THESE finds from Literary Vibes edition CXXXV published on November 24, 2023…for weekend reading, poetry to read:
MONSOON DIARY: AN INCURSION UNTO SELF
By Sujata Dash
Tonight, when he comes back from the office, he will not find me.
He will search for me in every nook and corner of the house (Hope this happens), but will be disappointed.
“Darling! Where are you?”
His voice will rise slowly from soft to blaring , yet would plummet in no time. He is so used to my presence. I am his need esp when his tired self flings itself on the comfy couch and his roving glances reach precincts of kitchen where a lethal dose of happiness concocts. My magic wand with a mild dose of panacea lets him revel in bliss. A nice cup of tea and snacks does all the wonder. Munching on lip smacking assortments and licking fingers he vouchsafes -his wife prepares the best tea and there is not another like her.
He will miss me this evening for sure.
He will grab his mobile to call me but he will be caught by surprise when my telephone rings inside the house.Like a sniffer dog , he would zero in on the talking machine and snarl at it. In a fit of anger he would blast out-
” What the hell! Why couldn’t she carry her mobile? Did she forget or is the act intentional to harass me?”
Frantically, he would try to contact my friends, but to no avail.
He will get emotional first and then frenzied.
Then he would look at the big portrait of mine in bridal attire, neatly bunched to the bedroom wall while fuming and gushing out sighs.
He would throw tantrums around , especially the wet towel on the bed, after the shower.
I can visualize…I am so used to his ways. Fifteen years of married life is no joke.
But, I am keeping my fingers crossed.
This may not happen in reality.
He may not miss me at all nor carry any emotional heft for that matter.
A man’s ways you cannot gauge easily.
So, fifteen years is not enough perhaps!
He may pour him a drink or two, smoke one or two cigarettes, take a brisk walk…travel from bedroom to living room (his favourite action when he is in two minds) . Eventually, calm down like a sea without ripples, and have a goodnight’s sleep.
Reading a mind with all accuracy is too difficult a task for me.
I am not even going to try it, although I have tried this before. It is both unnerving and time consuming.
I shall let my cranium do a bit of contemplation-
“Does my absence bother him or is he afraid of my recalcitrance?
Or, the seeming growth of new feathers in my clipped wings is a matter of botheration for him!!!”
Just too much rumination, Isn’t it?
You may term this as overthinking.
The truth will take some time to come to the fore. So till such time, let me be.
The evening has just set in.
Deep darkness is yet to crop up and sync in.
Ah! This beautiful transition at twilight is worth watching. I am definitely relishing it. It is so refreshing.
Tick..tick..tick…the second hand marches on. … propelling the minute and the hour hand . Time is on its timeless sojourn. Perhaps! I am noticing the celestial event for the first time. I don’t know why I didn’t notice this before. Daily grind must be the villain. Also, “The taken for granted attitude.”
One thing is for sure …he can’t fathom my whereabouts. He has to resign to the pattern of time till I am home.
He cannot even envisage that I will be busy drenching myself thoroughly in the heavenly downpour in some corner of this universe, sinking into lethargy and bringing solace to my being.
I shall let my kohl framed eyes smudge as the small worry line between my brows fade gradually.
No makeup look is so fresh and earthy, so much like my stance today.
This badass monsoon is a welcome break from the sticky summer.
Ah! Such a quiescent feeling, akin to the mellow December nip in the air.
You may ask-
What is the need to come this far? The entire scene could have been enacted in my spacious plush bathroom.
The answer will be “just like that”
Well, If you insist further, then I will say in a nutshell –
”To feel the rain, I have come this far”
“It is heavenly”
It has been long, I indulged in such ecstasy and prattled nonstop as the raindrops trickled down my fluffy cheeks to kiss the ground , but not before soothing and comforting my enraged demeanor.
I have been cast into a mould of dusting, sweeping, scrubbing, scouring, childcare, cooking and job above all.
It is incumbent upon my ilk.
A woman has to be non-complaining, and forgiving. A thousand piercing eyes affront her if she dares to be otherwise.
There could be some aberrations but the percentile is dismal.
Well, let me not debate further nor tax my upper chamber with such dull and boring matters.
It has been ages, I freed myself from a cage of self imposed exile, sipped ginger tea from roadside vendors. The lingering aroma of the hot beverage wafts through nostrils to titillate my waking moments. I am so much reminded of the giggles and belly laughter that childhood with pals offered. Especially munching on street food.
The two amateurs -my mind and soul are in tandem today it seems !
When they have concocted such a limpid plan to enthral my core…how can I refuse?
I am doing justice to each bit of my desire- ‘smile effortlessly and cry a bit.’
It is not peremptory upon me anymore to hide the cathartic fluid.
To be honest, I have not shed any since eons, though I am a woman. This tribe is adept at the exercise of ‘hiding’.
Today if they ooze out, they will delineate oodles of supreme pleasure as I wimple softly in the flow.
I don’t mean there has been no grief, misery or misdemeanor in my life having lived this long.
I am not a liar at least.
Fretting worries are well perched in my life like any other mortal’s.
They pinch, hurt and put my nimble soul into shards at regular intervals. But, I have outgrown sobs, muffled moans, and stopped being hysterical.
I have grown wise by letting go of the negativities of life. A subtle cheer from the cusp of forgiveness embraces my being. I have forgiven myself for being naive this long.
IT TOOK ME YEARS TO DELVE DEEP INSIDE AND FIND MY RESILIENCE, STRENGTH AND TENACITY, THAT I WAS NOT AWARE OF TILL DATE.
I swear, I don’t want to demean anyone by such a statement. The above are just spontaneous outpourings erupting like molten lava from stony silence.
Many eyebrows will be raised, many hard eyes will be popping out when I reach home late or very late. Even the security guard at the gate will behold me with disbelief. But who cares! I shall remain unapologetic. Let their wobbly opinions bubble up then dissolve.
I am no longer a woman denied desires.
Rather, I am an embodiment of lilting verses of life, capable of choosing my own preferences.
A tingling anticipation, a heady excitement runs through me with alacrity, makes me feel like a teenager.
From restless ocean to a calm shore, I have lived and savoured each bit of this short and sweet sojourn!
A haze of amazement now embraces me.
An amusing novelty cadences a big broad smile.
Looks like the metaphoric ‘dawn’ is not far off.
(Sujata Dash is a poet from Bhubaneswar, Odisha. She is a retired banker. She has three published poetry anthologies: More than Mere – a bunch of poems, Riot of Hues and Eternal Rhythm by Authorspress to her credit. She is a singer, avid lover of nature. She regularly contributes to anthologies worldwide.)
STAR STRUCK
By Sreekumar T V
The star bug was into me right from childhood. For reasons I adored the ones that appeared on the big screen and watched with wonder their actions on screen and the urge to become one among them was stimulated. It became a dream, a passion an ambition and a destination in life. It grew with time and became a weakness embedded into me so strongly that there was no escape from the thought. The intensity increased with time and all who could identify my madness said that I will turn out to be an actor one day.
It was but natural that I started mimicking the popular stars of the day and it became a hit with friends. During school interval and spare time friends surrounded me with requests and there all clapping and encouraging my performance. The news of my talent spread and my class teacher once asked me to perform in class. That was the take-off and mimicry became a part of school entertainment occasionally. It was my passport into acting and come school annual day was fortunate to have a short role in a drama.
The feeling of being an actor crept into me from then. Some days I became Shammi Kapoor and shifted to Shashi Kapoor and also Dharmendra and Dev Anand also I became. This star phobia affected my studies and my grades took a downward dip almost crash landing. High school results proved it and when all got through, I stood as the only failure, failing myself and also bringing down the reputation of the school where it was always centum for years.
“You keep on dancing and singing” was the sarcastic comments heard. All who were my friends distanced with my failure in academics. Parents were highly disappointed.
What next? That was a million-dollar question. The actor in me was pushing and it struck. A career in acting is what was destined for me and I will have to try hard. Hard I tried meeting people connected in the field and one look many said “Go and study boy”.
I wanted to tear myself open and show them my heart, my depth of passion towards acting but they never gave a second look. It was so disappointing and after months of struggle pleading and even going to the extent of running errands for a film related team, they obliged to give me a chance. Excited beyond words I could not sleep for days and finally I was called for the performance. Expecting a makeup done I asked about it.
“No need “was the reply “You are to go and just push a boy and it will hardly last for a second”
One second performance and it was almost a slap. My face also never came up in the movie as it was a shot from behind. Adding insult to injury I was paid Rs 5. Though the amount was not much I treasured it as it was my first earning.
“Go to Madras. That’s where all the happening is,” said my friend who sincerely wanted me to achieve.
With borrowed money I was off to Madras. Not knowing anyone in the field it was literally begging from one studio to another and rebuff and insults from all places. Almost a month in Madras and fortune strikes. A short role as a college student. Excitement at its peak and disappointment on shooting day. I was one of the students among many. No turning back as small steps lead to bigger ones. In the shot the other students all hostel inmates tease me for a habit of mine at that age which I feel ashamed to mention. I was to be the laughing stock of all and it was an embarrassing role. Whatever I was proud to be a part of a movie and felt the actor in me evolving.
Movie released and news got around in my place that I had acted in it. Walked around in flashy dress to conceal the struggles in Madras. My village people some had recognized me in the movie and I fed them with tales big about the happenings and also bragged about mingling with the big stars of the day.
A week after the release I was walking along the road and a group of girls were giggling seeing me. The proud actor in me awoke as I was certain they recognized me, the star. They certain to compliment me,the actor was my thought. I approached them and their first question was a stab hard and painful.
“Do you still pee on bed”?
The character I had played had this habit and teased by other students for it in the movie.
They were not complimenting but teasing me for it and giggling.
I felt so ashamed of myself and wished the vanishing trick was in my hand. They asked me in a way they believed that I was into the habit in real life too. Avoided answering and walked away and I could hear them shouting to another gang nearby
“That fellow so grown up still wets his bed”
The belief that I had achieved something with great difficulty was crumbling then and there. The small height I had scaled was sliding down. I was feeling very uncomfortable and my body became weak and felt drained of energy.
I wanted to pee.
(T V Sreekumar is a retired engineer stationed at Pondicherry with a passion for writing. He was a blogger with Sulekha for over 15 years and a regular contributor writing under the name Suchisree Sreekumar. Some of his stories were published in Women’s Era. “The Hindu” had also published some of his writings on its Open Page.)
BED REST
By Hema Ravi
Mind and body were at loggerheads.
Heads, you win! said Mind.
Want to know the score?
Stop throwing medium-pace, spin and bouncers, body screamed, raging at hundred and three.
You’ve a free ticket to travel anywhere at will,
The toll tax is always upon me,
Body continued the tirade. At a distance, an ambulance siren screamed long and loud.
A feeble voice uttered: Rest, some rest!
(Hema Ravi is a poet, author, reviewer, editor (Efflorescence), independent researcher and resource person for language development courses… Her writings have been featured in several online and international print journals, notable among them being Metverse Muse, Amaravati Poetic Prism, International Writers Journal (USA), Culture and Quest (ISISAR), Setu Bilingual, INNSAEI journal and Science Shore Magazine. Her write ups and poems have won prizes in competitions. She is the recipient of the Distinguished Writer International Award for excellence in Literature for securing the ninth place in the 7th Bharat Award, conducted by www.poesisonline.com. In addition, she has been awarded a ‘Certificate of Appreciation’ for her literary contributions by the Gujarat Sahitya Academy and Motivational Strips on the occasion of the 74th Independence Day (2020) and again. conferred with the ‘Order of Shakespeare Medal’ for her writing merit conforming to global standards.(2021). She is the recipient of cash prizes from the Pratilipi group, having secured the fourth place in the Radio Romeo Contest (2021), the sixth place in the Retelling of Fairy Tales (2021), the first prize in the Word Cloud competition (2020) and in the Children’s Day Special Contest (2020). She scripted, edited, and presented radio lessons on the Kalpakkam Community Radio titled ‘Everyday English with Hema,’ (2020) a series of lessons for learners to hone their language skills. Science Shore Magazine has been featuring her visual audios titled ‘English Errors of Indian Students.’
A brief stint in the Central government, then as a teacher of English and Hindi for over two decades, Hema Ravi is currently freelancer for IELTS and Communicative English. With students ranging from 4 to 70, Hema is at ease with any age group, pursues her career and passion with great ease and comfort. As the Secretary of the Chennai Poets’ Circle, Chennai, she empowers the young and the not so young to unleash their creative potential efficiently.)
BIRTHDAY THOUGHT
By Anjali Sahoo
One more smile,
One more adieu,
Along the fog,
Sunshine and dew;
Time looks like a
Double swing door,
Years just get in,
But, no return-roar!
(Anjali Sahoo writes poems both in English and Odia. Her first poetry book A Tryst with Thunder (2021), published by Authors Press, New Delhi, sheds light upon manifold aspects of life. They take the readers to the world of imaginative vibrancy, unearthing hidden mysteries of the world. Her published works include three poetry books and two short stories collections in Odia.)
WOMAN –HER UNIQUE TOUCH WITH EMOTIONS
By Dr Thirupurasundari C J
SHE baffles every time,
May be an enigma never solved?
SHE, a fantasy!
SHE, a reality!
Life’s ebbs and flows,
Beautifully SHE embraces,
With a smile on her lips,
SHE illuminates.
Some scars make her nights dark,
Bruises to mend,
Tears and fears to prevail over,
Thoughts so temperamental,
Yet, SHE wins over depression,
Soaring high ferociously like an eagle,
SHE fights the battle every day.
Love doesn’t come back like a boomerang always,
Unrequited love is bittersweet,
For love’s resilience knows no bounds or fears,
SHE has been entrusted,
SHE is a mess-some days,
Some define her with words,
Some words choke her brain,
Some thoughts leave an excruciating pain,
Yet ready to explore,
The labyrinth of life’s roads and passages,
Her fortitude blooms,
Celebrating the goodness within,
With her integrity and compassion,
SHE never disappoints,
With gems to thrive,
SHE dares to fly with a positive attitude every time.
The artist in her,
SHE paints all over her canvas of life,
Pouring her heart into colours,
SHE detaches from the things and people that exhaust her,
Irons the wrinkles, buckles up,
Awakening the transformation within,
Rays of hope radiate in her art,
With a gleam in her eyes,
SHE dances with gaiety,
Emanates a better version of her,
SHE has the power within.
(A cheerful Biochemist and Molecular Biologist, Dr. Thirupurasundari C J (Dazzle) has a university rank and gold medal in her Bachelors and Masters respectively. She started her research and teaching experience at a Diabetes Research Hospital. She is recognised as someone who teaches with passion. She took this ethos to a school and also excelled as an Assistant Professor at a reputed University, Chennai, and then for a brief stint at the Vector Control Research Centre, Puducherry. She has PG diplomas in Bioinformatics, Clinical Research and Patent Rights. She has published her research findings in peer-reviewed journals. Cancer, Diabetes and Horticulture are the fields, she has traversed. The last of which was put to use at the Indian Institute of Horticultural Research. Her other passions include yoga, sudoku, poetry, sketching, gardening and experimenting with new cuisines.
Besides being a science content writer, an editor for the “Science Shore” e-zine, she has published her oeuvres in Bangalore Poetry Circle, Adisakrit, Positive vibes, Chennai Poets’ Circle, Indian Periodicals, International Writers Journal, Inner Child Press International, INNSAEI, Spillwords and other anthology groups. Her oeuvres are also available on literary platforms like TechTouch talk, Cultural reverence, Namaste India, Muse India-Your Space, Story mirror and others.)
PRICELESS CONNECTION
By Bijayalaxmi Rath
Love ?? stepped slowly to my life’s window with the glorious glamour of milky pearly moon beam.
Weaving desires of pleasure, pampered my droopy eyes with kaleidoscopic pieces of dreams.
Syllables of fragrant love waved he to my lonely ears.
Drenched my dry lips with his luscious buttery bites.
Tingling fingers in my messy mane engaged creating ripples of passion.
Warm tender movement on my tired listless body l enjoyed.
Started I possessing him more and more.
Merged we to the sedated silence typing
Promise with our radiating eyes.
Wounds of soul, bruises of heart stopped oozing blood.
Our embellished dreams laced with passionate passion turned to a bondage of
Pristine whole.
From a distant silhouette to a bundle of cuddle he became.
Stary heaven sensed l in a velvety pattern.
Basking to the warmth of his body and aroma of his breath , layer after layer opened my existence.
Our loving sweet union miraculously bloomed to a pink rose waltzing to the tinge of purple.
I changed from a silent survivor to a free wild dandelion.
Life started murmuring and nodding to the cozy affair .
My love ?? sans possession turned my life’s art and composition.
The priceless connection.
OWN SILENT WAY
By Bijayalaxmi Rath
Own skeleton l love.
Fascination of ‘I’ by ‘me’.
Shading aside the unnecessary beautiful burdens l relax.
Real listless lustre a perfect transparency,
I love to synchronise.
Sonata of moon unreveals the arrival of foggy winter.
Love the white mystery.
Cool, drowsy, droppy tingling sensation for body and soul.
Warmth, a heavy unbearable burden.
I bare to encapsulate and absorb the quivering foggy.
Trembling to my existence l enrich own story on earth.
No more demand of spring.
Germination followed by hibernation is a definite truth.
Waiting anxiously for a cosmic spark to burn and mingle as ash in my own silent way.
(Bijayalaxmi Rath has done her masters in English from Utkal University Odisha. Works as PGT English St Xavier International school Bhubaneswar. Multilingual poetess writes in English Hindi and Odia. Published in different anthologies like Durga, Rainbow of Eastern Sky’, Toshali etc. Bagged Gujarat Sahitya Academy award, Rabindra Nath Tagore award etc.)
Raghuram Rajan, former Chairman of Reserve Bank of India, writes:
Today’s India is a garland of flowers in the hands of a “monkey.”
I am neither a congressman nor a Communist nor a Modi bhakt.
I am only an ordinary citizen who loves my country.
In the last 70 years, India, irrespective of caste and creed, has progressed greatly. For this, all the Prime Ministers who ruled India have worked day and night. The result is that today, India is a great power in the world.
Before Modiji was born, India had won the war against Pakistan. Even before Modiji started speaking, India had the best Constitution in the world.
When Modiji played the game of bajra and kolam, India built the Bhakra Nangal Canal.
India opened the Nuclear Research Centre while flipping through the book “Modiji” in school…
When Modiji was learning to light a lamp, India started the Tarapur Nuclear Power Plant.
Even before Modiji got dressed, they had started weaving cloth in India.
AIIMS, IIT, and many other universities were started in India.
Modiji was selling tea when trains like Rajdhani Express were running fast.
How many benefits has India seen? All the benefits have already been accomplished.
Still others believe or try to believe that everything happened because of Modi in the last four years!!! In fact, “Modiji” has taken India back by 40 years in four years.
In the line of those who stood hand in hand to create a casteless, communally harmonious India,
Modi came as a casteist in his head.
For the sake of our children, so that our children do not fight with each other, may our children in future also enjoy the freedom our forefathers enjoyed.
(https://twitter.com/pitchaijohn1961/status/1673511701147430912?t=wNXFk4NGBv_5TidbTPqGyQ&s=08)