Visitor Form Another Star…

I fell from the star, shining so bright…

Fell into lap of trees so light…

I dreamt of some wonderland…

Far away from this suffer-land…

What is dream, I know not…

Don’t know where reality I forgot…

On the verge of a brand new daybreak…

I spilt my heart out with all its wreck…

I laughed at my shattered reality…

With my hands shaping another novelty….

Dreams in my eyes had flown to my hands…

I raised royal mansions on the deserted sands…

To hell with the reality, I refuse to see it…

Its prickling thorns have bled me to burry it…

Now I foresee the dreams will come real…

I can sense their texture, their weave I feel…

The trees, the soft ruffle of their leaves…

Lighted dome of the colourful skies…

Am daughter o’ the divine, I own it all…

I quench thy thirst….I make the rains fall…

I create…I destroy the universes many….

I own everything, yet have not a penny!

Whenever I need a dime or two…

He showers me in his endless golden glow…

I came from that star, shining so bright….

But now I take a homebound flight….

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Sensitivity….

The other day I encountered a group of small kids not older than 7 or 8…. Though they were small by physical age, their tender child-ness was killed somehow….

They watched me with mad eyes and commented like roadside eve teasers…..Obscene words that they spoke… I felt a jerk of pain because; they well understood the meaning of it…. Yes, more than feeling humiliation or anger….I felt pain….

Watching grown ups with zero sensitivity does not hurt me as much hurts watching small kids become roughened in their tender ages….

When their minds should be sensitive, mouldable and ready to gather imprints of God’s lovely world, they were inert to the calls of nature…. They were blind to the autumn beauty of trees…. They were deaf to the chirrup of birds….. Their reaction to a stray animal was only to kick or hit with a stone….. And their reaction to a fellow human being was nothing different! I wonder often, who taught them to react in such way? Who brought them to rip and crush the gentle baby-leaves of plants while passing by?

There is something wrong with the way kids are being educated….. Isn’t there? Something massive destructive monster is let lose amongst them…..

We must find and hunt it down….

We must save kids from becoming pray of insensitivity, inhumanity and imprudence too…

The way they are crushing plants and butterflies in their young fists….tomorrow they will hold a gun to our temples with no remorse…..

We are nourishing terrorists in disguise….yes! Sounds very extreme doesn’t it? But think of the cases of molestation, domestic violence and juvenile crime filling out our news papers…. Is there much difference between terrorists and these people who live just around the corner of out houses??

Not that they are all uneducated, not that they come only from so called uncultured families….. But nobody has ever bothered to watch into their minds while they are young, to remove the dirt and passivity, to plant goodness and human-ness…..

It makes me so restless….to think of those kids and so many many like them……That I sometimes fear if my sensitivity itself is my crime!

Do you ever feel the same?

Garden In Dreams…

I was very young….young enough to do good things in stupid innocence, easily…

Silent kid, wondering her spare time off in the small garden around my house… humming and talking to the trees and plants……they were real people to me, alive and with personalities like you and me…..

The Gulmohar who spread his kind, fatherly shadow over half the garden…..

Tiny seasonal flower tots who suddenly used to burst out of ground as monsoons hit the continent….

Aged soft trunk of lady banana….

And tricky, thorny thicket of lemon tree….

Tall coconut trees in the front yard that stood like a grave sentries….

And motherly Parijataka who cradled bulbul nests on her branches…

There was a scarecrow my cousin had installed in the back garden….and he had ensured it scared not just the crows but his tiny dreamy sister too….

I avoided the backyard as stubbornly as the morning cup of milk….because did you know that the scarecrow was actually a monster who could grab me if I went alone in the backyard….?!

But the rest of the garden was happy and cheerful as a daily soap family! With grandpa trees and baby bushes all around the place!

Things from my mothers kitchen often found refuge in garden…..after all trees too need spoons and plates! Don’t they?!

I ate, slept and smiled amongst the shade of those trees….in silent neighborhood of suburban Pune….it was a peaceful childhood….unaware of the world of humans….

Now that house and garden do not exist. Like all adjacent plots, a multi-storey residential building has sprung up there now….

But…the garden lives in me…. Part of me belongs to the dream of garden…still smiling and humming to the trees. No doubt they can still understand my baby talk….

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