Ode to the Beautiful

Dear Beautiful,

I am,

in love with

the wrinkles at the edge of your eyes, that speaks of

"the million laughs you had,"

in love with

the cracks on your heels, that chronicles 

"the rough road you have mastered,"

in love with

your withered hands, that defend you who is too kind to speak up

"of how you have cared for someone more than yourself,"

in love with

your exquisite soul, that has grown graceful with each strand of grey hair.

P.S. To all the children out there:

Remember,

Every wrinkle and scar our parents bear is a mark of their unconditional love. 

With You, I've learned, 

Some beautiful things in life,

cannot be touched,

but felt,

cannot be possessed,

but cherished. 

You turned my life into

a garden of maple trees

You showed me hues

I have never seen before

You tuned my ears to symphonies 

played by wind nymphs

You made me believe 

in the magic of the world

So,

I know, one day

even if I have to let you go

like any shedded maple leaf

You will always stay to be 

my colourful memory

Unrequited Love

He came into my life when I was 10 years old. 
Back then I always role played the part of a very stringent teacher who beat him up with a broken twig for being my naughty, zero-digit IQ student. He always accepted my blows without a pinge of resistance.
Whenever sorrow pervaded my heart I ran to him to cry my heart out, narrating my tragic tales inbetween tearful gasps. He was a great listener.
When cousins came home, he became a part of our childhood games and pranks.
During my high school days, I used to sit beside him and mugged up bulky textbooks because his presence was quite soothing and comfy. 
He always expressed his love by bringing home a basket full of guavas, both ripe, unripe and some pecked by birds or squirrels. 
He grew up with me, caressed me with his gentle strokes and even feed me but I always took him for granted.
Years later, when I returned home after my postgraduation days, I had a pile of stories to narrate to him so I playfully strolled down my front yard to find him. But he was no longer there. I wanted to run to my parents and ask them what had happened but I knew whatever might be the reason,he won't be there anymore. I felt so lonely and heavy at heart. I fell down on my knees and longed for my guava tree.
Whom, I have never watered, yet grew tall for me.
Whom, I have never caressed, yet protected me from heat and rain.
Whom, I have never fed with any nutrients, yet had always bore me fruits.
Whom, I have never consoled when people tried to cut down its branches, yet was always there to soothe me with its gentle musical notes as the breeze swayed its leaves. 
For the first time tears welled up in my eyes in the thought of him and it rolled down my cheeks and touched the soil. With a blurry eyes I saw a faintly sprouting sapling, the part of him that he had left behind for me. And in the tiny sprouting life I saw his unconditional love for me. 
Emotions created a calamity inside my heart and that's when I promised to love this little creature just the way he loved me.
P.S: Love others when they are with you.
       Love like the mother nature that always gives and never asks for.
       Value life (both human and nature) even if they don't demand it from you.

LOVE

The one and only one feeling of

Losing

One’s
Veiled

Ego 
is love.

The Haunted House

Have you ever had a next door abandoned house encircling which there were thousands of fabricated stories that fed your childhood nightmares. Well then, I had one next to mine. It was a big house, quite big for its forlorn inhabitants, the tiny insects and the birds that perched its nest right beneath the over arched roofs. The outgrown vegetation added to its horrific splendour. But everything about it changed on the day when a bunch of people arrived in a white Scorpio car and started living in that haunted house. Like me everyone else in the village were curious to know about them as they had the extraordinary guts to live in that long-gossiped haunted house. But the more we awaited, the less we heard from them. Mostly they sticked to their house and if at all they had to leave the house they traveled around in the white Scorpio with raised windows. I badly regret these days that have put off the practice of visiting the neighbours for a chat over a cup of tea and have adopted the fancy business of texting each other. Half of the youngsters don't even dare to get out on their yards to feel the fresh blow of air against their skin, at least then there was a possibility of neighbours accidentally meeting each other. But like me, most of them in my locality loved to stick on to the cosy-comfort of their cramped-in rooms except for the 3 kids who lived 2 houses away from mine. They were actually forced by their parents to stay within the house though they loved playing outside. So one day, three of them walked into my house and summoned me to accompany them to this strange house. It was their secret mission to unearth the mystery entangling the house, but fear overdid them and so they wanted me for a support. I quietly followed them but was quite confused about the way the neighbours would receive us. Would they feel like the kids were playing a trick on them, after all it was fine being a kid and doing nasty things but I was the 'grown up'. I started knocking out my head thinking for an excuse. But the sudden 'shh' sound startled me from my train of thoughts. The kids were being creepy and began walking stealthily, I realised that they had no plans to walk into the house. Further I was reassured with the bolted doors and locked gate. There was also no possibility for a sneak attack as the fence was quite giant. I thanked God for deserting the place for the time being but later regretted for having missed my only chance. Time flew away like wind and the only acquaintance for my new-born neighbour in our village turned out to be the tea-cum-groceries shop owner, half a mile down the street where the father figure of the haunted house frequented to buy some household goods. Taking credits of befriending the man of the mysterious house, the shop keeper enunciated the details of the family members which included, the man, his wife and their 2 daughters. They have come from abroad and the kids have been studying in some boarding school far away. Everything seemed quite normal about the family that people lost interest in them. Things went on as usual except for the mid of July that had welcomed barrels and barrels of rain. It rained cats and dogs for a couple of days that the streets were on water. The kids had no school and their cries could be heard aloud. Life became quite stagnant on the economic side but the streets were filled with it. When the rain reduced its pace, people gathered together to watch the flood, or to chop the fallen trees that blocked their way or to fix  the electric lines. A bunch of adventurous people began swimming in the overflown lake and I was on the street watching the water flow across me, knee length. Suddenly a huge man in shorts walked towards me with a smile on his face. I could hardly recognise him as my acquaintance and that's when my father spoke from behind, "you might be our next door neighbour ". With a nod he introduced himself and with a few minutes talk he invited us home. He was on his way to the groceries store. The flood had prevented him from driving and has drained him off the household necessities. Thus a flood helped me befriend my neighbour. So, sometimes I think of flood as a good connector of people. At least this episode has made me rethink about cursing it for all the vicious things it has done so far.

TRUST

Trust is when you are put in an extremely dangerous situation and you choose to Believe.

When my 8 year old cousin was learning to ride bicycle she would only let my Papa balance her from behind. Rest of us, she simply distrusted and wouldn't even let near her cycle. So, one day her envious brother screamed out loud,"Hey look, even Reji uncle is not holding you but just running behind you". Those words banged in our ears  like thunder and we all stood dumbstruck as it was quite enough to flinch her off the cycle. But riding down the lane for the first time she yelled back, "But I know he wouldn't let me get hurt".