Do Not Let Her Go Untouched

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Do Not Let Her Go Untouched

 

Interspersed and enmeshed within layers of pain
Disguised as fleeting moments of cheer
There exists random transitory happiness

Capture her when she shows her face
Do not let her go unnoticed while she’s there
Follow her through, for she is rare

Leave aside all other ceaseless tasks
Hold her with your two obliged hands
Focus and absorb, feel bliss and bless

Then just as she decides to take leave
Detachedly allow her to slip away
Don’t cry for her, do not come in her way

For you already knew this, didn’t you?
That she never intended to stay forever.
She never did, she never does.

See her off with a smile, save the memories
To keep you afloat through the days of despair
Happy thoughts of her, till she returns again.

Be brave. Have heart. She will. She does.

© 2017 Alka Girdhar

I wrote this poem spontaneously as I realized today is International Day of Happiness. Of course, happiness is not just a flower amidst thorns. For some, life is the other way around too.

Each one of us has our own cross to carry as well as our individual process of learning how to cope with it, by general acceptance of things as they are while still discovering happiness within what seems like mess or chaos, and by focusing on little moments of joy.

 

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That Golden Girl…

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That Golden Girl…

In a crystal clear pond full of ducks, there once lived a golden swan. The pond was called Paani, and Goldie was the name of the swan. The names were of course given by some human mind.

Born so different, Goldie was the only one of her kind. Envied by fellow females. Chased by fellow nasty males. Towards her, not many were kind.

Humans would take her pictures. But some would also pelt her with stones, to see how she reacted when in pain. But she never whined.

She avoided them all. She stayed to herself. But soon lonesome became her ride. Paying the price of being different, she could never find a mate. No family. No baby cygnets. No tribe.

One day she decided to paddle on to another pond, all in her desperate attempt to find another one of her kind. But there was none. Never was.

….

For the inmates of the new pond were no different. There were no golden ducks in the new pond, only those who were either black or white. They too could not bear Goldie’s deviance, golden and bright.

They isolated her. They accused her of stealing their share of food. For days she got nothing to eat. She felt like an alien. Like a fish out of her pond. Which of course she anyway was.

She left that pond too. Soon she lost her way. Thereafter no one ever saw her again.

The guys back at Paani, were full of remorse. For they had lost their golden girl, due to their own narrow mean mind.

They could clearly see now their Goldie was rather a class apart. She deserved to be Paani’s pride. She was the only one of her kind.

….

Long time has lapsed since Goldie has been gone. There are rumors around Paani, that every night a golden duck can be seen around.

Not seen by everyone though. Can be seen only by the fortunate few. In fact only by the unfortunate lonesome few. The wronged, the forbidden and the hidden, who dare to venture out only at night.

Seeing Goldie is indeed a sight! Quacking. Gliding. Paddling. All by herself. When the whole world sleeps, when no one would see her or judge her, she comes out from nowhere to have a good time.

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Today, the above photo, that I must have seen while scrolling down the Reader, came into my mind from nowhere. The above weird tale built on…though I absolutely forgot where I had seen this picture.
Of course l discovered just in time, that it was #writephoto prompt by Sue Vincent and I could use it here. Thanks Sue for igniting this strange poetic-story!

Fly Like A Kite

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Matariki Kite Festival


Fly
Like A Kite

Fly aloft like a kite
Soar high and higher still
Ecstatic and bouncy with delight
Walk dreamily on clouds
Enthrall viewers on the ground

Probe uncertain realms
Be coaxed by gentle wind
To never give up half-way through

Find your strength, have faith
That your string is in reliable hands
Of that fond player, who made you fly
Who carefully tuned your first leap forth
Till you found your own balance

 Fly high like a kite
Just don’t fall like one
Onlookers can be very unforgiving

~~~~ 

© 2016-17 Alka Girdhar.

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Be A Winner, This NewYear

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Congratulations!!  You have been so amazing
You there! Yes you…you are a bona fide winner

You have made it till the end of one lifeshaping year
You’re all set and geared, for another bountiful year

You could glide smooth through this long dicey year
You bravely overcame all your big and small fears

Your going got tough, but how you evolved even tougher
You did not permit the icy turmoils to make you shiver

You faced lethal demons, that were so hard to beat
You never knew you had it in you, but see…you did

You understood life’s all about stealing joyful moments
You learnt to be grateful for the life’s very existence

You made some friends, but you sure lost some
You got some love, and you did lose some

You took mindful steps towards the betterment of self
You perpetually endeavored to achieve your best

You dived headlong, reached out to grasp a fuller life
You were resolved to work towards a blessed family life

You lost some, but then you did gain some
You made it through, aren’t you just awesome?

You can do it all again, all this and much more
You have it in you, and you always will forevermore

You’ll be blessed by God, in this brand new roller-coaster
You’ll emerge out stronger, year after year, year after year.

© 2016 Alka Girdhar

 

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Three Sisters – Blue Mountains Katoomba – timeless resilient mounts

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Wish you all lovely readers and dear followers of my blog, a very HAPPY NEW YEAR 2017!!

May your  new year be better than the one that you are leaving behind.
Did you have a great 2016, or not so good? Hang in there.

As you can still keep your hopes alive in 2017.

Life & Money

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Life & Money

is life all about money? Is it?
less money
more money
black money
white money
giving money
getting money
earning money
stealing money
spending money
valuing money
no money
no money means no life? Or does it?

Life is about money; more about
Power, positions, fame
And some love…
Can money buy love?
Can it purchase a dying life? Can it?

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

I wrote these lines in keeping with the recent demonitization in India, the scrapping of high value currency, the Rs 500 and Rs 1,000 notes. Its higher aim was/is to get rid of corruption. We see how big an impact this process had on each and every Indian resident, and also on non-resident Indians to some extent, for they too hoard rupees wherever they may live.

During such times life does begin to revolve around the value of money, that is, what all a few pieces of paper can or cannot buy.  And people start valuing the ‘right’ money even more.

A daily wage laborer cannot feed his/her family without money, and although money cannot buy love, only valid usable currency can pay a marriage celebrant or a priest. These previously treasured 500 and 1000 Rupee notes are obsolete and even hospitals want the right currency notes, only then they can save lives.

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But then again, less money could finally mean less corruption in the society and in people’s hearts.

What do you say?.

These Veterans of Motherhood

motherhood

These Veterans of Motherhood

Young moms are moms. Sure!
Are older moms moms too?
Seen it all. Been there. Done that.
Rotund tummy, birthing nerves, joy at the new-born
Ones, who once changed and washed far more nappies
And soothed their colicky babies
Have now left teethers and rattles behind
Disposed them, barring a few…for sweet memories.

Arriving in an alien land, landing double-shift jobs
No extended families ever, lonely media-less times.
Walked their toddlers to child-care, settled them in a kindy
Initiated their primary schooler’s A, B, Cs and Ds
Exhausted weekends at (selective-school) coaching centres
Helped their prodigies with high-school projects
Made secure their future, saw them soar high
Empty handed moms – from their nest the kids fly
Soft-hearted moms become hardened moms

Young moms, still learning about motherhood?
Older mommies, the walking encyclopaedias
Been there. Done that. Seen it all.
Kind of still young, but growing older
Preparing for another dose of mom-hood
Booster shot, of becoming a grand(er) mom.
Some already are content grand-moms
Older moms, not less of a mom, if not more.
Not exactly passé, definitely not past

©Alka Girdhar 2016

~~~ ~~~

While writing this poem I had in my mind women friends who once arrived here in Australia as newly weds, or pregnant with their first child, while some had a toddler or two.

Over the years I have seen many of them undergo most of the above experiences as busy mothers, and now some of them are getting their children settled in jobs or marriage, while other moms would probably join them sometime in the coming years.

Recently I joined a mothers club. Many if not most women there are young mothers discussing problems faced by very new moms. There still are too many motherhood problems in this easy era of social media, even when most of them have plenty of helping hands around, that older moms never had.

Hence, I felt a need to remember the evolving role of the older, or should I say more experienced, mothers as well. Because the joys as well as responsibilities that come with motherhood continue for the whole life..

Freedom Is Everyone’s Birthright

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Magnanimous Word

Saare Jahan se Achcha…Hindustan Hamara

Happy Independence Day to all the people of Indian origin, wherever you are in this world, and of whatever faith, religion, color, caste or creed.  Be One!!   The country you hail from is one of its kind – a land of beautiful culture, strong values, spiritualism, linguistic and religious diversity.

It’s a day to value your freedom, to remember that it was attained after huge sacrifices, to not take it for granted and to constantly work towards maintaining this freedom so that our future generations can thank us, just as we thank our ancestors for the hard work they did to give us this day. A free country gives us all roots and belonging, it’s a prerogative but also an onus.

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This poem by Rabindranath Tagore sums it up:

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high
Where knowledge is free
Where…

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Crisis

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Crisis teaches us
Lessons we must learn
So as to grow

If we live on
After what seems
Like death

We either love life
more, or we do not
Love it anymore

Crisis changes us
For better or worse
It’s up to us

© 2016 Alka Girdhar

Crisis

Slowly

Good things happen slowly
Wait for them

Reckless drivers risk their hold
Lose their way

The first-sight love washes away
Devotion stays

Step-by-step work for your goal
Learn details

Slow and steady wins the race
At a uniform pace

Things will come to you slowly
If they are for you

If not, they will leave your path
Slowly, move away

© 2016 Alka Girdhar

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Self-Driven

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Source: Deviant Art Charpener

 

Self-Driven

Driving my life, now
Wheels unstuck from the daily rut
Towards all things fine

© 2016 Alka Girdhar

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For the daily prompt Drive