The Womb – Poems on Mother , Father , Children , Parenthood – volume 1

  Indefatigably feeling higher than the sapphire ocean of clouds; although she transgressed in the fullest of her senses on bare bits of loose soil,

  Intransigently wishing for time to come to an abrupt standstill; with her astronomically ravishing beauty taking complete control of the mundane atmosphere,

  Awaiting with fervent anticipation for the immortally sacred marriage ceremony to unveil; bonding her forever with the mate of her every dream,

  She prayed tirelessly to the Creator; to bestow every day of her life like this one; when she majestically crowned herself and proudly proclaimed to all listening; that she

  was indeed the bride.

  11. WHEN I WAS A CHILD 

   

  When I was a child I thought of devouring immaculate chunks of white butter,

  Today I contemplated the price before purchasing monetary gifts for pleasure. 

  When I was a child I clambered up tall trees; to pluck nutritious fruit,

  Today I pondered on the various ramifications; which could possibly occur when the farmer caught me red handed. 

  When I was a child I played vociferously in mud; making inarticulate cakes of cow dung plaster,

  Today I refrained from going near wet land; on the flimsy grounds of having my trousers coated with obnoxious dirt. 

  When I was a child I got up early in the morning; relishing cool air while walking towards school,

  Today I woke up with startled jerks; with darkness fully camouflaged in the sun; to rush in a jiffy towards office. 

  When I was a child I played for incessant hours in the evening with my cluster of friends, Today I retired in front of the television screen; with a glass of cold beverage; at the onset of twilight. 

  When I was a child I demonstrated a plethora of emotions when profoundly agitated, Today I had risen to holistic degrees of self control; scrutinizing my mistakes before I cried. 

  When I was a child I took the supreme liberty of hiding amongst a fleet of guests arriving at our dwelling,

  Today I audaciously shook hands with the same; conversed for indefatigable hours with them on matters of common parlance. 

  When I was a child I voraciously read a battalion of thrilling mysteries,

  Today I completely engulfed myself in deciphering; intricate quotes of the stock market. 

  When I was a child I listened to my elders with rapt attention and intense enthusiasm,

  Today I chalked policies of my own; implementing them with loads of fortified conviction. 

  When I was a child; beads of sweat dribbled down my nape after witnessing a ghastly scene from the movie,

  Today I didn't budge an inch from my seat; after sighting the same; as I knew it was fictitious. 

  When I was a child I had no hesitation asking for money from my ancestors,

  Today I felt thoroughly abashed; asking them to gratify my distinctly penurious state. 

  When I was a child I chortled into pools of uninhibited laughter; at someone awkwardly dressed,

  Today I emitted out sly smiles; in order that the individual didn't feel humiliating and bad. 

  When I was a child I hardly had time to think about the vagaries of mystical world, Today I spent hours pondering on a jugglery of consequences that would unleash; if I wasn't careful. 

  When I was a child I thought the most onerous thing existing was to study,

  Today I felt that it was the process of earning; that was the most cumbersome of them all. 

  When I was a child; those were the times I was oblivious to reality; solely living in a world of tailor made fantasy,

  While today I had crossed the realms of maturity; acclimatized to the harsh reality; and desperately wished I was that unscrupulous child once again.

  12. THE FINAL THOUGHT 

   

  Only in a world of freedom can a child unfold and bloom,  

  For it is his birthright not to be gloomy.

  He cries and says let me go away, 

  For he shows corrupt masses of elderly his own natural 

  way.

  He takes a pledge to be always free, 

  He expresses this thought of his with lots of glee.

  He breaks an object with inanimate ease, 

  For to do new things he has a long lease.

  A smile spreads on naughty outlines of his face, 

  For he is living at the will of others grace.

  An anxious look creeps in his large innocent eyes, 

  For he is existing in a world of money sucking flies.

  At last he makes one final thought, 

  To reject the elders who gave him broth. 

   

   

  13. REFLECTIONS OF CHILDHOOD

  Those days were golden when I was a kid, 

  deprived of all responsibility, 

  divested of the urge to earn, run for fodder, 

  slept all night in cozy delights of my quilt, 

  to be woken up by the first rays of dawn, 

  shrill ringing bell of the portable clock, 

  brief shower with tap water, clad in cream uniform, 

  greeted by the welcome aroma of mud brown coffee, 

  ravishing crumbs of bread submerged in jam, 

  a quick glimpse at unfinished assignments, 

  vigorous coats of polish activating shoe shine, 

  meticulous combing of ruffled slept hair, 

  carefree manipulation of things to be purchased, 

  hasty packaging of school artillery in leather bag, 

  animated deliberation with my mother on study hours, 

  I now marched at fast pace towards the bus stop.

  The wind was chilly, Sunlight had a role of guest 

  appearance, 

  leafy tree foliage camouflaged the road, 

  droplets of salt water blew from the violent sea, 

  exuberant birds soared high in the clouds, 

  lazy yawns echoed through, long van interiors, 

  occasional clatter of ticket punch pads, 

  the glass paned bus finally switched routes, 

  heading towards suburban areas of walled city, 

  braked to a halt abreast my majestic school building, 

  the electric school bell was ringing, catholic prayers 

  had just begun, 

  as I galloped with my friends, to my compact class room, 

  now engulfed profoundly with full morning Sunlight.

  14. TALE OF TRADITION

  Forehead coated with red vermilion, 

  with spreading incense of intense loyalty, 

  long hair parted in equal coconut oil, 

  body smeared with sacred halves, 

  greased with century old ash, 

  bunch of flower braids entangled in braid, 

  diffusing into petals of love, 

  circular rings piercing nose and ear, 

  lighting up skin lobes with glittering gold, 

  long threads with sandalwood beads, 

  tied to beautifully crafted necks, 

  long fingers covered with red nail paint, 

  steel bangles dangling from wrists, 

  black mascara adorning shielding eyes, 

  sprawled tattoos depicting religion, 

  engraved on large lined palms, 

  lips portraying tinge of natural fleshy pink, 

  broad shoulder bones toughened with household chores, 

  with embroidered silk covering every inch of flesh, 

  preparing appetizing delicacies in enclosed kitchens, 

  a saga of unending sacrifice, 

  and an excellent chanter of the vedic rhyme, 

  an autobiography of self discipline, 

  giving birth to offspring's like me, 

  and a host of eminent personalities, 

  is the traditional Indian woman.

  15. A CHILD SMILES 

  Only in a world of freedom
,

  Can a child unfold and bloom.

  Only with the Sun piercing right through the dark hut,

  Can a child see the wonderful sights of this world.

  Only in an ocean of unprejudiced love,

  Can a child speak to its heart's content.

  Only through the eyes of soft empathy,

  Can a child see its true reflection.

  Only in surroundings of unadulterated society,

  Can a child open its mind wholesomely and dream.

  Only when applauded at its tiniest achievement,

  Can a child come to know its hidden potential.

  Only in lanes without propagation of caste,

  Can a child recognize its own identity.

  Only in the cradle of happiness,

  Can a child fantasize and create.

  Only in vicinity of the learned,

  Can a child imbibe the essentials of life.

  Only in the pages of medieval history,

  Can a child understand its ancestors better.

  Only in unpolluted waters of the Ganges,

  Can a child splash its hands and wholeheartedly swim.

  Only without discrimination of gender and status,

  Can a child flourish to achieve its goal.

  Only in the gentle hands of its mother,

  Can a child shield its eyes and sob.

  And Only in an atmosphere of complete equality,

  Can a child stimulate his urge for learning, prosper and smile.

  16. THERE WAS SIMPLY NO NEED 

  There was simply no need for a bicycle; an ostentatious car to maneuver me around,

  Till the time I possessed a pair of strong feet; which robustly bore my weight; carried me to all places I desired.

  There was simply no need for an angular binocular; an array of telescopic tubes circumventing my persona,

  Till the time I had intricate pairs of glistening eyes; which placed me in stupendous ecstasy after sighting the twinkling stars.

  There was simply no need for supersonic computer; a host of  modern contrivances aligning my table,

  Till the time I had fingers which could emboss beautiful calligraphy on bonded

  paper; a brain of my own to use.

  There was simply no need for a lifeboat to assist me choppy waters; a cavalcade of ships to ensure my safety,

  Till the time muscle bulged from under my shirt; rubicund blood circulated through my veins.

  There was simply no need for the mundane ceiling fan; suspended rigidly from the webbed ceiling,

  Till the time my body could attune itself to the outside heat; audaciously confront droplets of poignant sweat trickling down my forehead.

  There was simply no need for biscuits coated with lascivious honey; chicory

  baskets replete with ravishing chocolate,

  Till the time I could procure fresh fruits from nature; had an insatiable craving for fresh water in my bowels.

  There was simply no need orators preparing and delivering my speech; with me

  watching the scenario languishing beside the pool,

  Till the time I had incarcerated in my mouth a fleshy tongue; which could swirl rampantly and eloquently speak.

  There was simply no need for a mattress of swanky satin; strewn alongwith a

  fleet of immaculate white pearls,

  Till the time my bones were as solid as a rock; my skull was acclimatized to sleep on the plain stone floor.

  There was simply no need for the bombastic shower; nimbly diffusing few droplets of water at a time,

  Till the time there existed the country river; compounded with the exuberance in my soul to bathe in it.

  And there was simply no need for me to worry; take a plethora of insurmountable tensions on my head,

  Till the time there existed; my celestial mother; my loving beloved; and my

  sacrosanct God.

 

  17. WHAT I DO KNOW 

   

  How deep is the ocean I do not know; but what I do know is that I would extricate the oil trapped within; to make it more enjoyable for people to swim,

  How colossal is the sky I do not know; but what I do know is that I would stop it being invaded by obnoxious missiles; making it a paradise for birds to fly,

  How dense is the forest I do not know; but what I do know is that I would prevent innocent trees from being chopped; making it more mesmerizing for the animals to live in,

  How lanky is the mountain I do not know; but what I do know is that I would

  terminate all mining activity on its slopes; making it more stupendous for sheep to philander on,

  How vast is the desert I do not know; but what I do know is that I would placate the thirst of every organism I encountered; to grant it reprieve from the agony of scorching heat,

  How acrimonious is the heat of fire I do not know; but what I do know is that I would alleviate the same by pouring pails of chilled water; thereby impeding the surrounding environment from being torched,

  How lethal is the sting of scorpion I do not know; but what I do know is that I would suck it from innocuous flesh; saving it wholesomely from jaws of savage death,

  How resplendent are the colors of rainbow I do not know; but what I do know is

  that I would stop abhorrent gases from obscuring their ingratiating view

  How dark is a blind mans life I do not know; but what I do know is I would offer him my shoulder to lean upon; comforting him in times of bizarre distress,

  How eloquent is the nightingale I do not know; but what I do know is that I would prevent obstreperous noises from circulating; making its voice the solo one in the still atmosphere,

  How thick is blood I do not know; but what I do know is that I would curtail

  it from flowing profusely; tying across it the bandage of my unadulterated love,

  How disastrous is the earthquake I do not know; but what I do know is that I

  would mitigate the suffering prevailing; by hoisting all infants lying discarded without their mothers,

  How piquant is white salt I do not know; but what I do know is that I would procure it in its purest form from the sea; to distribute among who cherish its taste,

  How scintillating is the pearl I do not know; but what I do know is that I would prevent it from being mutilated and marketed commercially all around,

  How black is darkness I do not know; but what I do know is that I would not

  let it linger for more than the night; snapping it completely with the first rays of transient dawn,

  How frosty is milk I do not know; but what I do know is that I would sequester

  mother cow from abuse and trips to the abattoir,

  How redolent is the rose I do not know; but what I do know is that I would

  prevent it from being plucked indiscriminately from the blossoming shrub,

  How diabolical is the demon I do not know; but what I do know is that I would

  prevent him from disrupting the tranquility and benevolence of society,

  How omniscient is the creator I do not know; but what I do know is that I would burn all fingers pointing against him; annihilate even the most minuscule trace of blasphemy enveloping his sacrosanct persona,

  And how long am I going to live I do not know; but what I do know is that would entirely dedicate every unveiling minute of my life; to my mother; my beloved and the od who endowed upon me the prowess to live and love

  18. IT WAS PERFECTLY NORMAL 

   

  It was perfectly normal to burst into pools of uninhibited laughter; after witnessing a garishly painted clown,

  It was perfectly normal to hysterically sob ; at the death of someone you vehemently revered,

  It was perfectly normal to trip head-on on your nose; after walking through a

  puddle of slushy grease,

  It was perfectly normal to tenaciously scratch your scalp; when snow white beads of dandruff camouflaged them in entirety,

&n
bsp; It was perfectly normal to purse your lips profusely; after swallowing a sumptuously appetizing meal,

  It was perfectly normal to thunderously sneeze; when disdainful granules of incongruous dust entered your nose,

  It was perfectly normal to shiver; when you stood bare chested in freezing currents of bizarre winter,

  It was perfectly normal to collapse in a bedraggled heap; when you carried a mountain of mud on your slender shoulder,

  It was perfectly normal to blush like a scarlet complexioned rose; when you were caught red-handed trying to blatantly flirt with a girl,

  It was perfectly normal to pound your fists in raw indignation; when you were

  encompassed from all sides with unfathomable frustration,

  It was perfectly normal to perspire; when you worked arduously under sizzling rays of the sun,