When it rained

The fields would sway to the wind
the children in trains waving back.

The tides would get back their surf
the farmers too engrossed in work.

When the rains hit us days on it made pools of watery slush.

The mud would entrance the kids who would make pots with the clay.

The sun would peep in on the dew
so the grass could retain the shine.

The grasshoppers would jump in joy
crickets playing the game of life.

The butterflies were very choosy
as to which flower they would sit.

This made it difficult for us to catch
by reading their minds in tiny heads.

Advertisements

Rain Series

A group of clouds came from nowhere
filled with water, they turned to a shower
it is rainy days here again, remarked some
kids left their games and did a rain dance
whatever was left to dry now taken inside
whatever needed to be wet was put outside
the rain drenched and washed the stench
bringing its own perfume that was earthen.

The clouds could now be seen fast receding
a child looked up to see them now flying away
what other task you have, to go soon so fast
please stay and pour some more water on us
to our hearts fill and to fill our pots and wells
No dear, we have other places to water well
and we better not be late, whispered the cloud
as he sped away to catch up with the others…

Making of a Guru

The wind wound up its path and made a detour
only to face poor me and accord a warm welcome
The canoe in which I was seated, wobbled slightly
not sure of how it would handle the shallow rocks.

The dried up lake seemed to end all of a sudden
its path cut off by a long line of rounded rocks
the jarring made by the canoe prompted me
to desert it, having reached new found land.

The jump into the slush was a rough landing
I made my way to the parched land, with cattle
looking at me, an intruder to their grazing fields
dried as it was, I wondered on what they fed.

I could see a pall of smoke rising from a few huts
the distance to it was still far for my tired legs
A tree came into view with a few stones around
I decided to sit for some time to rest myself.

I sat in a trance, and I knew not, how time passed
My beard and dress and long hair gave me a look
of a saintly man, though I had fled away from sins
The only option was now to make a new beginning.

When I opened my eyes, I could see a few men
waiting for me to open my dried eyes and behold
what miracles I could perform for them, a poor lot
was what I thought, as they prostrated themselves.

I smiled at them and that lit up their eyes and ears
for they wanted me to perform and speak words
only the wise could speak, with souls enlightened
could they follow me, is what came to mind first.

The words flowed from them, and was I thrilled
to understand, and when I spoke, they listened
for they thought I was a savior sent by the Lord
to heal their wounds of despair and woes of life.

They seemed to have everything in plenty but not
in bounty, was rain that made the land parched
them having to walk the distance to the water
where I made my descend a few hours away.

They offered fruits and water and was I thankful
when providence and attention was riveted upon
poor me, who was a fugitive all these months
having got into fights and theft before I could rest.

I waved them off, tired to smile back at every them
listening to murmurs and pleas from elderly folks
they having crowded so close to look at me,
a specimen who spent solitary years in a cell.

The next day the people went about their tasks
some huddled in front of me, a welcome guest
who they thought would bring them benefits,
if only I knew, glory was to bestowed upon me.

A spade lying across was now gleaming at me
asking as if to get up and make its life meaningful
it is when I thought I could make mine too with it
having decided to bring the river to this village.

When I started work, amused kids joined the fray
villagers were not left behind lest I cursed them
for not joining the holy activity and before long
a pond and a canal was dug with no water to feed.

I looked up at the sky, there was no cloud in sight
If only, I wished, it rained, the weather so ripe
I managed to set up a prayer and a feast for all
joining to get divine help for the parched land.

The collective group prayed with me for days
waiting for a miracle to happen with me in tow
getting tired and with faint hopes diminishing
by the hour, my divinity was put to the test.

I did not lose hope and worked on the pond
with collective hopes getting faded by the day
a few people now dismissed me as a mad man
who knew nothing but to dig his own grave.

The flow of flowers and the fruits dried up on me
as I meditated upon nature, to provide the bounty
not riches, but pure water only could it provide to
make the land and my new life worthwhile.

One day, it did rain, when we were least prepared
the flowing water filled the canal and wet the pond
the next day, with tidings came the river gushing
plenty, it filled the mighty pond as did our hearts.

These days, I am a Guru, giving my blessings to all
from poor folk to rich ones, from near and afar
and what better person could teach them than me,
a fugitive, who had learnt to live life the better way…

Blessings

Accumulate blessings not riches
dear love not desperate hate
sweet knowledge not sour ignorance
know yourself not about others.

Know well your nature to correct it
for we all have grey lines of fault
some seldom may point these out
some biding to take advantage of it.

These very flaws minute as they seem
take away our right to dear places
we could have so well reached
for time is a precious commodity
that can seldom be bartered.

Pure thyself by chanting His name
clothe your selves with His stories
illuminate thy self with his glory
when time is ripe for angels to arrive
be the lamp among the lost crowd.

As they take you undisturbed
to a place of peace you barely knew
with gained blessings on your crown
you chance upon His mighty throne
at His tender feet by His loving side.

Where no sorrows can abound
only carefree birds that chirp
the lovely scrolls of your Life
that got etched as you well lived
in times, good, bad and sad.

For each of us has limited time
so as you run around to make a mark
let the mark of blessing be upon you
leave no stone to accumulate it
for in the end it is all what matters.

To Him who holds store of good things
of blessings distributed to the needy
May you add to His cherished stock
as you reach him safe and sound
the ultimate heights you asked for.

Blogger Recognition Award

Blogger

I am so happy to receive this award from Krishna. Krishnapriya as I know her from her writings is one who is always thinking of the divine supreme and considers all living beings as one having the same divinity. Such noble thoughts are glorified through her poems and posts. She has also some excellent translation achievements on some of the original Sanskrit works which is the reason for me being an ardent follower of her blog in the first place.

Please check her blog: Light + Love

 My Blogging Journey

 I started blogging on WordPress in 2012 and my posts were few and far in between. I like to read more than to write and these were my only hobbies in school days. In college I didn’t write much maybe a couple of poems here and there as singing became a newly acquired hobby and then once having started to work, all this was forgotten for decades…

It was in 2012 that I started thinking of coming back to writing sessions and jumped to the WordPress bandwagon and has enjoyed my stay here ever since. I am an introvert by nature and an adhoc writer. Sometimes it could be a frame from a movie, a picture or a fleeting thought that inspires me or gives me an idea to churn it into a post. But most of the time I don’t and that is the reason I still write a couple of posts in a month. I like creative writing and mostly a short story or a poem is what you will find on Perceptions. These posts also stem  from my observations in day to day life…

WordPress also helps to connect to many other bloggers who share our reading/writing interests and help form a community of closely knit followers who regularly check upon your work and put in a comment or a like. This is what inspires, I guess most of us to write more, at least this is what works for me.

Advice for New Bloggers

 My advice for people who want to start a blog of their own would be write on things you like and would want to share with the online community. You should not start on a high note like as in a sprint and then burn up soon. I have seen people who churn out posts more frequently and get tired when they lack the initial inspiration and motivation and give up. So not only the content but how you space it is also important. Write original content and carve a niche of your own. Proof reading your work is also important before you hit the publish button 🙂

Also you need to read posts written by others., follow whom you like to get your own set of followers. You can put relevant tags in the posts that you write so that it reaches a wider audience and same way you can add tags in your reader on topics that you would want to read.

I do follow a lot of wonderful people here on WordPress and I have a voracious appetite to read at least 20 to 30 posts on a day and maybe 50  plus on a weekend. By reading as many posts of a new blogger I come across, I do try to get an insight into the mind of the writer.

In my initial days on the internet in the late 90’s I had a few pen friends and with whom I am still connected… Similarly, I would like to remember each one of you whom I follow and your writings for a long time to come.

Thanks are also due to my other followers  who have been kind enough to have bestowed similar awards to me and I am sorry I could not acknowledge them in a formal post such as this.

Blogger Nominations

As long as you churn out good content which is useful and pen your thoughts and your creative hobbies that is useful to others, I think that is what makes you a good writer and definitely the awards and accolades would follow. I am sure  some of you who read this, take upon themselves to write a post that describes your blogging journey, your likes in life and your advice to new bloggers..

Thank you once more dear Krishna  for nominating me.

 

 

 

The Indian Summer

English: Indian Summer
English: Indian Summer (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

A cackle of geese far receding
as if trying to escape the hot
wind that rushes upon them
is now let loose over the arid
plains now devoid of water.

With lips parched and shriveled skin
every now and then, a farmer
with a sweating brow looks
up to the sky to deliver for he
cannot bear the earthly pangs.

On the lookout to wet their thirst
Hark, they say, is it thunder?
whenever they hear large sounds
in the distance that turn out to
be a mirage as the birds arrive.

It is the Indian summer no doubt
conditions dreaded by many a traveler
as it seldom leaves you from clutches
that are humid and hot as you cry
and pray for the monsoon to arrive.

Reach to the Poor

Pravin and Raju were friends since college days. They used to play not only lots of cricket at a nearby playground in their locality but also a lot of naughty pranks at others, such much so, that most people used to avoid them whenever they saw them coming their way. Though the general perception about them was so, there was no doubt they were good at heart. Pravin having the rare O-ve blood group was always a call away in emergencies that required his blood group, and many a time he was disturbed from his sleep by someone who was referred to his house in such cases. Raju never lost an opportunity to help the old and infirm. He was a bit short tempered but used to laugh uncontrollably at himself when someone pointed out his mistake. Pravin was always smiling when you met him and it seemed he had a solution to every problem that his visitor had, in his welcome smile.

After college, both decided to set up shops in the nearby town center, a distance of a kilometer walk from their homes. Raju set up a medical shop with his DPharm License and Pravin a Grocery shop next to it. Though both shops were not that expansive, it seemed it had everything any buyer would want when they started frequenting these shops. There were a few as I said who stayed shy away from these two shops and the owners wondering what new pranks they would play on them during their visits.

They had a fair share of critics and cynics who were not happy about how they had settled themselves in life since their earlier predictions about the duo had gone haywire and also wary about what and how they sold. This was one of the topics of the so called group who whiled away their time in the shade of a poor banyan tree who could not but help listen to all their negative conversations.

It was not that there were no other grocery and medical shops in the town and our PR brothers knew it would take some time for consumers to come to their shops from afar. Knowing that the local community would not fail them, they reposed their faith and trust in their businesses and got going. Both had stocked only the bare necessities in their shops since they did not have a big capital while starting their ventures. Having studied the buying habits of the people in their place by frequenting the other shops, whatever they had on their shelves they could sell fast.

One evening on a dark night when Pravin was about to close for the day and down the shutters of his shop while calling out to Raju to do the same, an old woman came up to him asking for a kilogram of rice and half a kilo of tur dal. She was perhaps over seventy with wrinkles adorning her features with a stick in hand. She looked at peace with herself and yet so out of place in the middle class locality. Pravin was wondering where he had seen her and it was then a fragile piece of memory dawned upon him. She lived in a small house with her daughter in law, her son having passed away a couple of years back near the playground. He had gone into their small courtyard once to retrieve the cricket ball that Raju had struck for a Sixer. She, her daughter and her granddaughter subsisted on a pension that amounted to a meager 2000 rupees as per the all knowing banyan tree group.

Son, should I go back or will you be kind on this old woman in the dark“, she said with a smile mirroring Pravin’s smile. Oh Dadi! how could I be so cruel to have turned away such a beautiful woman away from my shop, was the instant reply that came out from Pravin. Old habits die hard, he muttered as he bit his tongue. How is your granddaughter doing? “Oh, she is not keeping well, down with fever since yesterday. Only when I wanted to prepare some gruel for them was when I came to know there were no provisions at home to prepare one”, with a chuckle came her reply. Gita is also sick since morning otherwise she would have come for this.

Hey Raju, don’t close your shop yet. There is a customer for you. “Dadi do you have some medicine for their ailment or should you need one, you can ask Raju here for one, he is dying to help people recover their lost health”. As Pravin gave the packed rice and dal in her cloth bag in the dim candle light, he waited for her to pay him. She took out her small purse which had a few small denomination rupee notes and quite a lot of coins… In the dim light, since the electricity was out just as as the old lady had reached the place, she was taking a bit of time counting the notes to pay a smiling and observant Pravin. Raju having heard the conversation had come with a strip of Paracetamol and he looked to Pravin with a twinkle in his eyes.

It is okay Dadi if you don’t have enough money to pay us now. You should hurry as I sense rain some minutes away from here, and we don’t want you too, to fall sick. “It is okay sons”, she said, “I think I should have enough money to pay you” as she went on counting her notes and coins to make it tally…

What Dadi? how can your counting tally since each time you are dropping a few notes and coins, as Raju sat down and picked up a few notes and a couple of coins and gave it to her. “That is so kind of you son to have noted it and helped this old lady. I am a bit nervous and hence fidgety with my fingers”. When Raju counted back the money and handed over to Pravin his share and took another 10 rupees for his Paracetamol strip, there were a couple of notes given back to the woman, saying this time also, your counting was wrong. “Come we will give you company, give me the bag, it will be heavy for you”, said Pravin, as the trio traced their steps to her house. Would you want a cup of tea here before you reach your homes was her parting remark. Don’t bother Dadi, some other time, said they, in a single voice and waited outside till she had entered her house.

Raju you were quick to switch off the light, in fact I think you saw her before me. What is our gain today, remarked a laughing Pravin, Well, she got fifty five rupees from me, said Raju. Hmm, and half a kilo more of gram and rice from me. Each patted the other on the back as they walked back, contented towards their homes. Their well devised prank and well rehearsed reach to the poor, who counted their meager store of money in the dim light had worked out well, this time too…