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.

~ Alka ~

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.

Please do feel free to share your views via comments. You can also share my posts on your social media.

When Life Turns Malignant, Life is Our Greatest Bliss

Ask a person living on the margins of life
Months, days, hours, minutes to live.
Every breath matters. Life seems so beautiful!
The greatest bliss in this world is ‘life’!!

Life, that resides inside our tiny cells
A miniscule complex invisible world
Complete in itself…with nucleus, cytoplasm
Mitochondria, the powerhouses…
Life, the hectic motion of cell molecules
That sustain us, as we sustain them

Have you ever bothered about little cells
Inside your tissues and bones? They exist.
But do you ever think they are gorgeous?
Or superb? Or wonderful?
Are you thankful to your good cells?
Are you aware of their power?

No. We assume we are the stalwarts
Able bodied and alive. Cells merely reside in us.
Oh! But aren’t we just an ensemble of cells?
Walking talking cell-clusters of all shapes and kinds
Then why would cells not matter!

For a cancer patient, every cell matters
How many white blood cells, red blood cells
good cells, bad cells…cell count counts!
Debilitating fear prevails, of some sickly cell
Stealthily 
traveling to distant healthy body parts

To install another tumor that devastates.

The sole purpose of life, then centers around

Despising malignant cells – throwing them out
Loving healthy cells – feeding them with goodies
Healthy cells equal life, unhealthy cells a step closer to demise.
Every good cell matters, it’s meant to be nurtured and fed
Every bad cell too matters, for it needs to have an end
Each cells matters in this battle, of tightly holding on to dear life!!

We live by cells. Cells become life. Cells are life.
It’s as if deadly cells know they are all powerful
Angry disordered clumsy beings that turn malicious
Cause havoc, with loving sober cells they begin a fight.

But cells live by us, as they need us for their very life.
For only we can feed them, as they don’t have a mouth
Bad cells depend on us, they eat what we eat. They lose power
Food becomes our power, to save robust cells and their life.

That day is not far when we shall selectively feed
 healthy cells
While killing only bad cells, depriving crooked villians of their life

Victory over cancer will one day redeem many precious lives

Sure, life in our healthy cells is a precious gift, greatest of all
When life begins to get exhausted of living, true bliss it is
To relish each and every moment…of what we call life !!

 

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I started the above poem with bliss of life in my mind. But given that I have closely seen a few cancer patients at various stages of this malady, and talked to many more of those suffering while I happened to visit cancer wards, the poem took a different turn and became not only complex but also out of tune and form. Disorganized, like malignant cells.

Victory of life is about good cells and bad cells…more so for those fighting with cancer. Besides other reasons, cancer cells win when they are fed enough for them to become overpowering. They compel good cells to commit suicide.

Also, “Cancer cell do not drive the growth and spread of tumors alone — they can bully their healthy neighbours into helping them.”

Thus, they are baddies through and through. One day when science is able to cut off all kinds of support to bad cells, that is when there will be cancer cure.

~~~ ~~~

#WorldCancerDay #WeCanICan .

When She Learnt to Get Her Voice Heard

Aria was visiting her native land after many years, and she visited her high school after what seemed like ages. As she parked her car near her school, she stood looking at a pathway and saw herself once again. Distant. A faint silhouette slowly moving away.

~~~

Young Aria sitting on the back seat of her school teacher’s bicycle while he rode leisurely. This slow-moving bike journey along the short tree-lined path, took them from their school to All India Radio, the local radio-station that had recording studios within. Those days when private channels had not yet mushroomed, the government-run AIR was the only radio-station in her city. Continue reading

Ode To Pingbacks

Ode To Pingbacks

You sense their presence
Not when they are there
But when they are not.

When they refuse to work
When they go on strike
Like some bunch of union workers
Usually overlooked and small
Taken for granted by big shots
Seemingly unimportant
Till they decide to hold down
A smoothly running system
And bring it to a sudden halt

But unlike overworked underpaid workhorses
They sulk not, not even complain
Or file their written protest summon
Or wait for ages for some fair windfall

Pingbacks vanish without a warning or a ping
And come back on their own, not when we call

*****

 

Playful Pingbacks

How often does it happen, that
With all our champion ideas galore
A writer’s block grips us
And words just refuse to pour!

It also happens that, when
Through our heart’s hems and seams
Creativity overflows and brims
But that’s when playful pingbacks cheat

No wonder then that
Our masterpieces die un’discovered’
For they are not even born.

Hey! Do you think my logic is wrong?

Chain Links

 

I wrote these two when pingbacks were not working. But I got busy and I could post only now.
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Apology Unrendered

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Have seen it time and time again
Those who hurt us in some big way
And never feel sorry, come what may
Never realize and never acknowledge
But act as if theirs is always a superior way

They’re sure to hurt us more and more
In the same manner  Continue reading

‘Discover’ Me Not, nor Press Me Freshly.

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Aboriginal artist at our community fair: He plays it but not for fame or commerce.

 

A Path To Self-Discovery

 

Word Press!
You’re no Columbus
And I’m no India, waiting
To be discovered by one and all
“Hey! Come and certify my riches, my worth.”
But in case you are indeed Columbus
You’ll never reach me anyway…
You’ll lose your way to some La La land

Have I lost myself that you wanna find me?
Something, that did not happen
While I was here all along, for months.
But how could you discover me?
You were not color-blind
I too was not colorless, only tactless.
The tricks of the trade
I just could not learn.

It didn’t happen then
So how will you ‘discover’ me now?
After all, I did squeeze out some raw talent
The ink is now getting dried, my pen leaking blood.
My insides now aching…to be Freshly Aired!

Will I cry if I die undiscovered?
Naah! I managed well till now.
Survived – hale and hearty.
Coz’ I had it in me.
The hunger to extract my being
From where it truly was
Buried deep inside me.
You wouldn’t have done it better
So no grudge here, dear Discover.

Grant the joy of discovery
To those who badly need it
Some brimming talents and brains
Lost souls seeking redemption
Or else desperately vying recognition
Addicted to sudden jubilation
That enlivens their drab writerly lives.

Do not discover me please!
Don’t drag me out of my safe haven.
I prefer my obscurity – my cozy cocoon
My followers few, define my life.
With confinement that sets me free.
No self-consciousness, no made-up style.
To be a public persona would chain me
Glaring lime-lights make me blind
Who knows? Crippling cacophony of applause
Might have drowned my muse forever.

So yes!! You’re Columbus
And I’m India and Australia
I’m sure y
ou shall never discover me
But I’ll be no less for it.

My formless senseless poem is
A final nail in the coffin (that already exists)

But if am not mad at you, WP
You better not be mad at me!

~~~ ~~~

Did that sound mean? In fact, I should really thank Word Press for…well…everything. For Word Press itself and for the inspirational bloggers.  Freshly Pressed had great posts and so has Discover.  

So no grudge, no offense meant towards anyone 🙂  If you know me by now, that’s my spontaneous style esp. as it was in my earlier posts. Humor. Satire.   

That was actually for today’s Daily Prompt by The Daily Post:

I Can’t Stay Mad at YouDo you hold grudges or do you believe in forgive and forget?”

 

Copyright © 2015 Alka Girdhar

We Are Hounds Forever

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Here are my Haiku poems for Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Challenge 50.

The words provided were ‘gain’ and ‘hound’.  My hounding brain, yielded forth some gain.


love hounds
lovers hound forever
pining love at all wrong places
gain, a wild-goose-chase

lust hounds
molesters hound forever
groping for petty physical gain
oh what sick life!

newshounds
newshounds sniff forever
hoping to gain a sassy story
beware! they may catch you

life is a hound
life hounds forever
for true happiness and joy
gain is a mirage

***

Continuing this mood, here’s a very wise quote by English poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772–1834):

Happiness is a hound dog in the sun. We are not here to be happy, but to experience great and wonderful things

So we shouldn’t perpetually try to be happy but we should look for ‘great and wonderful things’.

But Coleridge also said: “The happiness of life is made up of minute fractions – the little, soon forgotten charities of a kiss or a smile, a kind look or heartfelt compliment.”

Which means we should hound to gain ‘little’, ‘great’, ‘wonderful’ things.

Now what are these ‘little’ things that are ‘great’ and ‘wonderful’, or ‘great’ and ‘wonderful’ things that are ‘little’ and yet ‘great’?  Do you know?

~~~

Copyright © 2015 Written by Alka Girdhar

One, Two, Three!

Awesome Three

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Three Letter Words
do they not like?

But three makes sense
Things happen in threes

~~~
Divinity comes in threes…
God – The Omniscient, The Omnipresent, The Omnipotent

The Holy TrinityFather, Son, Holy Ghost
Creates, Redeems, Sustains

The Trimurti Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva
The Creator, The Preserver, The Destroyer

Buddha’s Triple GemsBuddha, Dhamma, Sangha.
The Enlightened One, His teachings, His followers

~~~

Life’s three phases
Birth, Life, Death.

Time’s three realms
Past, Present, Future.

Sin’s three types
Thought, Word, Deed

Triple shades of health
Body, Mind and Spirit

~~~

Three – Not bad
Why avoid three?

We’re often third time lucky
Count – one, two and three…

three

The farmer’s wife had cut off the tails of three blind mice with a carving knife and, see how they ran.

(In Australia,  Triple Zero (000) is the primary national emergency number. Police, Fire, Ambulance –  help yourselves…)

~~~~

© 2015 Alka Girdhar

One, Two, Three!