Do this do that !

Wake up quick
Hunger calls
Stay with the milk
Lest it falls
Rest a bit ?
Not at all possible
Carry on drudgery
Be responsible
Tackle the laundry
Cook cook cook
Check undone work
In the school book
Go shop for home
Make the list first !!!
Don't pick the bread
With the moldy crust
Veggies are dead
Throw them out
The white laundry
Has a pink pout
Oh ! So what ?
Few errors are fine
Cram in more work
In the limited time
And remember
As you fly around
This advice
Is doubly sound
Lose your mind
wallow in doubt,
But at others
You must never shout
You must be gentle,
sweet and kind
Look like a treasure 
A rare find
House is spotless?
Cooking a dream?
U r going crazy...
But u must not scream
Carry on soldier
Battle daily life
Its coz of you
Love will survive.

Just let it be

I am a planner by nature. There is a mental ' to-do' list which keeps whirring at all times. I complete a job and mentally tick it off. There is an insane satisfaction in putting these ticks. I challenge myself to cram as much as I can into the same minute, as if someone will put me on a pedestal and award me with a medal. As the day draws close, I often count off all the things done just to feel good.

I am sure this can be pretty irritating to those who take life at a normal pace. I always wonder how a person can carry on by saying, " I will do it later" or " I forgot" or more simply, " I don't think I can do it " with complete nonchalance. I am in awe of such people mentally. If there is one thing that I want Santa to gift me is the ability to calm down and take things slow. I not only mess up my own peace but become a ten pincered mega crab for those who don't fall in step with my pace and plans.

I plan and re-plan, think and over-think at all times. Those who are suffering from this syndrome will know that this can be pretty painful. Out of place things becon me with open arms , screaming to be put back into place. Its a different story that I start screaming simultaneously at the offender!

So I  have decided to consciously take it slower from now on. Let me also try my hand at mental peace. So let the bed be unmade today, and let the butter knife remain in the dish. The "to -do" monster is struggling against its chains,  but I will not unleash it on my mind. So today I will just 'let it be' and see if that makes me feel fine.

Will update soon....

Poetry Woes

To rhyme or not ?
The words I jot.
Is the issue forever
In each endeavour.
Thoughts flit and fly
As the day goes by.
Like soft warm clay
With words I play.
Patting them to shape,
As they flow and drape.
The feelings entwined
With thoughts in my mind.
And every time 
That I pause to rhyme,
I wonder why ?
I even try ?
When I easily can
Simply write deadpan.
Yet as thoughts flow,
I benevolently bestow,
The perfectly matched,
No words detached,
Canvas of rhyme,
Almost every time.

A dozen roses

A dozen roses,  for the years gone by
Each for the lasting fragrance in our lives
One for the arm which holds me tight
Fondly, each time on a tired night
One for the knowing look in those eyes
Two for the superb two little guys
One for the comfy home with you
Ok ,one for our fantastic cars too!
And one for the lovely time we spend
Vacationing together at lands end.
One for the grocery shopping each month
For bearing the load without a grunt
One for those sudden food cravings
Truffle cake with chocolate shavings !
One for hearing me prattle the day's alls
One for the 'whats for dinner?' calls
And one,my dear man,finally
For simply letting me be me

Missing Prajna

On such days which just wont die,
When they linger on , I wonder why
Do I suffer it all alone, when I should
Be having you by my side. I could
Be holding that right hand tight
And walking down the roads in delight.
Or I could be cradling the phone so long
trying to recall that one stubborn song
Stuck in your head and also in mine
While we watched that movie online.
Or maybe pour  all my troubles out
About silly people whom I could do without
Or share with you the  ache and pain
Which has started in my knees again
Oh why does this day linger on and on
Making me so pensive and forlorn
How I wish and pray that I can one day
Get back my friend whom I miss today
To nod my grey head and shake  my wrinkled hand
To endless chatter that only you would understand.

Your Name

Somedays sometimes in a pensive mood
When I weigh all things bad and good,
I fall silent at your name
Wondering if you think the same.
Don't know where to pin you down
Days u made me smile and frown
Go  so far back in memory lane
Yet, to this day I find you hard to explain
Are you good or are you bad for me
I close my eyes yet fail to see.
So I linger a lil longer on the name
Wishing that you would do the same.

- Piyu

A date with myself.

I am having a cup of coffee. In a busy mall. Just by myself. There are a thousand things to do. A thousand deadlines to meet. Yet,  I find myself within this bubble of suspended time,  with a cup of coffee.
Gregarious and socially overactive by nature,  I am rarely alone. I cannot recall many instances where I have been just by myself.
Mind you, I am just alone today, not lonely. Thoughts and feelings encompass me as I sit with my coffee. I wonder if many people would simply sit idle like I am right now and enjoy the company of their thoughts. And more importantly,  will society allow and accept it ?
The three men sitting by my side are casting furtive glances. Maybe wondering why a lady is sitting alone in a café. ..
The lady walking by holds her kid and husband closer as if to assert that she is more secure in her love...
Young girls giggle by as they whisper secretively into each others ears...
Are they as aware of me as I am of them ? Maybe,  maybe not. Yet I can feel the scornful pity as they find me alone with my cup of coffee.
But, I  want to shout out, let them know that I am completely happy and thoroughly at peace as I sit alone.  I am not alone...I am with Myself.

My Dawn

Give me a few moments at dawn
To soak in the powder pale skies
To feel the soft winds torn
From the wings of the bird which flies
To stand with my elbows at rest
On the dusty black balcony grill
To have the power to resist
The desire to grab a few winks still
To feel one with the soft flutter
Of the leaves of the newborn tree
To be able to hear the mutter
Of the pigeon setting its wings free
To count the windows in the tall towers
Which have  yellow light streaming out
To feel the softness of the dew showers
On the petals of colours I can't make out
Give me a few minutes at dawn
To sip a tepid cup of tea
Away from the work ridden world forlorn
Oh ! Please make me feel free.

The lollipop kid

At the grocery,  I waited, as the line at the cashier crawled. The evening had brought in a collage of people together. I feast on such sights, my hyperactive mind preying on people and their interactions, trying to glean tidbids from their lives. Momentarily,  I am a part of so many stories. I become one with the mom who chides her little girl, the newly weds who walk with entwined fingers.
The sly old woman who breaks the queue, using her old age to her advantage, irks me but interests me nevertheless.
My attention is drawn to a toddler playing with the string of lollipos hanging near the chips stand. Suddenly without any warning his breaks out into an incomprehensible, high pitched baby babble. Fat tears roll on to pink cheeks defying gravity and settling there without falling.
The trouble is easy enough to assume, he wants the lollipops.
Caught unaware is the toddler's little sister who must have been left in charge as the parents shopped. She looks discomfited and apologetic at the same time. Her eyes search the throbbing aisles of the shop in desperation,  yet she hushes her little brother and tries to calm him down. Her face looks helpless and guilty all at once. My heart goesout to her.
It led me to question, if girls are genetically programmed to be carers. The little girl was no more than 5, yet not once did she lose patience, not once did she go running to look for her parents. She accepted the tantrum of her brother. Tried to make the best of the situation by soothing him. Felt guilty for no fault of hers. Apologised to all the people around by  looking around and smiling weakly. Responsible and caring, she displayed a maturity level much beyond her age.
What amazed me more, was that she neither complained nor asked for a lollipop herself when her hassled parents arrived.
If I had a crown , I would have put it on her curly head there and then.  She was 'My everyday queen '.

The rediscovery trip

Through the years gone by,
My mother and I,
Have grown apart as we aged
Our lives and love, a bit damaged
She was lonely, I busy always
We wouldn't speak on many days
And on the days we did,
Empty words covered, what the eyes hid.
We connected now and then,
But drifted apart more often.
Then one bright summer day
We decided to go on a holiday
Bags packed I headed out
Not knowing that I was about
To embark on a recovery,
A relationship rediscovery.
I spoke to her and held her hand
Shared meals and walked on the sand
I was up early and so was she
We bonded over a cup of tea.
After ages I felt secure
I hugged her some and wanted more.

Sunset

I love watching sunsets. As I open my doors each evening to savour a few minutes of the setting sun, i enjoy watching the world pass by.

It is the time when many are out for their evening strolls. Young moms gang up and chatter away wheeling the prams, a little older moms jog by energetically, A few men run or walk alone and a few walk with their mobiles glued to their ears.
Young kids criss cross on bikes shouting at each other.

But what makes my heart turn, is the older couples who walk slowly, side by side and always in sync with each other. No cell phones or i pods to distract them, they revel in each others company. They may speak a few words or may just share silences but what i find incredibly romantic is the wrinkled hand on the wrinkled elbow gently guiding when a car or bike comes by.
Walking into the sunset..........

The Artist

I came rushing back from the market to find the AC service fellow waiting for me at my doorstep. 
Scruffy shoes, dirty shirt and dusty faced, he followed me inside to clean up the ACs. He went about cleaning and dusting away and became more and more dirty in the process.
Job done, he sat down to write out the bill and job card.
I could not believe my eyes as I saw his writing. Each letter was a sculpture carved in ink, each word a masterpiece worth framing. The letter formation was worthy of Victorian era scribes. 
On appreciation, he shrugged and said he had copied the style of writing from a maths teacher that he had.
He packed his stuff and left. An unknown artist of an unappreciated art.....

The Mommy Club

Driving to school daily with my kids makes my mornings the typical fast paced city mornings, with the cliche-ed running out with a toast in my hand kind of scenario. I love my job but, I hate the 7 am out of the house routine.
For the past two days I am stuck at home because of the lil one running a temperature. As a result I got the opportunity to drop my elder one to the bus stop in the mornings.

Ah! I love the school bus stop. Younger kids stealing every possible minute to play. The elder ones, with noses glued to their books,,cramming in whatever they can in the last few minutes. Moms rushing to deliver forgotten tiffin boxes and water bottles. Dads discussing either cars or sports ( limited range of topics). And the occasional grandparent fixing up satsang meetings.

The Mom's Club which functions at the school bus stop is the one stop solution for all life's problems, from which cough syrup to use, to how to find the perfect maid. It is also a great discussion forum for all moms' physical, emotional, work related, home related, beauty, shopping, TV serials, daily menu, kids study issues.

How I wish I could join this club and take a walk around the campus after sending off the kids. But then, grass is always greener on the other side of the fence right ?

Alone

As life has been, I have never had a chance to be completely on my own. Student life at home, with parents melted into married life with hubby and in laws. Kids followed, and my desire to have the house only to myself just faded away....
The past few days unexpectedly left me alone at home, with the kids vacationing at their grandparents' place. The little desires of opening the main door to a empty home suddenly became a reality. Endless hours of noiseless rest stretched out in the mind's eye.
Sitting down for a meal alone, I realised i was just that, alone. No bags and shoes dumped in the drawing room, no fighting for extra time in the bath tub, no sneaky eyes peeping to check if I had fallen asleep....My afternoons are empty and long.
I envy those who enjoy their own company because I thrive in the cacophony of my kids and miss them desperately when they are not there.
But this has to remain a secret from them 

Secret

I was sipping my ice tea in peace when my elder one came and sat next to me quietly. My mommy instincts picked up immediately and I asked " you want to say something?"
Now, my elder one is the anti thesis of the younger one. Reticent and thoughtful, he rarely professes much information about himself. But today he was bubbling with excitement and the funny smile which comes with concealed truth.
He whispered ," Mumma, today in the afternoon, while you were sleeping, I discovered a bad word in my dictionary!"
My heart skipped a beat, I tried to dig up courage to broach the taboo topics with my 8 yr old son. As I braced myself, he continued with ," it begins with a P and it is on page no 256"
Truly in trouble, i asked quiveringly, " what is it?"
He blushed hard, came very close to my ears and said, "potty"

I still have a few more years of peace...... :))))

A lil sunshine

I am sitting on a high table dangling my legs ( doesnt happen often). All around me are variously coloured belted karate students , waiting to perform and graduate to the next belt colour.
A lil girl in blue shorts and a yellow top is flitting around waiting for her elder sis to get free.
Her mom is sitting on a parapet nearby. The little one is running a few steps away from her mom, always keeping her in sight and again rushing back into her outstreched arms for a cuddle and a kiss.
Neither she nor her mom are tiring of this repetative routine. Oblivious to the world they are happy and content in each other's love.......pure and simple.

A Shoulder to lean on

The pink flowers which caught my attention everyday as I drove to school are gone. Now dry twiggy plants wave me by. 
Every other day I used to comment on the fluttering pink blooms and my elder one joined me in their appreciation.
When I was missing them today, he profoundly said, " Mumma, they will be back next year"
More than his comment, I loved the fact that he wanted to console me in my sadness. He felt the dip in my mood and wanted to alleviate my pain.
All of a sudden I realised, I now have a support , a bud which is fast blossoming into the branch I can twine around 
Love you Rio....

The Pink Sky

In the evening as I was strolling by,
I chanced a glance upon the sky ,
In awe my eyes opened wide
As I was hit by the fuchsia tide
Burnt oranges melting into pinks,
Deepening, darkening as the sun sinks.
A dog barks, a car goes by
As I stand staring at the sky.
A silent shout escapes my mind
Where in the world would I find ?
A treasure so pretty, colours so bright.
Just around the corner, such a splendid sight.
If only today the time stood still ,
And my world shrunk to my window sill,
With my eyes, I would internalise
The slowly darkening, pink skies…….

Cold Cream

Growing up has seen my elder one shirking away from physical touch. The turned up nose on hugging , the swift brush of the hand on a kiss, the awkward one handed hug .....I have got used to it now.
Winter has brought in dry and chapped skin and nothing can cure it better than sticky cold cream rubbed in with lots of tender loving care.
The hands linger just a little bit longer, framing the face which once used to fit in my palms. Eyes stare a moment longer , drinking in the flinched up face. How I wish I could prolong these winter moments ........

The Teacher in me

If ever ocassionally on a difficult day,
Muddled with overwork,my mind does say,
Why on earth have I landed here,
When I could have been else anywhere...
The heart replies with utmost care
'Do not forget that everywhere,
The little seeds of love you have sown,
Have blossomed into flowers unknown.
Those hands you have held, minds you fired
Have all grown in strengths you always desired.
On special days or in routine life
Whether in happiness or in strife,
Remember that you are forever near
To these kids who always hold you dear'

Me Queen

I was in full flow in the evening, preparing the kids for dictations and assignments when my frustrated lil one commented , " Mumma, you are a teacher. Do you rule your class ?" 
I said , yes.
He followed with ," you rule the home too ?"
Yes again. 
So what are you , a queen ?

I am dreading when two years later he would no longer politely hide the word 'dictator' anymore !!!

Clothing

I had this huge pile of clothing to fold and stack in front of me. My mind screamed , " a hectic week gone by, a bleak work filled week streching out, one blink and you miss it Sunday.....and this huge clothing pile to add to the misery !"
I paused with a two small mismatched socks in my hand and suddenly realised that in a few years I would no longer be sorting these socks, no longer worrying about incomplete homework or tummy aches or scraped knees......so I might as well enjoy it while it lasts. 
So I put on some super mushy music and tackled the clothing pile with love

Virtual Queen

Oh what an addiction, obsession , affliction  
Has it developed into a clinical condition ?
I walk around in a dreamy trance      
The heart in London , the mind in France
Did it rain in New York tonight ?  
Oh ! Did that cat give you a fright ?      
A myriad thoughts run amok
With my phone screen always held aloft
Whattsapp, facebook , or plain old email
Has ruined the life of this poor female
I cook with one hand , dress with one
The phone a constant in the other one
Rarely I care bout what's been said
Lest I miss the latest status update.
I suck my breath and thrust my breast
For my DP I have to look my best
Oh! the milk is boiling but not yet spilt
And I have a few seconds to be killed
So out comes the magical screen so bright
I check a few messages in absolute delight
Oh damn ! The milk has boiled over
Who cares ? To the screen my eyes lower
I am pretty unhappy, if I may confess
As I stare desolately at the milky mess
But soon the virtual world beckons
And I am lost in it for eons and eons
A mother, a teacher I once had been
But I now pronounce myself the virtual queen
Oh what an addiction, obsession , affliction
Has it developed into a clinical condition ?

The Waiting Room

The  Waiting  Room

-     Piyu Mukerji

The neurologist’s chamber was a busy place that cold Saturday morning . Saturdays were the busiest days here, with barely any space to sit. People waited around, some patiently and some otherwise.

She  sat at the corner giggling into her mother’s lap. There was a radiance about her which was so attractive that it was difficult to keep my eyes away from her. Her hair was drawn up in a bouncy ponytail and her pink cheeks dimpled with every uncontrolled giggle. Her mother kept whispering something into her ears which made her burst into more laughter.

That Saturday morning, there  were all  kinds of people and there was this little girl in the blue sweater. A husband and wife came in , the husband looking about anxiously at the large number of people waiting. He looked around till he spotted a small place on the sofa which he showed his wife for sitting. As the wife sat down, I noticed that she kept rubbing her fingers together, clenching and unclenching them. The husband must have been a very busy man as he kept on speaking into his cell phone in low tones continuously. I wondered  about  their marriage , did she sit around watching TV as he barked order to his subordinates on his phone ? Did she fuss over her children as he buried himself in his work ? Or maybe she was a busy working professional too, taking some time off because of her illness. The husband managed to find some space to squeeze next to her on the sofa, which caused the little girl in the blue sweater to stick even closer to her mom and collapse into more giggles.

As the husband settled next to his wife , he continued speaking into the phone, only now he gingerly unclasped the wife’s trembling and clenched fingers and held them in his. His love was unspoken but omnipresent. The little girl in the meantime had started reciting a poem softly to her mother as her mother rocked to the rhythmic lilt in her voice.  I wondered why the mother had brought the child into this morbid environment? Could she not have left her behind? She would have been happier in a playground rather than here.

The man who was sitting at the corner, stared ahead without blinking. I saw his eyes mist up but he did not blink. Suddenly without any premise , he broke out into a dialogue with an imaginary character. He gestured,spoke , nodded and even shook his head vehemently. And just as suddenly as he had started, he stopped. I wondered why this man was alone today. Did he not have anyone to help him with the doctor’s visit?

The unblinking man’s sudden burst had made the old woman sitting next to him wary. She clutched the shirt of her husband sitting next to her and slowly got up and changed her seat. Human fear overtook compassion as she kept stealing fearful glances to the unblinking man. 

My little girl in the blue sweater was totally unaffected by all the misery around her.  She was cocooned  in her mother’s lap still giggling, still unbelievably happy. Some of the people were smiling at her as she giggled, maybe feeling buoyed by her enthusiasm. Some simply looked too morose to care and some I thought, were feeling jealous. Jealous of happiness so pure, jealous of the fact that she was healthy and happy while they suffered, jealous of the glow on her face which was unparalleled.

I prayed that her mom recovered quickly from whatever illness she had. This little ray of sunshine deserved to be always this happy, this radiant. As I thought these things, the doctor’s assistant nodded at the little girl’s mom to indicate that it was her turn now. The mother called out to the girl’s father who had been standing at a corner, almost invisible to the eyes. He came forward and helped the mother to make the girl stand. I realised that my little blue sunshine could not walk. Her legs stretched out limply from her body. As her parents half carried, half dragged her into the doctor’s room, she turned back one last time to give me a last sunny smile. As if she knew, that I needed the reassurance at that moment. As if she wanted to say, “ Its Ok ! Life goes on “

Cabbage Head

The one thing about being a teacher which always amazes me is the mesmerising power I hold over my students. Its an amazingly passionate and intense feeling to be talking about the subject I love to a bunch of curious minds.
Today I embarked on the story of evolution.  Evolutionary biology is one of my favourites.  Its mysterious and story like. There are a lot of assumptions which makes it almost mythical.  The long lost woolly mammoth, the sinister looking sphenodon, the large dinosaurs, all come alive on the dull winter morning to liven up my class.
The amazing debates over how evolution is not progress with students, stimulates the mind. How my life as a human is no different biologically than say, the life of an ant or a lizard fires up the imagination of my little scientists.  How I can claim no superiority over any organism is a humbling thought. I don't need to teach value education separately, my subject teaches enough values.
Today's discussion was specifically interesting.  We were talking about speciation, and the discussion turned towards the creation of new species by humans. The usual mule, liger, zonkey were brought up and had fun with. A student from the back benches came up with the idea of how maybe we could crossbreed humans with vegetables !!! Before I could steer the discussion towads the genetic improbability, the entire class had started visualising potato heads and carrot stick bodies. Finally, I had to visualise myself with a cabbage for a head too. How convenient, just pluch out a few leaves from the top of your head when hungry !
Oh ! The pleasures of teaching biology cannot be expressed in words....