The Lightning Beauty That You Are


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Fate of A Desolate Love


He was elated when he realized that their hearts had a special connection. He was so happy that his heart was part of a resonance pair. A string will swing at its maximum when the two ends are held at a particular distance. And he was petrified out of terror, the terror of fate, when he found out that the distance that makes their connection the strongest was so large that it might break the connection altogether. What choice did he have but to walk away to that far place, because he felt that one moment of the strongest connection between them was worth everything than a lifelong bond that knows not its true extent or purpose. It is so easy to call him a fool, which he really is.

Time and What We Know As Life


Sometimes you encounter forces so great and abusive, far beyond what is human and explainable, that you are confused whether you have to accept your imminent defeat or if you have to put all doubts about the reality of comparative strengths, and fight against the perceived injustice, which, for all we know, seems to drag on till the end, the end of either hope, or of breath. Without you knowing, you become a coward by persisting to be brave. Without you realizing, the principles you lived-by form a death trap you are destined to step on. Without you feeling, you become empty of the very emotions that once defined everything for you. Just when you realize you are too tired and cannot fight, the force pushes you down an abyss that you believed cannot go any deeper than where you already are. You are overridden with rage, that even in the moments that you believe are your last ones, the force still expects you to put up a fight. The rage helps you recover some sanity, and strength, and fight a little longer before everything circles back to your waning hope and tiring soul. It is as if the force throws you down a very deep abyss and the only way out is that you, a human, must grow wings to get out of the darkness and gloom. All the poems you wrote about flying don’t really mean anything, unless of course you find someone who makes you believe that you are not actually falling, but flying. Well, that again brings everything to the great and abusive force that snatches your only light, and the whole things repeats till the end, the end of either hope, or breath.

‘Cooking Me’ For Dummies


Weekly Writing Challenge: A Pinch of You

This week, we want a window into the complexity that is you. We want the recipe for all the bits and pieces and quirks and foibles and loves that make you you.

This is going to be long, brace yourself.


Although my recipethe medoes has flesh as one of its large number of ingredients, it is vegetarian. So, you can expect to find a  , somewhere on my body, although I’d highly recommend that you don’t go searching for it. I simply can’t seem to make a list of all the ingredients that make the recipe. Even the thought of making such an effort is sucking away all the vitamins from me.

*Suddenly, a magnet enters the creation room*
Oh! No! Stop! Stop! Noooo!!! Not my iron, nooooo!
*Magnet escapes with the loot*
Why me! Why is the world so cruel and unfair!

Low on iron, the recipe was going to end up being tall and skinny, being able to both reach for the high apple in the garden of Eden and being blown away by a quiet breeze right before I pluck it. Darn! Someone added fate without my knowledge and I hardly know what effect it will have on the final recipe. Who was it? Is he the one who sent the magnet? Why? 

Later, by a happy accident, philosophy slipped into the cauldron in which raw good and evil were getting cooked at such high temperatures, the solution looked redder than what lava would look like if it was blushing. Although at first it did seem like a happy accident, I soon realized that it would have been better if it happened, maybe, 10 years later. The cauldron has been on flame for only 17 years, that poor thing exploded after philosophy got mixed into it, it was like a burden from then on. I looked at the world with disbelief, the stark diversity of a man’s actions, swinging from extreme evil to extreme godliness.

I needed to heal my wounds after that explosion, which kind of caused people to discriminate me, like an untouchable, although not in the complete literal sense. To be precise, the explosion made me an introvert. I added analytical and factual reasoning to my reality, the science of deduction, as Sherlock Holmes would call it. I saw people make choices, I saw what led to their choices, what the choices made them.  It all made sense. I saw people abuse power, I saw humble people crumble to dust. I saw a writing on the wall. But I am only 20, it all weighed too much upon me. I needed to vent these fumes of restlessness, rage and realization. I needed another world.

And I then added love, faith, hope and trust. This helped the ticking bomb in me stay dormant. Nature was always a part of the recipe, what fellow humans couldn’t contribute to my recipe, nature did and with love. Although, sometimes, her fury would scare the crap out of every living thing. But hey, she is not angry for no reason, she has us humans to deal with. Just beside this cauldron was a kettle in which a mixture of experiences was being boiled. The kettle started rattling fervently. Gosh! What is wrong now. Maybe I have to get some experiences off my heart. So I took out a cup of the contents from the kettle and poured it into a mold called writing. It conjured interesting shapes and patterns, and that gave a little peace to my mind in midst of such a buzzing ambiance.

Writing gave my recipe a new dimension, and only then did I realize how much I needed it. Even before my recipe(the me) was complete, which is going to take 40-60 years depending on the course of action humans take to counter the growing insensitivity in humans and the global warming triggered by them, I was able to visit new worlds through imagination and other manifestations of the burning need to express. So, I soon kind of learned the craft of multitasking. I faded in and out of all these worlds, all the same trying to continue completing my recipe in this world. But sometimes I am lost in thought, wondering if I have to regret not taking the orthodox path to cooking. The general approach of the youth in this world, that seems to have so much energy and fun in it. But the reasons why I chose the path I am currently on quickly surface back to the fore and I continue stirring. But my recipe would be incomplete, no matter how much mastery I learn, if all coal became ashes, if all the water is evaporated and if all the fire was dead. What am I saying? That I need help. Love. Trust. Faith. Freedom. They make up the air I breathe and in their absence, I move to my end quickly.


If you made it this far, visitor, then I bow to you and thank you.

The Warmth Within (#Haiku #Photography)


We all find ourselves at the mercy of a chilly night or an empty street at one time or another during our lives with no companion to warm our shoulders that dropped at the prospect of having to face terrible hardships alone. None, not even the ones that we believed loved us the most, cared for us the most. We often look everywhere for our missing pen while we were holding it all along in our very own hands. At every phase of our life we have someone by our side who strengthens us. But there are also these periods when we are alone and left to fight on our own. But we know we can’t make it out alive unless we get help. And that is when you seek the help of your companion you have been overlooking. It is youIt is the hope within you.

go no far places

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I wrote this haiku a long time back. While I was struggling with the block, I started mashing up photography and poetry to help myself out of the sluggish writer’s block. It kind of worked. To write words and tie them together seemed a mighty task. But slowly, with the help of photographs and some Photoshop skills, I started to get back on track to writing and blogging again. So now that the story behind posting this, drop your comments and share your thoughts about the haiku. Link back to your posts, I’d gladly read them. I can’t write good stuff if I don’t read good stuff!

 

Fly My Soul Like A Kite


of all symphonies reverberating in the yonder,
one magically hooked my soul and made me fly.

and as I soared,
a myriad of worlds unknown, flashed before my eyes,
each one looking so much like home,
I felt like seeking asylum in every such world,
regardless of what it had to offer,
sorrow or serendipity.

of all symphonies reverberating in the yonder,
one magically hooked my soul and made me fly.
my consciousness. my conscience.

~ ~ ~

lliterary works small

April Haiku Month, Day 26: Waterfalls


#2

waterfall beckons . . .

people are convinced it would cleanse them

even if they raped

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Many of the believers in god blindly believe in things like these, that ‘are said to’cleanse their souls and wipe off all the sins they committed. Many ARE CONVINCED that they become good by taking a holy dip or doing a holy prayer or something. Let me tell you, these people are blind. Blinded by faith in the unknown and unseen, and blinded by lust for the material and mundane. These are the people who have no guilty conscience, or just a little may be. These people go to temples and offer huge amounts of money and gold and BELIEVE that their future is secure and that they have bribed their god enough to let them off any crimes and sins they committed. And god isn’t helping either, because they really seem to be getting away from what they deserve for everything they did. India is the biggest hypocrite on the world map. The world would be half a better place than it is now if these people started believing in undoing their wrongs, not ‘devote’ themselves t0 ‘god’ in reparation.

 

April Haiku Month, Day 10: Incense


VAIN ENERGY


I have never really ventured into writing romance before. I did, but only as parts of a larger poem with a different theme. And now I try. Although I have to say, when I write, romance will never stand alone. It will have a touch(or more) of heartbreak, and more importantly, hope. Hope of impossible magnitude. 


an incensed candle . . .

her eyes rested upon mine

melodies we sang

~ ~ ~

melodies we sang . . .

as the sepia light dimmed

our own hearts grew warm

~ ~ ~

the wick is all spent . . .

so is my vain energy,

reliving memories

~ ~ ~

This post is submitted at Haiku Heights for Day 10 prompt – Incense. This post is also a part of my NaPoWriMo 2013 journey, my first. I am also trying to take up the A-to-Z Blogging challenge which requires bloggers to write a post everyday during all April. I will try to write separate posts for NaPoWriMo and A-to-Z Blogging Challenge IF possible. I sure want to.

I am going to share your everyday Haiku on my Facebook Page. Keep tabs on it too.

Thank you all for reading my haiku. I’ll be reading yours too, and I enjoy each one of your haiku. Your comments always help me improve and motivate myself to keep going.

Thank you and keep writing! 

Tweet me at @WeOweWomen.

April Haiku Month, Day 3: Candle


birthday candles

a baby is born . . .

her gentle breath sweeps candles

signifies life ahead

~ ~ ~

light in darkness

a power outage . . .

she rushes to light a candle

summer blues in town

~ ~ ~

Goodbye candles

a soul is set free . . .

people light candles at grave

signifies life led

~ ~ ~

a planet kindled

a planet kindled . . .

there can be light without life,

not life without light

~ ~ ~

This post is submitted at Haiku Heights for Day 3 prompt – Candle. This post is also a part of my NaPoWriMo 2013 journey, my first. I am also trying to take up the A-to-Z Blogging challenge which requires bloggers to write a post everyday during all April. I will try to write separate posts for NaPoWriMo and A-to-Z Blogging Challenge IF possible. I sure want to.

I am going to share your everyday Haiku on my Facebook Page. Keep tabs on it too.

Thank you all for reading my haiku. I’ll be reading yours too, and I enjoy each one of your haiku. Your comments always help me improve and motivate myself to keep going.

Thank you and keep writing! 

Tweet me at @WeOweWomen.

King, Dove, Friend And Peace – Haiku #33


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Scene I

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A Dove flying in some mysterious but beautiful place ( First Person – Dove )

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O’ mother, thank you,

soothing plains, blissful green woods,

wonderful is world.

~ ~ ~

pristine, agile winds,

lift mine spirits to heavens,

wings hardly matter (for spirit).

~ ~ ~

angelic white, mine

plumage, how many hearts changed,

chose peace over battle?

~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~

Scene II

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A cruel king came for hunting Stag ( First Person – King )

~ ~ ~

( Addresses the Stag )

mine aim wavers not,

arrow tip bellows thy end,

royal dish, thine flesh!

~ ~ ~

( Suddenly he sees the dove above )

~ ~ ~

elegant beauty,

she’s mine, on royal platter,

arrow aims high now,

~ ~ ~

( Addresses the Dove now )

~ ~ ~

O’ dove, thee is mine,

die proud as regal king’s food,

death be upon thee!

~ ~ ~

( He leaves the Stag and loosens the arrow at the dove and she is hit )

~ ~ ~

Ha Ha! King I am,

no being eludes arrows,

Dove slayer king, me.

~ ~ ~

Scene III – Act I

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A man sees the dove being hit by the arrow and runs to the fallen bird ( First Person – Man )

~ ~ ~

O’ mine friend, tell who

hath brought this upon thee –

my sword rages in anger.

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O’ mine friend, beauty,

leave this world not, breathe please, love,

god needn’t have you.

~ ~ ~

don’t shut eyes;

O’ blind god, why her;

love, love, friend!

~ ~ ~

The Dove speaks to the man  and at the same time,the cruel king reaches a point where he can hear her speak, he stops and listens ( First Person – Dove )

~ ~ ~

O’ kind friend of mine,

thy love for nature pleases

it is time i rest.

~ ~ ~

promise, little one,

that thy sword tastes no blood, to

avenge mine that spilled,

~ ~ ~

shed blood never, Friend,

keep peace, alive or dead; world

needs peace, give it and……………………………

~ ~ ~

( Dove breathes no more )

( King  comes out of the bushes, the friend of Dove speaks )

~ ~ ~

My King,  great hunter,

none can match your skills, no one

in your whole kingdom!

~ ~ ~

My King, what justice,

do you serve, your cruelty

is the crown you wear!

~ ~ ~

Hadst she not asked peace,

(i) shan’t think twice, i’l behead thee,

my foot on thy crown!

~ ~ ~

( The king speaks )

~ ~ ~

O’ grieving friend of  Dove,

i lay down my crown and sword,

i repent mine wrongs

~ ~ ~

O’ trustful friend of Dove,

ascend mine throne, give peace then

kingdom needs her, peace.

~ ~ ~

O’ true friend of Dove,

forgive ,  i will show myself

to no eyes again.

~ ~ ~

( The king goes into the wilderness in repentance and to keep the kingdom running, Dove’s friend ascends the throne.

He speaks : )

~ ~ ~

every battle now,

that we shall be part, be for

peace, not blood or pride .

~ ~ ~

every battalion,

shall bear white flag, symbol peace,

remembering dove.

~ ~ ~


Tweet me at @sankarajayanth

I don’t know why, when i saw the prompt the first thing to come to mind was “alive or dead, peace.”.
maybe due the ever eluding peace, for which runs a daily quest for me and that my tired mind and soul longs for a piece of it.
And peace = dove, as many things i relate to nature. And i thought of presenting it this way.

And later when i was half way through, i remembered a childhood story : hunter kills a pigeon but the pigeon’s wife gives shelter to hunter,
to satisfy and do justice to the dharma of comforting the guests, she jumps into flames to become the food for the guest.
My story, i think, was almost the same. So, i thank that childhood story and whoever wrote it.


Suggestions and corrections are most welcome, I’m still learning Haiku.

This post is an entry in Haiku Challenge for April 2012 at Haiku Heights. The prompt being ‘alive’.


Arms Of Forgiveness – Haiku #20


you are in for a long set of haiku ( abberated ones ), have patience if you can manage. 🙂

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O’ Love, in thy arms,

of forgiveness, is written

mine exile,  hidden

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, in thy arms,

of forgiveness, a thriving man,

who hurt thee in past

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, in thy arms,

of forgiveness, a broken man,

who hurt thee, never

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, thine virtue 

hath me breathing hard, why blind,

what sin i doth thus?

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, thine virtue,

forgiveness, hadst me exiled,

someone else got closer.

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, speak ‘least now,

i question not in arrogance,

what sin i doth thus?

~ ~ ~

if to -try to ebb

thine pains served by life- is to

sin, then i did sin.

~ ~ ~

if to -hide my name,

in humility- is to

sin, then i did sin.

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, what hadst i

done, that hath me pushed into

this vile emptiness.

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, in angst, i,

ask thee to see, difference,

in love and true love.

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, in thy arms,

of forgiveness, is written

mine exile,  hidden.

~ ~ ~

archaic (old English) words :

hath = has

hast = have

hadst = had

thy / thine = your

thou / thee = you

doth = do / does

~ ~ ~

i started writing it as a haiku,

but the inner feelings caught me in a grip and dictated me to write this, even if there were abberations from the rules of haiku

~ ~ ~

one thing i want to tell not in haiku :

forgiveness is a great virtue,

a very great one indeed,

but in excess of it,

shall, many a time,

sinners thrive,

while all along, good ones get the woeful plate of plight.

how strange.

how harsh.

how forgiving ( yes, sarcastic in deed ).

~ ~ ~

This post is an entry in Haiku Challenge for April 2012 at Haiku Heights. The prompt being “forgive”.

Hurt Her Not – Haiku #18


forgive : i feel it is a tough word in general and a tough word for a haiku too.

so here’s my try :

” thou hast my lady,

hurt her not, forgive she may,

as lost love, i won’t “

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i donno if people can get what i tried to tell, i would just say that this haiku’s fictional context is

” my love is with an other man, her only man (she never was mine, in fact), but i still love her, for eternity.

and i warn ( not in grudge, but in a concerned urge, for my lady) him, as she chose him, above me,

i warn him not to disappoint her or hurt her because i wouldn’t if i was him.

O’ love,

lost love.”

~ ~ ~

This post is an entry in Haiku Challenge for April 2012 at Haiku Heights. The prompt being “forgive”.

If Destiny Decides That I Be Alone (Poetry)


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rush of emotions //
concern, love, care, anger, frustration //
too small a heart that is mine //
wants a shoulder to rest upon //
wants a hand to pat its back //
but all the emotions have made mine heart too hot //

click for high resolution image


that it is almost burning //
and everyone backed away //
forget hands patting my back //
i hardly hear anyone breathing close to me, distances as they are, grew //
and the one breath i hear is mine; one I hardly see any meaning in //
too harsh it would be, if i gave up //
too painful it is already, to carry on //


i said to myself,


” If destiny decides that I be alone, so be it. “


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Tweet me at @sankarajayanth

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