Showing posts with label hostel life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hostel life. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 2, 2015

Simple is as simple gets....

My blogger friend Leo is back with daily prompts and I'm more than delighted to tag along there, as I terribly missed the Haiku Heights initiative by him. So here are my two poems on the prompt 'simple' :) Let's get the juices flowing.....at A prompt each day

To say that falling love
Is as simple as it can be
Is fooling around
With that caged heart of yours

To say that words written
Are like a feather gliding through silk
Is partial truth
For words often lose their speech

To say that friends last forever
Like the big massive trees
Is a false hope
For trees too wither and die

To say that happiness should be strived
Like the fireflies dancing at night
Is like living in a bubble
For emotions are fluxes



Simple is not as simple gets
Simple loves to become complex
Simple for them, is not simple for you
Simple, a joke, around many and a few
Simple, the smile, radiant in the light
Simple, her wrinkles, which through her skin, slide
Simple, his eyes, small and deep
Simple, his actions, thoughtful and sweet
Simple, the mom’s cooking, for her
Simple, not, but best her food for us
Simple, the care of father for the kids
Simple and loved the blanket in the cold mist

Simple is not simple as simple gets
Simple knows how to be unique
Simple a daily dose
A breeze comforting and at ease

Sunday, May 31, 2015

The walls that saw me grow


I'm a great admirer of life and its ways. If there is one thing that has continued to surprise me, it has to be life. It's malleable, ductile, strong yet fragile. In fact, it's only times and situations which bestow upon us its strengths and weaknesses.

Staying in a hostel for two years of my life was a blessing in disguise. It was extremely hard to continue, sometimes, as there were days when I felt that ending my life in those four walls would lead to people's life continuing the same way; perhaps nobody would know that I was no more, unless they would find me dead, only at the pretext of having some work to do with me.

There are times when nobody, no body can help and the walls of your little room stand there, strengthened by all the tears you drained, the shouts you never screamed and the worst fears you ever imagined. The walls become your container and start reflecting the very things you would have run away from, in the presence of your beloved family.  The nights begin to re define themselves as a day survived and the days call forth for a new beginning and a new struggle.

Have you ever been in a situation where for months together you carried on, not for your pitiful self, but for the dear ones who continued to have faith in you, even as you had given up on yourself?
The struggle of collapsing into pieces and collecting those pieces repeatedly isn't easy. Perhaps it's nothing less than a test of your capacities. A diamond doesn't shine till it has withered itself in all the darkness, a tunnel only defines itself to the end which people seek towards the light, a night, my dear friends, becomes graceful because of the stars.

Having stayed in a place where people were too busy to spare time for themselves, the walls taught me to be on my own. They told me not to fear eating alone; more so, they taught me to love my own company and dine with it, whenever I had the luxury of time, so I did. I remember an occasion very vividly, I was looking pretty with my tee tucked inside the pallazos I wore and was off for lunch until a friend met on the way and asked if I was going to a date? Well, yes I was, with my self!

There were days when I felt the need of a company but brushed that feeling aside and went ahead by myself. Today when I look back, those moments have taught me to rely on nobody, not because they are not reliable but because they lack time, but myself. It's true when people say that those who stood beside you in times of adversity are your real friends.

Relationships have never been just about the softness, for its the sharp edges, the coarseness, the brittle parts that are chiselled to form something beautiful. The tears question the doubts just as a little child questions the adult life.  The body aches with illness as there's no time to get sick. The distance sighs at its length, as it's too far to come closer. The friendship takes a new meaning as the circle begins to shrink. The home becomes an abode of everything blissful we denied when we had it. The self becomes a soul, so rich with emotions and experiences, it's like a life within a life.

As I left my hostel room, a friend urged me to have a last look of the room and the hostel. I replied I didn't want to as I had stayed there long enough to not know about it. Truth was: the walls had made an impression on me which was etched in my memory. That room of mine cemented my life in a way that leads me to write about my experience today. It saw me dance, sing, cook, draw, write poetry, all in my self’s company. That room was life experiencing itself, at the end of a tiring day!
One of my drawings among the many. Drawing, a love I found in those times:) 

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