So much chaos within a moment
Spent in mono,dia & sometimes trialogues
What is good,better or best
Soundlessly sneaks out th rogue
Leaving the fretting, fuming & more
Keening heart with restlessness
Sinking into subdued torpor
Bind the shackl’d to the harness
Check the unreined! Faraway it gallops!
Tether the strain or you’ll strain the tether.
You delve in its whys and wherefores
Seeking answers if not the joys from it
Indecisions burden it as the clock keeps score
Burning & turning & roiling on the spit
Were you searching a better instant in a morrow?
For now is the future you waited for yesterday
There’s just so much further time to borrow
Do, please do- when sun shines make hay!
Einstein’d vouch; the time is relative
Be in the moment & the moment You’ll Be.
An Ode to the Drawer
Oh wrench away from world, oh do
Bring close the head, Word- it’s keypad
There’s loads of work to do
Study the table bare and lonesome
Cleaned free of dusty thoughts
A single one lurks behind the modem
That won’t do, won’t give, won’t take, Ha!
All business of ideas fall flat on surface
Oh where, oh where is my moment of ‘Aha’?
The knobs wobble when you open or close
We keep clean in our home
Even if some nuts are on loose.
The teak brown sheen’s of fresh varnish
A white ear of paper peeks out of turn. Out!
With it! How thoughtlessly you all vanish!
Drawn by the drawer, I pull it to me. Whee!
Like errant children hiding behind others back
They seek, implore sweet release of me.
Oh what mayhem Pandora kept!
Let it trickle slow, some now
My little chamber of secrets.
What use the arm you say?
Ah! the charm of the arm t’ xplain by half ain’t that banal. Beauty resides with duty at command at the press of a thought or finger; For, look down the smooth route o’erhanging your hard shoulder! The thick, earthy deltas of yer five fingers like iambic pentametres, they pierce the ether at their ethereal ends. Such delicacy to a sight it gives, might not I seek some for the palate to savour? With one arm you wield this delicious magic, with the other caress my curly tress while my back I rest. As I lay… and also claim you in total–fingers, arms and all.
The Human Song Stretching the self across that green stretch In a land illumined by words and chants Pure air with peace and learning enmesh Such a place have I been in past; Where Minding the Gods with meditative minds Lulling the deities with the tinkle of temple bells Raising hands only to greet & give a word so kind Where every soul was kindred & a bard so soulful An upturned dinner plate & spoon to bang in a tune Catching someone’s laughter while heart went joyful And the flowers absorbed a hum from the air in June It’s the ‘human’ song cried the bee without care Rich were they; ignorance of the richness was bliss Till such a time when they saw factories or the tin tinning till Sea, land, or sky is the limit and business is all you see Human sits agape and men hold the courtly court.
I like Keki N Daruwala’s writing. He is a national award winner poet and short story writer from India. I find his writing very sensitive and honest. Here is one called ‘Underwater Notes’. Hope you’ll like it too.
(On revisiting a dream)
I am alone in the house.
It is warm
but I feel cold.
The doors swing open across the years.
For someone who has no ancestral home,
who doesn’t have
the long shadow of the past
to ruffle his hair,
homecoming gets distorted.
Time squints, space wobbles
and the visit, encoded as it is,
It is cold,
the windows are frost-smudged.
Counsel yourself, there’s no one
else to do it.
remain dented where they are.
Let wind erode them, or time –
they are warp and weft of all erosion.
Come out of the house and write
(not hieroglyphs this time!)
It is cold.
Frost has smudged the windows.
Your hair is grey as hoarfrost.
A rundown house,
is a desolation.
A rundown house
perched on a live memory,
with me alone conversing with both
is a double desolation.
Twenty years ago when I took a look around
It wasn’t there.
Someone now tells me at a reunion
the house is standing,
only new streets
interlock around it.
It’s still there! That’s nice,
one desolation gets sloughed off
It’s only when reality slips by
like a sliding panel
that you realize
that the marvellous in the everyday real
has passed you by.
Seated on the hull of your boat
you lurch and tilt.
The horizon is the forest,
darkening leaf on darkening sky.
Slot your time properly
in the right caves.
The sea is the present
The forest is the future.
Speech is present tense
Echo is the future.
If you are talking of echoes
you are talking of walls.
If you talk of water echo
you are discussing womb walls –
come out of it.
Unsure on land
you take to the sea.
The skyline is a forest
graveled with white coral grit.
Whatever evil he suffered, he forgot
said Milosz in one of his poems.
Now that’s a scrap of myth, isn’t it?
And it is one thing to forgive
and another to forget.
I tried to put things behind me,
in the backyards of memory-clutter,
and went back to my flirtations with altitudes,
touched the Karakorams at Siachen,
touched – Hindi has such a lovely word for it, ‘sparsh’ –
Nubra, the garden of the North
and slept in a tent at Tsomoriri –
the rocks brown, the lake blue;
I got hold of a scrap of a myth here
(at 15000 feet it’s a good scrap to grab).
It was very hot, and a woman called Tsomo
riding a yak couldn’t rein him in,
as the yak made straight for the lake.
She kept shouting ‘riri, riri’, ‘stop, stop’ in Tibetan,
but the yak went in and they both drowned.
The stars have flung
their net into the sea
Among the thrashing fish shoal
and the lassoed crab
look for me.
Times and places we see in such rainbow hues
A picnic, or a visit to grandma or monkeying at zoo
The colourful moments of those that then lived
Hearty laughter and ideas they believed
The wide open space in the middle of the house
The glum & the numb lost in chaos
Of friendless times in laps of love
When at 100 m/hr the tongas did plough
Accelerated due its riders’ lung power
The earthen stove, smoking up the food
That makes reality into an apparition
Clouding my eyes for no apparent reason
I try to remove the haze with an impatient swipe
But all my memories are now just in black & white.
something right in your
previous life, alright; For it’s
Karma to have me so happy with delight
When you come tired home from office or market
What would I know of appraisals or targets. But here
I am with you, for you to love you always. To see your spirits
soar and flag, while I lay or sit and my tail does wag. Like a totem
me of my Karma. What
terrible thing was it that though
your drivel could drive anyone senile,I
only can happily drool, wag, jump and smile.
This is the latest from one of my favourite writers in fiction writing. A gripping tale of a family becoming victim to personal vendetta and business rivalry in an arena that knows no value for ethics. The story has all the neccessary ingredients to keep it going but I do miss the incisive wit and cunning that spewed from Mr Archer’s pen in his previous novels like ‘Kane & Able’,’Not a penny more, not a penny less’ and others.
The story is about the Clifton family who is being targetted by Don Pedro Martinez with a vicious vengeance that will brook no obstacle to obtain his aim. While the Cliftons are being keenly guarded by the police, Don Pedro takes his fight onto Emma Clifton’s brother the cabinet secretary Sir Giles Barrington’s chances to further his political career. Other than that all is well in everyone’s personal lives as Emma’s children Sebastian and Jessica find suitable life partners too with all sides giving their blessings until Don Pedro plays his heinous part to bring unhappiness all concerned what with his connections with the Nazis and even the IRA.
In all of this, Cedric Hardcastle, an outsider to these families, appears like a godfather and sets about righting the wrongs. But is he able to help them despite his efforts is what is most interesting.
Just when I’d decided Mr Archer going all mellow and spongy soft with most of his characters, he lends a twist that made me ask him- Why sir why…?
A lone ranger you may be, ah! the tragedy,
Love lorn your heart will ever remain; for more & again
Will he, won’t he? love me or claim me?
All you care is another hunt, another snare
Yes I’ll be your friend, to the earth’s other end
Secure of a back-up, no issues will I rake up
Check the crack in the dam, I’m done damn you!
Over with the ache, out with the farce, for our sake
Undo the ties that belie the truth
Never believe I am- far too gone in this sham
Truth be told, I saw us together grow old
One life we know, we reap what we sow
Nothing more than your thoughts;you’re all about wild oats!
Me and my chatter, are things that don’t matter
Ever so my dear friend, we can see it through the curve & bend.
walk through life’s endless road
beast or beauty what’s your load
would it really matter,
you knew money nor letter?
just watchout for what’s the end mode
Gushing rapid wordy
Rushing torrents run
The tap dry