Chup, bad girl

******

‘Bad uncle...’ the child whispers, shifting uneasily.

Mother glances at Neighbour – kind and respectable. No, he wouldn’t!!

She nudges her 6-year old irritably, ‘Chup*… Bad girl!‘

******

(An attempt to tell a story in Haiku form)

Innumerable cases of child abuse are not stopped simply because we do not believe our children enough. We brush their fears aside, thinking they are baseless. They aren’t. They never are. If a child feels that there is ‘something wrong’ or ‘something bad’ – a touch, a comment, or even a look…  that just makes him/her feel uncomfortable, but is unable to express it, it is our damn duty to take up the matter seriously and investigate, and protect our children.

This post has been written for the Child Sexual abuse awareness month theme run by the Chennai Bloggers Club.

* ‘chup’ – ‘quiet’ or ‘shut up’

The rose, the Boy and the Tree

Caferati holds an annual GPF or Godawful Poetry Fortnight. To read more about this writing exercise, please click here.

Now, this particular godawful poem caught my attention, so I decided to write a sequel for it, assuming the original poet/author would not mind 🙂

So, here is the original poem by Aasif Shah:

An old tree craves for a company.
A boy comes and waters him.
He feels good.
‘Wish I could help you,’ says he to the boy.
‘No worries,’ replies the boy.

The tree dies.
The boy becomes lonely.
He decides to grow up.

The boy falls in love. But he can’t tell her.
He is too shy, you see.

One day, the girl gives him a red rose.

‘Hi, this is my rebirth as a rose!’ says the rose,
‘I am the old tree you once helped.’

And this is my response, rather, a sequel to his poem:-

‘Now isn’t that romantic?’ sighed the Boy
‘It certainly is’, Rose replied, coy
The boy picked up the rose, admired her beauty
‘You are, by far, most charming and pretty!’

‘Thank you’, said Rose, smiling bright
‘I came back for you, now Hug me tight!’
The boy turned red, like he was blushing…
Rose turned red too, as if petals crushing.

‘Rose, O, Rose’, Boy cried from his heart
‘Just tell me one thing, since we went apart
You made me mourn your death, and wait…
Until eternity, now let’s get this straight’

‘What is it you want so much, to know,
Proof of my love perhaps, you want me to show?’
‘No no’, replied Boy, ‘I will not put you to task’
‘But one niggling doubt, I sure want to ask!’

‘Tell me, tell me’ your heart’s desire
What is troubling your mind, O Sire!

‘Tree, O Tree, if all you wanted was Return to Me’
‘Why the hell didn’t you come back, as that girl saxy???????’

=============

And on this (ahem..) romantic note, I dedicate this poem to my Knight in shining armour 🙂 – my dream come true – on the occasion of our Wedding Anniversary!!!

(P.S: Uma, Deeps and some other well-meaning friends have been trying to bully me into writing something Mushy 😉 for the hubby, so I decided to publish the above poem instead 😉 Thank u girls, love you all 🙂 )

Lie, sound, colour, number, etc. [a light exercise] from Caferati

I came across this delightful writing exercise on Caferati, on the Ryze network. Pushpee has written a lovely poem  on her blog here and it was so interesting that I took it up too.

These are the guidelines:

Lie, sound, colour, number, etc. [a light exercise]

Line 1 – Write down something that happened this morning. But make it an out and out downright lie.
Line 2 – In the spirit of 1 – write a sentence with a sound in it.
Line 3 – Write a sentence with a colour in it.
Line 4 – Write a sentence with a number in it.
Line 5 – Write a sentence with a character from a book in it
Line 6 – Write a sentence with an animal in it.
Line 7 – Write a sentence with an emotion in it.
Line 8 – Write a sentence to do with the past, present or future.

You might want to go away, write it, cut and paste it. But write it quickly! Go for the first things that come into your head. But by all means do a little work on the finished result. The result may not be great poetry – but hey, it should be fun.

And this is what came out of it:

Just after his favourite breakfast, I killed him
Silence – is that the sound of the ‘seven-year itch’?!!
White walls splashed with red
Two bullets, the first had missed
He looked like the Ghost
And I, like a little rabbit, trapped
Afraid of what I had done
Unsure – of how I would use my new found freedom!!

 

Go on, all you budding writers and poets… give this exercise a shot!!

Hope your weekend is going on well 🙂

x

I wonder at possibilities (Poem, Indus Ladies contest)

Folks,

As I grow older, and a little wiser, I observe vast disparity all around me. Sometimes it sickens me. Sometimes it just makes me numb. Thinking about this, made me realise, that I believe what CAN make a difference to situations, to destinies, is education. Not that all educated people are sensible or sensitive. Still, I believe education empowers. So this is the topic I have chosen. Here is my entry to the Indus Ladies contest on Women’s Day (P.S: Been tagged by Shail).

===============

I WONDER..AT POSSIBILITIES

===============

Sometimes I wonder
If I were the girl who delivers milk at my door
What would I have done?
..Borne silent testimony to
..The brutality of a man who hit me?
..Toil endlessly day after day, only
..To donate it to the local liquor store!
..Walk my children barefoot on scorching roads?
..Hoping they, at least, would lead a better life!

Sometimes I wonder
If I were the girl who irons my clothes
What would I have done?
..Been a speechless spectator
..To baby clothes that morphed into designer wear
..And peers who eventually flew high
..While I gazed from below, Resigned!
..Wiping away an endless stream of sweat
..Amidst fumes from a hot coal box!

Sometimes I wonder
If more girl children
Could go to school, rather than
..Skip around potholes
..Oblivious to the heights I scale
..Or sweep or swab my home
..While I whistle in a cinema
..Or skilfully balance a brick wall on the head
..As I crib about glass ceilings!

I wonder at this wonder
This creature – smart, practical, beautiful
Who is just like me
..Only we live worlds apart
..Because I am empowered,
..I have read widely
..About how life CAN be
..About basic rights that belong to me
..And about infinite POSSIBILITIES

I wonder, if she were educated
Would she too, learn to believe
That destiny CAN be changed?

===============

And now, I have to tag three people.. hmm.. and that would be (1) Roop (2) Pixie (3) Piper

(Thank you, Pragya, for reviewing this at such short notice!)

Cheers..

‘In silent sufferance’ – Plane and simple

‘In silent sufferance” is the fortnightly theme on S&Co. and this is my contribution.

Eleven long hours its been,
Since the shores of my homeland seen

The inflight music, an incessant drone
Someone, lend me an ear-phone!

I stretch, I bend, and wince and moan,
Muffled sounds, I piteously groan

I turn to my left, and then to my right,
Arrrgh! This is one horrible night!

Until finally, with valour I stare
At the pot-bellied man, who polished his fare!

He looks at me, lets a toothy smile,
Phew! That gust of wind smells vile!!

The aloo-tikki has done its job
That awful mooli on the hob!

With a happy ‘Burrrrp’, he rubs his tummy
Winks at me, and asks ‘Some rummy?’

I weakly smile, pretend I’m homesick
In unstated misery, I see my watch tick

When? Oh when..will this journey end
Oh! Run for cover! He’s going to bend!

How I wish I could summon the crew
And have thrown this monster, into the loo!

Or push him out of the aircraft? Don’t!!
I would if I could, but I can’t so I won’t!

Please let me know what you think. I think it needs a lot of re-work. Editing, Tweaking, whatever. Suggestions/critique eagerly sought 🙂

The Ghost

She would sit hunched,
Every night.
Ever watchful
Of Ghosts
Lurking behind shadows.

Waiting patiently,
Every night.
Adamantly keeping open
Drooping, heavy eyelids,
Ears tuned to whispers from the unknown.

She would fall into an abyss
Some nights,
Of sleep, so overpowering
He would then appear
In her dreams.

Caressing her gently
At night…
His touch, cool and tender
on her hot forehead.
But when she awoke, startled

She would find darkness
Every night!
And then she would wish for
An apparition, even frightful
Of the ghost of her lover!

For ghosts,
Were more tangible
Than dreams.

 

(Girls/Guys, you know that I know a sh*t about poetry..but I attempted this on some sudden …ahem.. inspiration. Please let me know, HONESTLY, what you think? Does it seem, even from a distance, something like a poem?… Thankidou!)

Godawful Poetry 2009

Yay! Godawful Poetry contest is back again. Check the links to this wonderful contest here, here and here. Caferati is a vibrant place to be!!

So! This contest is all about writing rubbish..in poetic form, ofcourse. I guess that comes REALLY easy for me.

Btw, this was my first GPF contribution for this year:

Yay! Its that time of year
To leave behind all fear
Rave and rant all we can
GPF, I am your pankha (read: fan)!

And my second:

Response to Ozzy-ji- GPF # 2
Oye my dear Ozzyji,
I very much enjoying Poetry!
This GPF is full riot, see?
I going for jumping Bun-ji!

Now I am really missing
Old contestants for ‘GPF Queen / King’!
Without them, my mood dingy…
Summon the Rita-ji and the Rumbo-ji.

But remember, when you write poetries
That Life is never-ending seas
From once birth to once dearth
Bless that man whose Words r Worth!

 

Why don’t you guys and girls try a hand at GPF?

🙂

That which is called Perfect

Wrote this in response to a poem titled ‘A PityParty’ by my dear blogger friend Pushy.

 

A pity party
Did you say?
‘Count me in!’
I ferevently pray.

But shrewd cruel words
Are not my fare
Ms.Perfect and Me?
Don’t you compare!

Because you know,
Just as I do,
That what is ‘perfect’
Is hardly true!

Our imperfections make us Real,
Interesting..and Adorably Lively!
So your poem should really be
‘A p(r)ity party!!’

A walk in the rain

A smile on your lips,

That deep, beautiful dimple

Your laughter, a tinkle

As we walked in the rain!

 

Starry eyes that danced,

Your words, lilting and lovely!

Happiness seared through me

As we walked in the rain!

 

Amid the deafening

pitter-patter I found

Serenity unbound

As we walked in the rain!

 

As I relished every

Moment of this journey,

You popped the question:

‘Mummy, will you carry me?’

 

I gather you,

Your little toy train

And this precious memory,

Of our walk in the rain!

——— 

This is for my dearest little ‘Rishibaby’

Holidays (rotten poem)

The whole world yet to see
We finally decide ‘romantic Italy’!

Once the papers are ready,
We queue at the Embassy

‘Oh! Sorry, we’re busy…
‘Book an appointment’, says she

We go away, crossly (So much for forced rhyme!)
But finally manage to see

The bespectacled lady
Who grants a visa to Italy!!
So we’re set, to fulfil a dream:
Venice, Florence, Rome

Though nothing really can seem,
Better than Home Sweet Home 🙂