Archive for the year 2003:

In the Box

We feel comfortable
In the groove
The old familiar groove
Where the markings n indentations are all
Well traversed routes from times immemorial
Occasionally we have to cross the line
Venture out of this old familiar groove
Take a risk that is heady yet scary
To feel refreshed and quite invigorated
Out of this old familiar groove
The good old box is our imaginary cocoon
Self imposed, erected in self-preservation
But life will bypass Us, if we do not jump out
Of this old familiar yet very comfortable groove!

So, let’s be brave and make a move Out
Of this ever so safe n familiar groove!!!

Habit is necessary; it is the habit of having habits, of turning a trail into a rut, that must be incessantly fought against if one is to remain alive.
Edith Wharton
US novelist (1862 – 1937)

The Jinn

 The cork popped out

Whoosh went the jinn

Flying in a cloud!

Released from captivity

It danced n pranced

Releasing pent up energy

The young boy held the jar

All bright and iridescent

His pink face incandescent

The jinn bowed with a flourish

Asking the boy to make a wish

Which he heard with great relish?

He asked to go back in time

To those idyllic days of yonder

When life was fun n full of wonder

Endless lingering summers

Eternal merrymaking n frolic

No responsibilities, no tonics

The Peter Pan in him wished to endure

As growing up to him held no allure

And he continued playing games n more

Once his spirit was replete

He suddenly wished to retreat

Shedding halcyon days n all that feast

He requested the jinn for reinstatement

As he’d had his fill of all childish enjoyment

Much to his worried parent’s wonderment

Then he released the jinn unshackling him in glee

The jinn quickly flew up perching on a nearby tree

Quickly bade goodbye, excitedly flying home free!

Grown up, and that is a terribly hard thing to do. It is much easier
to skip it and go from one childhood to another.
Source Unknown

We have not passed that subtle line between childhood and adulthood
until we move from the passive voice to the active voice — that is,
until we have stopped saying ”It got lost,” and say, ”I lost it.
Sidney J. Harris
1917-, American Journalist

It is utterly false and cruelly arbitrary to put all the play and learning
into childhood, all the work into middle age, and all the regrets into old age.
Margaret Mead

 Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies. Nobody that matters, that is.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
1892-1950, American Poet

Winter Commute

Cold crisp air makes my knuckles blue

Automatically I curl up within myself

And my coat, trying to push my neck

Inwards like a tortoise, husbanding my warmth

A shiver passes rapidly like an electric current

My feet suddenly feel cold and calumny

I pull my collar close and button up tight

Hanging on to all the coziness that is to be had

Curls of wispy breaths rise and fly away

My nose turns red and is dry no more

My eyes give company and get weepy as well

My being clamors for a hot cup of anything!

The commute is long and dreary

Home seems far, far away

But it beckons invitingly as I hasten to it

Chasing my blues with a song in my heart

The Vision

A roll of thunder
A splash of color
Effervescent clouds

A heady mix
Bolts of lightening
Claps of thunder

A rainbow of colors
Rich hues of pinks
Royal purple and magenta

Background music
Singing voices
Praising and hailing

Then a vision
Awe inspiring and
Daunting n delightful

Filling to the brim
feelings of indescribable
Joy and then, peace

The Nature Of Things

Be like the fire
That burns and purifies

Be not like the water
That engulfs and drowns

Be like the fire that rises
Up and up towards the heavens

Be not like the water
That pulls you down and down

Be like the fire
That burns ego into cinders

Be not like the water
That converts ego into hard ice

Be like the fire
That aspires higher and higher

Be not like the water
That only wishes to exist

Be like the fire
That lets go of self

Be not like the water
That will keep its identity

Be like the fire
That loses self as it rises

Be not like the water
That will sink very low to be

Such is the nature of water and fire
Now choose at your own free will!

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