Chantings of a Daughter

I have enshrined your name Mother within my heart,

There is nothing equal to it,

Meditating in Remembrance on it,

My troubles are taken away,

Chanting your name….I have received the blessed,

I am reminded of your Darshan,

Many thousand days I don’t see you maa (mother),

When you were here I never realized you were here,

You gave even before I asked you for,

You were the creator, the half part of me,

You are half alive in me, half in bhaiya (brother),

You always cured us; we could not cure you,

Your intolerant absence, make me chant your name..

You were the many names people had given you,

For me you were the only god I met in life,

So I chant your name.. माँ(mother).

Poetry arrived.. in search of me

And it was at that age…Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don’t know, I don’t know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don’t know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.

I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names
my eyes were blind,
and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire
and I wrote the first faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open,
planets,
palpitating planations,
shadow perforated,
riddled
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the winding night, the universe.

And I, infinitesimal being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
I felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke free on the open sky.

 

Pablo Neruda

A little longing of aayushi-aditi..

We yearn to sit under shady trees,
and watch the falling leaves midway in air, the little sparrows, what a lovely pair?
a little plant trying to grow, fireflies in its entire glow,
the little things in life we want to feel, like the warm summer wind,
the fragrant breeze of spring and the winter chill,
working on realmofreverie we want to grab a cup of warm tea,
and sit by the window watching the first drizzle of rainy season.
or read a Ruskin Bond book for the hundredth time,
we want to travel the world and make many friends in all places,
we want to walk barefoot on a beautiful beach and collect seashells,
build a sand castle, and if get fortunate enough, we will spot a starfish!
we want to stay up in the night, and collect more LITTLE LONGINGS,
we want to stay in bed till late mornings when it’s too cold,
but we want to wake up to the song of birds too.
aayushi-aditi, wants to see the first light of day streak out from behind the clouds,
and the last rays of sun fading out below the horizon;
we want to watch a little plant,
growing up and becoming a tree,
we want to know what love is,
and above everything else,
all the crazy, wonderful, insane people out there in the world,
we want to be with you, know you, without talking at all we want to talk about our entire world to you,
DEAR READERS, we want to be in your cup of coffee, when you read realmofreverie.

Grief of a Daughter

**This poem is about a girl like you and me,who loved her mother,
but ‘ME’ have lost her mother,
Death is not “UNCOMMON”
It will come to me,it will come to you,
I met death,every day for two consecutive years,
To see your creator dying,is not less then dying own-self,
A part of me is Dead,the BREASTS who fed me are Dead.

OH MOTHER!
When the back moves,the pain is sensed,though shall the soul feels your separation..
In grief of the physical body,i get up in the middle of the night,to touch your spirit,
OH MOTHER!
I can not sleep..
I dip my wounds,in Papa’s love,and wrap it with him(my lover-as a bandage),even then the wound does’not heal..

OH MOTHER!
I am bleeding..
I blow a gentle air at the wound,but the wound bounces back,who shall medicate me?
I shall zip my lips tight, lest the world does’not hear me cry,
I will digest the bite of separation,baked by the destiny,

OH MOTHER!
I wont beg at the door of heavens,you must there be in LESS-PAIN?
I am afraid,will you wait for so long?
When i am Dead,i will make the best tea for you.