A String of Pearls - मोतियों की माला

Don't thread these pearls On a weak string Each one's A solidified reminder Of a moment so precious An emotion so deep Collected with care A moment Of being truly alive Of letting go Of experiencing The rawness Of Life That shakes you up Of squeezing out Every last drop Handle them with care Oh Beloved For they're not just Pearls of grief Interspersed also On that string That adorns are Moments of gratitude Tears of Joy

इन मोतियों को  कच्चे धागों में न पिरोना  हर मोती है एक ठोस सबूत  उस कीमती लम्हे का  गहरी भावनाओं को  संभाल के सहेजा हुआ  इक पल  ज़िन्दगी को गले लगाने का  आत्मसमर्पण उसे  अनुभव उसके कच्चे सौन्दर्य का  ज़िन्दगी  जो झिंझोड़  दे  उसकी हर बूँद  निचोड़ लें  संजो के रखना इन्हे   ओ प्रिये ये सिर्फ गम के ही  मोती नहीं  बीच बीच में मिलेंगे तुम्हे  इस माला में सजे हुए  क्षण आभार भरे  आँसू खुशी के

- Seattle, December 31, 2013

(Inspired by Anne Lamott's Bird-by-Bird)
Image credit: Morning_Pearls_by_ChrisBay101

Now, I choose

Now, I choose Joy That gurgles through Mountainous, rocky pathways Now, I choose Love That drenches Every pore on every shore Without restraint Now, I choose Laughter That bursts through The very fabric of my being Now, I choose To know my whole Self Embracing my shadow and my light Now, I choose Not to withhold any part of myself Take it or leave it This is who I am  - Mumbai, October 29, 2013

अब, मैं चुनती हूँ  हर्ष  जो झर झर गुनगुनाए  पथरीले रास्ते अपनाये  अब, मैं चुनती हूँ  प्रेम  जो करे रोम रोम सराबोर  असंयत हर छोर  अब, मैं चुनती हूँ  हँसी  जो फूटे  यकायक  कहीं भीतर से अचानक  अब, मैं चुनती हूँ  पूर्णतः आत्म ज्ञान  गले लगा अपनी छाया एवं प्रकाश  अब, मैं चुनती हूँ  अपना ही साथ आप चाहें या ना मानें  यही है मेरी पहचान   - Seattle, December 13, 2013

The Banyan Tree

Just hearing the words evokes memories of childhood…

A sprawling tree in one corner of my school's playground. A shady spot of respite to cool off from the intense heat. To sit under and talk to friends. To rest against its strong trunk and regain my strength. It always tempted me to grab hold of its shoots and swing around like a monkey. And something about the way its broad leaves fanned out over my head was extremely reassuring.

That Banyan Tree in that playground, way back when, was a symbol of strength and stability. Of generosity and benevolence. Of patience and wisdom.

Over the past few weeks, I've experienced 'The Banyan Tree' of a slightly different kind.

How interesting that it evokes much of the same feelings!

I first experienced it during the staged readings at the ACT Theater in 2012 and when it went into a full theatrical production this year, I found myself lending a hand to the team with their props and costumes. From my early visits to the rehearsals to the opening last night, it's remarkable to observe how this Banyan Tree has grown so beautifully.

How Tulika's script itself had such strong roots - providing stories that ran the entire gamut of emotions, provoking thoughts about our roles and choices in a personal and societal context...

How Agastya, as the director, offered continuous strength and support to each participant, guiding and tweaking, helping each member to be ever present and really get under the skin of the character they were portraying...

How each actor absorbed the rich nutrients offered during this creative journey, developing their own unique qualities to extend the reach of the Tree and strengthen the whole…

How the camaraderie and playfulness during practice translated into some delightful moments for the audience and flowed with a natural ease…

This production of 'The Banyan Tree' is a terrific example of how theater as an art form gloriously shines a light on our own human idiosyncrasies. How showing a mirror to our inevitable daily struggles through the lens of humor makes them a little more palatable. How portraying seemingly difficult conversations helps us to deepen our own roots and draw the strength we need. To grow into the best possible versions of ourselves.

 - 7 September, 2013

Of a molten hot weekend...

Flowing rods aflame

Softly embrace the mandrel

Frit and stringers, turquoise

Ivory, black and coral

Possibilities umpteen

The first bead white, pristine

Followed by a veritable explosion

Rainbow hues in fascinating fusion

Balancing my flame amid

Propane and oxygen

For stray, distant thoughts

There is no margin

The glowing glass mesmerizes

Melding colors, full of surprises

Many an experiment

Much bewilderment

Some turning out

Exactly the way I thought

While others, bringing results

Wholly unsought

Some that shatter

Some with chinks

Are the ones that matter

That form true links

Teaching me life’s great lessons

An adventure always beckons

That in the end, it is about the journey

Of expressing and creating

Of Life squeezed out each moment

Of dropping all judgment

Learning to thrive

Of being fully alive

And always to strive

For love and surrender

Especially, during

Molten, hot weekends!

- Pratt Fine Arts Center... a fine place to be

Seattle, Feb 10, 2013

Molten glass

Molten glass

Bursts forth

Like lava erupting from

The bowels of this earth

Uncontained

Unconstrained

Wanting to simply break free

It has been held within

For too long

Facing a building pressure

Deep within

Churning turmoil seeking a fissure

Deep within

The surface of apparent calm

It had to break free

It had no choice

Holding it

Deep within

Only leads to

A horrific implosion

Bursting forth

With a relieving mystique

It transforms instantly

Into a cold dampness

Across my cheek

Tears of sorrow

Tears of pain

A new tomorrow,

Then…

Tears of laughter

Tears of gratitude, perhaps

Tears…

Never in vain

- Seattle, November 12, 2012

Train tracks

Memories of childhood travels

Fascination always

With the parallel tracks

Stretching out to infinity

As far as the eye could see

Astonishment always

At forces that hold them

Together with such certainty

So they can…

Just Be!

Wonder always

Does one rail ever get lonely?

Tired with its existence solitary

Carrying a weight constantly

A question that fuels my curiosity

Why do train tracks die?

Haven’t you seen them

Lying by the wayside?   

Their whole purpose denied

Desolate, lonely

Twisted and withered

A silent, sorrowed abode

To weeds and cigarette butts

Waiting endlessly

For a train that arrives

Never

Haven’t you felt their anguish?

Sleepers rotting, junctions corroding

The tracks sadly languish

Their former shiny glory waning

Confidence starkly dissipating

Lying about in disrepair

Forlorn, morose, filled with despair

Lost, rusted

Hopelessness encrusted

What caused them to decay I wonder?

I’ve entertained many a notion…

Perhaps a seldom used station

Inattention causing putrefaction

Elements causing corrosion

Non-maintenance due to corruption

Perchance a misaligned junction

Or simply

Trains changing direction

But the bottom-line remains

Train tracks die

If one rail decides suddenly

To explore its own new territory

Losing meanwhile its identity

Ending up eventually

As a rod of scrap metal

Train tracks die

If they try to converge

Twisted metal

Sounds their dirge

Train tracks die

When there’s no maintenance

If either rail

Forsakes its penance

Train tracks die

When they no longer serve

Losing their purpose

Costs them their verve

Conversely though,

Train tracks thrive

When the rails journey

Side by side

Knowing deep inside

The other is always, just

An arm’s length away

Train tracks thrive

On a strong foundation

Anchored together

By a common purpose

A shared goal

Bearing the load equally

Carrying it in all safety

Connected intermittently

By sleepers and plates

Grounded well in reality

Train tracks thrive

Upon shedding all

Thoughts of entanglement

Setting their sights simply

On their complete enchantment

With the horizon ahead

-          Seattle, March 16, 2013

Outside my window…

A hint of the moon

Peeks from behind itself

On a clear

Cloudless blue sky

Outside my window

Snow-capped mountains peek

From behind their own shadows

Atop the clear

Waveless blue waters

Outside my window

Sheets of azure glass

Interspersed with graffiti

Birds, boats

The occasional kayak

Outside my window

Sounds of laughter

Traffic, trains

Even the occasional plane

A sweet, chattering twitter

Outside my window

Bright, cheerful sunshine

Dappled shadows 

Chattering, dancing, cavorting

A soft breeze springing

Outside my window

Blossoms on every tree

Blossom hope in every heart

Out of the stillness of winter

A new world springs forth

Takes a new birth

Outside my window

-          Seattle, March 31, 2013

2013 Holi Celebrations

...with a heartfelt thanks to CRY Seattle

होली के रंग 

कहीं नीला, तो कहीं है पीला 

लाल, गुलाबी, हरा, जमुनी 

आज दिखाई देता यहाँ 

है हर तरह का रंग 

छाई है मस्ती, मचा हुडदंग 

बरसीं अचानक रंगीली बौछारें 

सावन ले आया इक नयी उमंग 

कल रात मनाई थी  

होलिका की विदा 

मिल के जलाई थी 

अहंकार की चिता

आज चारों ओर 

नए रंग हैं खिले 

दूर दराज़ से यार-दोस्त 

सब यहीं हैं, आ मिले  

उड़ चला है हवाओं में 

इन्द्र धनुषी सा गुलाल 

उठ गया मन के कोनों  से 

छुपा बैठा कोई मलाल 

हर रंग लाया है संग 

अनोखी कोई भावना 

सिखलाये निभानी है मुझे 

नित नयी भूमिका 

आज के इस उत्सव पर 

इन रंगों में खो जाने दो 

इच्छाओं-आकांक्षाओं को त्याग 

इनसे भी परे हो जाने दो 

इन रंगों को जल तरंगों में 

जल्द ही बह जाने दो 

सफेदी की सादी सरलता को 

इस रूह में समा जाने दो 

फिर हर क्षण होगा यहाँ 

अदभुत अनन्य अनन्त

जीवन के इस खेल-चित्र में 

खिल उठेगा हर रंग 

-    Seattle, March 30, 2013