Thursday, November 24, 2011

I...I...His


I am-
His daughter,
His sister,
His friend,
His girl,
His wife,
His mother,
I am his.

I am-
His ambition,
His virtue,
His inspiration,
His passion,
His desire,
His love,
I am his.

I am-
His angst,
His shame,
His insanity,
His foul,
His torment,
His sorrow,
I am his.

I am his,
But never me,
Never free,
Or a floating spirit.
I am clouded with,
Whatever his is,
But never me,
So, I am his.

I am his,
I was his,
I will be his.
I don’t want to be his.
I don’t like to be his.

I want to be mine,
Mine in time,
Mine in place,
Mine in soul,
Mine in me.

I want to be me.
I want to be myself.
I want to be mine.
I want to be I.

Monday, November 7, 2011

Waning Sun


It is almost to sun set,

Where the stars and moon would have met.

I see her eyes stretching across,

Over the horizon measuring the loss.


Un-disturbed sight tells tale,

Of misery, wisdom, strength and frail.

Tender hands have wrinkled in winter,

Sorrow and pain has been its marker.


Deep cracks on her face,

Life, now has no grace.

Alone, lone in the dark,

An idle waiting has made its remark.


Long sighs of her breaths

Are the reasons of her deep regrets.

The greyness of her hair

Leaves no experiences bare.


The furrow on the brow

And head hanging so low.

While she makes her way back

I follow her limping track.


Not assuming what I can fetch

Of her grieves and suffers I make a sketch.

Not a word, she utters,

In her own deep thoughts, she slumbers.


Dark curtains envelopes her,

The vista soon becomes blur.

I see her walking away,

Her image will always stay.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

B-R-E-A-K U-P


“I love you”’ say I

“It’s claustrophobic”’ says he

“Let me help you”, say I

“I’m choking”’ says he

“Let me do something, baby”, say I

“I am dying”, says he

“Baby, listen to me...” say I

He interrupts, “Move over! Let me breathe”


I – fallen. Hurt. He accuses.

I cry. He walks away.


He won’t care. I won’t listen.

Both - separate.

Monday, August 29, 2011

Sacking of Heart


It is difficult to convince my heart,

That it was you who tore it apart.

Wish we could have a new start.

Breaking-up is your new art.


You got rid of all my fears

And you left me with tears.

It just feels like years-

Just to be all yours.


Why are you leaving?

I have sinking feeling,

I don’t know my state of being.

Why is everything parting?


I had just to love you,

My demands were very few.

Now you ask for me a new,

Why do I feel so blue?


For years you loved me,

Now you are setting me free.

You dint ask where did I want to be,

Just too bad, weren’t we?


I wont be the same anymore.

It will be unlike before.

Now, I have shut the door,

As my heart is all sore.


But still, for you I will wait.

It is not you that I hate.

It is the play of the fate,

I am its favourite bait.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

The Loss of My Little Elf-man


Where did you go my little Elf-man?

Come back here as fast as you can.

I look here, I look there

No one here for me to care.


You slept next to me,

When we spoke last night.

Where could you be,

Now in this bright light?


Did that big teddy hit you?

Has the monster truck screw you?

I look out and stars are too few

Wish I could be there with you.


Come back, come back little Elf-man.

I sleep not, no stories to hear.

No Goldilocks and no Peter Pan

Without them I have lot to fear.


Shall I tell you how dear you are?

I don’t know how did you get so far?

I miss telling you about my day.

I do realise you are far away


Wish he was here now.

Looking out, waiting at the window.

Come back again little Elf-man.

Misses you a lot, your tearful Dan.

Saturday, August 20, 2011

Building A Devil


The idle moment agonizes me,

Spending time is harder than money.

Ticking fingers on the table and

Looking at the clock on the wall

Been only a minute to pass by.


What is next? What is next?

A blade in my hand and

Blood on the floor.

Whose can it be?

No. Not mine.

I will walk over,

No one shall ever know.


I go. I went. Mind seeks home.

Down the hall, up the stairs.

I looked in the mirror.

Stain of blood and stench of evil,

But there was no misery in the eyes.

Were they mine?


Blood-stained design

All over the wall.

I laughed out loud,

I fell on the floor.

Watching the ceiling,

I was raised up to my feet.


Stripping off the remains,

Shame, guilt and fear had unwrapped before.

Under the shower, in cold

A tingling feeling held me close

I let off my sanity go.

I could meet eyes with my Maker.

He shall fear my courage now.


I walk in the room and

Hold that blade. A look at the clock.

It was the time again.

Anger resided and revenge sought me.

A merciless play I enjoyed.

Bloody floor beneath me.


Guilt-free smile on my face.

Licking the blood off the blade,

An unnatural high I receive.

Moving to the home of my deceivers.

Becoming the Devil what you wanted

I, now, stand here over your body.

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Birthday Wish


Happy birthday to you
and you enter a year new.
let the sorrows be so few
and let the joy be too.
allow me to tell that
i have never been so glad.
to have my life sweetened
with you as my lovely friend.
i dont know how would it be
if i would not have met thee.
what could i ask more
have been given so much before.
my love, you are special to me
your birthday brings joy and merry.
Happy birthday to you, baby
you are the best creation of almighty

Thursday, August 4, 2011

SPOCA-MMAR


Since standard first onwards we are exposed to grammar. We are primarily introduced to nouns, pronouns, adjectives, verbs. Then, we keep on learning them in depth and add more to it a year by year. The active life in studies turns passive by solving more and more sentences each year. Teachers directly and indirectly help us to improve. Yet, there is no transformation in the language; we are interrogated in exams and our teachers exclaims while evaluating. The positive marks turns negative and we on the other hand are still amazed, “How so?”

Four years after school, I took up Literature as my majoring subject. Once again I was being exposed to grammar, as a separate paper. Knowing this, “Oh no!” was my first reaction. I realised that Mrs. Usha Subramanian is going to take our grammar lectures. I also knew that she was meticulous, stern with her attendance, sarcastic when she feels if we are not working hard and very difficult to please. So, it was very important for me to remain in her good books all throughout (I still don’t know if I achieved that.)

Barely did I know that grammar rules over the years had changed. What was an adjective for us was now an enumerator, what was an article was also used as a determiner and an endless list of pronouns did confuse my poor brain. So, it did take me a couple of months to figure out what it all meant. I contemplated if I was a right candidate for literature majors.

My first session of TYBA grammar was a rendez-vous with the memories of my language class in school. I clearly remember my grammar teacher, Mrs. Bharti Phanse who made us write “did+ present tense” hundred times if we made an error while speaking like, “I did spoke to him.” It sounds absurd now, that time it didn’t. She tried her best and punished us severely for every single mistake. That only helped us through the exam, not practically. We were some bunch of hooligans to be taught. So, those punishments made no severe impact on our speech.

Now, thanks to Mrs. Subramanian who helped us learning grammar and solving every doubt. Her methods helped in grooming my sentence formations. Eventually, words, phrases and clauses became crucial. Knowing how scoring the paper is, I started to strive hard and attain maximum marks. Each day would not pass by without me practising or at least revising.

It's not that I'm so smart, it's just that I stay with problems longer. ~Albert Einstein

I didn’t know if this holds true and I don’t claim that I m smart either. But this is what I did. I just stayed with my sentences for a longer a duration. During my exams, I solved each question paper over three times. That gave me enough of confidence to attempt my exams fearlessly.

Grammar was one thing I had become dedicated to, by the end of the year. Not only because it was scoring, but also it gave me a different kind of high. With every complicated sentence that I solved, I attained euphoria. I don’t think five years back I would have ever dreamt of solving or learning grammar all over again. Now that I teach same grammar that I learnt in school to my students, I realised where I went wrong.

I realised how Wren and Martin is “treasurable” book and Geoffrey Leech, Margaret Deuchar and Robert Hoogenhard’s grammar books’ SPOCA (subject, predicate, object, complement and adverbial) structure is an unforgettable experience. I shall never forget in my life the verb "be" is always followed by a complement.

He conquers who endures. ~Persius

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Examination Hall


A silent classroom,

The monotonous whirring of the fan,

A perfect recipe

To lull one to sleep.

But

I must not sleep.

This is a supervision duty

To supervise those who

Don't need supervision

And so

I keep myself awake

Pacing up and down

While the students look up

And wonder--

Whatever happened to the teacher?

And-

When did this zombie

Suddenly appear?!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------​------------

They stare into space,

Trying to remember

That one word

That one line

So crucial to the answer.

Jay writes on and on

While Jinal takes a rest

Before she buckles down again.

Rachita and Gandhar

Seek inspiration and divine intervention!

The light of knowledge

Shines upon them

And the writing starts

All over again.

Ankita has a little bite from her snack box

All this----

For inspiration- you see.

Bushra and Disha

Wish they had more comfortable chairs

They could have a snooze

But

A long languid stretch will have to do.

Palak, Madhuri and Anushri

Are as focused as one can be

With eyes rolling in tandem.

Trisha smiles into her paper

Telling the world

This is a piece of cake.

While Nirali

Embodies the spirit of the class

Writing and

Dare I say it-

Looking at me for inspiration.

A motley group of people,

They and me,

Caught in a trap

Called

Examinations!!



[ A poem written by my teacher Mrs. Anita Phillips while she supervised during our exam. thank you ma'am for everything]

Sunday, July 17, 2011

A puff of high lows


Seven bucks a smoke and a light,
I close my eyes in the night.
Feeling so calm and numb,
Lost my senses and fell in trance.
Childhood memories flash
Like a thunder striking clouds.
Falling heavily on the bed, I recall,
Of sweet- innocence, love, sanctity.
I open my eyes to feel it all
Hands in the air, all is gone.

Seven bucks a smoke and a light,
I shut my eyes even more tight.
A puff taken deep and heavy,
I now recall of sweet love,
Which was all above.
I reckon the tender body touch
And sweet voice I loved so much.
I open my eyes to feel it all
Hands in the air, all is gone.

Seven bucks a smoke and a light,
My eyes lose all vision and sight.
I saw you leaving my door,
Wish I had courage to stop you go.
Now, you make me feel so low
You pain me to the heart’s core.
I open my eyes to feel it all
Hands in the air, all is gone.

Seven bucks a smoke and a light,
I see the slit on my wrist.
I felt a lingering pain
Lost my senses, felt in vain.
In dark silence, watch the blood flow.
I felt your wet kisses on my lips
I open my eyes to feel it all
Hands in the air, all is gone.

Seven bucks a smoke and a light,
I was in the hospital bed
I felt I was all dead.
I felt so heavenly in a paradise.
I walked through the angels so bright.
They sung me songs so nice,
Of peace, love and joy.
I open my eyes to feel it all
Hands in the air, all is gone.

Seven bucks a smoke and a light,
I lean against the wall.
Glancing the glowing moon so white,
I wish I had prevented my fall.
Like the cactus needle on my skin,
I shut my eyes to feel it all
Hands in the air, all is gone.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Quote-a-nia~

Boredom breeds obesity.

Love demands nothing, a relationship does.

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Top 10 Grammar Myths


10. A run-on sentence is a really long sentence. Wrong! They can be quite short. In a run-on sentence, independent clauses are squished together without the help of punctuation or a conjunction. If you write “I am short he is tall,” as one sentence without any punctuations between the two independent clauses, it's a run-on sentence even though it only has six words.

9. You shouldn't start a sentence with the word “however.” Wrong! It's fine to start a sentence with “however” so long as you use a comma after it.

8. “Irregardless” is not a word. Wrong! “Irregardless” is a bad word and a word you shouldn't use, but it is a word. “Floogetyflop” isn't a word. “Irregardless,” on the other hand, is in almost every dictionary labeled as nonstandard. You shouldn't use it if you want to be taken seriously, but it has gained wide enough use to qualify as a word.

7. There is only one way to write the possessive form of a word that ends in “s.” Wrong! It's a matter of choice. For example, in the phrase “Kansas's statute,” you can put just an apostrophe at the end of “Kansas” or you can put an apostrophe “s” at the end of “Kansas.” Both ways are acceptable

6. Passive voice is always wrong. Wrong! Passive voice is when the doer is not a subject. Receiver or the object becomes the subject. For example, "Mistakes were made by him.” when you use passive voice, you are emphasizing on the object of the action. Passive voice can be the best choice, if you don't know who is responsible for an action.

5. “I.e.” and “e.g.” mean the same thing. Wrong! “E.g.” means "for example," and “i.e.” means roughly "in other words." You use “e.g.” to provide a list of incomplete examples, and you use “i.e.” to provide a complete clarifying list or statement.

4. You use “a” before words that start with consonants and “an” before words that start with vowels. Wrong! You use “a” before words that start with consonant sounds and “an” before words that start with vowel sounds. So, you'd write that someone has an MBA instead of a MBA, because even though “MBA” starts with “m,” which is a consonant, it starts with the sound of the vowel “e”--MBA.

3. It's incorrect to answer the question "How are you?" with the statement "I'm good." Wrong! “Am” is a linking verb and linking verbs should be modified by adjectives such as “good.” Because “well” can also act as an adjective, it's also fine to answer "I'm well," but some grammarians believe "I'm well" should be used to talk about your health and not your general disposition.

2. You shouldn't split infinitives. Wrong! Nearly all grammarians want to boldly tell you it's OK to split infinitives. An infinitive is a two-word form of a verb. An example is "to tell." In a split infinitive, another word separates the two parts of the verb. "To boldly tell" is a split infinitive because “boldly” separates “to” from “tell.”

1. You shouldn't end a sentence with a preposition. Wrong! You shouldn't end a sentence with a preposition when the sentence would mean the same thing if you left off the preposition. That means "Where are you at?" is wrong because "Where are you?" means the same thing. But there are many sentences where the final preposition is part of a phrasal verb or is necessary to keep from making stuffy, stilted sentences: “I'm going to throw up,” “Let's kiss and make up,” and “What are you waiting for” are just a few examples.

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Fond Memories


Walking tip-toed on the road,

And a happy jump over a pebble.

Pleasures dwell in small candies,

Warmth and comfort in teddies.


Paper boats sailing in the bucket,

Cute houses of mud and clay.

Tea parties with dolls and bunnies,

And sweet baby cradled to bed.


Fashionable stories from grand mother,

Weaves angels and fairies from above.

Imagination and creation

Breeds a whole new world.


Lying on the grass and counting sheeps.

Hide-and-seek, the favourite game.

Running naked didn’t matter.

Breaking every new toy is a triumph.


Few scribbles with some colours

Is the master piece for his mother.

When her twinkling eyes meets his

Exceptional joy is deeply rooted.


Her soft soothing voice

Sings of lovely lullabies.

No heavenly voice is her match,

That allows you to sleep so peacefully.


Peeping eyes looking over the bed

Crawling and gazing the night sky

Where the stars far away

Knit the blessed dreams in those eyes.


We do not remember days,

We remember moments.

In the deepest treasures of heart

We unlock our fond memories.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Ardent Indulgence


A face that seems so better than a moon;
reddens like the sun at the set.
Her beauty seeks no comparison
when she slips out of her gown.

The crisp biscuit dips
into the hot coffee.
Down falls the jar when
he holds her tight close to her.

When he meets her body,
all the sensations become stronger.
His sliding tongue seeks solace
on her budding lips.

Her luscious lips feed
his starving lust.
Seeking more pleasure,
he ravishes her nude body.

He unveils his gloried weapon
to possess her.
On that soft bed she was laid,
his lusty eyes had no mercy.

She knew not
what came for her.
Then he laid on her
with all his spirits unleashed.

Her groaning voices,
her wet body, her fast breath,
and her firm fists
accompanied his glory of passion.

He accomplished theact
with a victorious smile.
Soft tears of pleasure
ran down her cheeks,
the biscuit all soaked in the coffee
and the broken jar laid on the floor.

My Mind, My Garden


To me my mind is a garden

like a spirit I hover around.

Time here has no bound

Memories live here eternally,

The good, the bad, the ugly.


The garden of spring brings joy.

The happy revelation of the past

Soothes the yielding heart,

Where the soft touch of the

Love warms the body, now.

The tender flowers bloom all around,

Nourishes the sight and

Lightens the affectionate heart.

The saccharine matured fruits

Augments the taste of recollections.


The summer love matures, where

The beloved nestles in the arms.

Trust, love, faith grows.

joyful days outshine the victorious sun.

Nothing compared to the loving memory matters.

Love and lustful memory

Becomes a thing of the past.


Happy days seek refuge in the clouds,

When autumn weather

Shadows the sun.

Light vanishes, love disappears and life descends

The windy garden sheds the leaf

Of every fond memory.

The prison of grief is painted

In the red sky when love leaves.


Winter days become dark and gloomy

The frosty nights freezes the cold memories.

Lonesome journey to the Death’s Kingdom

Turns every rose to a thorn

Snowy, cold carpet cover

Every green pasture of spring.

Tearful memory cradles the spirit of death.


Now my garden waits,

The seeds sown so deep will sprout

And the spring shall be restored

With the sweet memories

My garden shall endeavour.

Monday, May 23, 2011

Bringing home a Girl

A man's face is his autobiography. A woman's face is her work of fiction. ~Oscar Wilde

Why should we always draw lines between the pinks and the blues? Why do they clearly label genders? Why boys don’t cry and girls don’t play with cars ever? Why are we raised so differently? How would it make a distinction to make a boy play with a doll and allow the girl to go to a military school? Does that make a boy any lesser and a girl masculine to coerce anyone? These disparities in sexual roles have raised several issues over years.

Since the time of Adam and Eve, women have always been condemned to be an evil shadow. Since, she brought the ‘Fall of Man’ she is considered to be the perpetrator of degradation to mankind. She is punished ruthlessly, beaten up irrationally, hunted down like a witch, stoned to death, raped brutally and killed hard-heartedly as an infant. It is presupposed in many Eastern societies how women can bring humiliation to a family. Women are considered to be an honour, yet objectifying her, parents get the girl-child married in order to get rid of her. By the convention of Dowry, one categorically objectifies the women. Kept in the captivation and dooming her of the knowledge of which she is righteous, portrays a cowardly world of mankind. With the use of force (i.e. rape, conditioning) women are shut in the darkness of fear.

“One is not born a woman, one becomes one.” ~Simone de Beauvoir

Women, however, had become puppets and pretty dolls in the hands of men. Force, rebel and struggle have now become the new voices of women. The self-sacrifice, quiet, docile women have now found ways to brush their way through the hurdles. We no longer see a Cinderella whining in her apron, a Rapunzel seeking a refuge in her prince, a Bella to be escorted by a vampire or a wolf. We don’t even need a Joan to sacrifice her life, a Sita to prove her loyalty or a Draupadi as a pawn in the hands of her husbands.

Women, now, have openly flaunted their power, knowledge, and skill, receiving public recognition and honour. There are females who manage to brandish power in societies that try to bound it or ruling female submission; where their leadership is stigmatized and their creativity scorned and women who resist and overthrow oppressive traditions and regimes, who break the rules in defiance of unjust legal and religious "authorities" and who pursue their vision in spite of their personal cost.

Women have determined the course of events and the forms of human culture. They have originated, founded, governed, prophesied, created great art, fought for the rights, and for the peoples. These are the women edited out of history, their stories omitted, distorted, and replaced with an endless litany of men (and the occasional queen or meddling concubine). The ignorance of these women is greatly compounded by the omission of information on societies which accorded females power in public life, diplomacy, religion, medicine, the arts as well as family structure and inheritance. Both racism and sexism are implicated in these silences and gaps.

“A woman's hopes are woven of sunbeams; a shadow annihilates them.”
~George Eliot.

There are many women who have changed the face of the world. By bringing minimal difference, they bring about huge changes. Benazir Bhutto (Former Prime Minister of Pakistan) said

“…I can deal with political differences, but how do you deal with it when someone says I don't like you because you're a woman and you've taken a man's place."

It was not easy for women to achieve these milestones as easily as men did. However, Margaret Thatcher (Former Prime Minister of Great Britain) did not believe that quota systems were the answer to get more women in politics - she thought this might affect the quality of women at the top. She said,

"I don't want to get to a position when we have women because they're women, we want to have women because they are able and as well equipped as men and sometimes better."


Many strong figures in the history have marked women’s position on high plinth like, Queen Elizabeth I, Queen Victoria, Cleopatra are to name a few. That does not stop women. They have made progress in every field possible. There are prize winning poets, authors, laureates, scientists, singers, dancers, painters. Women have now touched the corporate world and broke the glass ceiling. There have been several women entrepreneurs. Today there are 9.1 million women-owned businesses in the U.S., representing nearly 40% of all businesses. Women account for $7 trillion in consumer and business spending. Women make 80 percent of healthcare decisions and 68 percent of new car purchase decisions. Women are starting new firms at twice the rate of all other businesses. Through time, gradually, over a period of time women have liberated themselves from the shell. Women in power have proved themselves through their action.

By identifying Eve as a temptress, she was seen as playing the same role as the evil serpent that had tempted her, thus linking the two. In art, the link between women and evil is made visually apparent by showing the serpent as a woman with snake-like lower parts. The image of the monstrous serpent-woman cleverly identifies both the source of evil and its nature. Myth plays very vital role in portraying women’s sexuality and has shown women to be obscure and sinful.

Women’s sexuality is reaching its peak in today’s world in terms of the ability to freely practice and talk about it. This, however, was not always the case. In Victorian times, women were not allowed to enjoy sexual satisfaction and were often considered to be responsible for the moral decline of society if they did. Sexuality has evolved into what it is today through the writings of many activists, a change in view of what is considered morally right, and more emphasis being placed on the sexual act as something that is natural and acceptable in women’s lives.

The 1960’s counterculture and predominant ideas of leading lives filled with ‘sex, drugs and rock and roll,’ also signified advancement for women’s sexuality. The 1960’s are often times referred to as the decade of the ‘sexual revolution,’ free love and sexual gratification being at the top of the agenda. Women’s sexuality was no longer confined within the boundaries of conjugal interactions. According to Female Sexuality by Precilla Y.L. Choi and Paula Nicolson, in the years since the 1960’s the sexual ‘double standard’ has been lifted. Sexual pleasure is not just something to be enjoyed by men; it is for women as well. It has become more socially acceptable for women to enjoy the pleasure of sex and reach orgasm.

Although illegal today, prostitution can be viewed as a woman’s right to control her sexuality. Many female prostitutes use the ‘it’s my body I can do what I want with it,’ argument to support their chosen profession. It is unclear if prostitution is more prevalent in today’s society than in Victorian times, but it can be said that today it is more often a choice that the woman consciously makes, as opposed to being forced into it. Women have also used her body to her advantage, in terms of modelling and advertising.

Talking about sexual preferences, women have been open about their choices in partners. Many women have engaged themselves into a homosexual relation. Women have also found themselves a pleasure in having multiple relations rather than one. They no longer stick to committed relations and have learned to ‘move on’. This has brought a change in appearance of women’s traditional role.

Based on five years of research and an online survey of 1,000 women, the authors of Why Women Have Sex, Cindy Meston and David Bus, psychologists from the University of Texas consider motivation ranging from altruistic sex ("I felt sorry for the guy") to revengeful sex ("I wanted to get back at my partner") to palliative sex ("I had a migraine"). It is heard from women who've had sex to boost their confidence, even if it's with a man (or woman) they find repulsive, and from those who've used sex to barter for gifts or household chores (9 percent of women have used this form of economic sex, according to a University of Michigan study)

Along with work side, many career oriented women have settled life. They manage their home and work efficiently. 60% of US women work outside the home, earning $1 trillion each year in aggregate. Of working married women, 48% provide half or more of the household income. 31 percent of the marriages where women work, women now out-earn their husbands. They are the primary bread winner.

In spite of all this hardship, struggle, battles, fight for equality women have come up as a influential entity. She pulls off all her roles justly without neglecting any. Yet, her difficulties never fail her. She still stands up as beautiful as any flower. She carries herself in the latest fashion, her hair will always be right, her make-up still at its best, her accessories never left out, her shoes so perfect and it is true that no man can ever be in her shoe. She can never be a different species but a higher of them. The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears the figure she carries or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman must be seen from her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides. The true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows, the beauty of a woman with passing years-only grows.

“However, I'm not denyin' the women are foolish: God Almighty made 'em to match the men.” ~George Eliot