Monday, December 31, 2007

in Bengal daughters are very much loved and adored by their fathers.they are often lovingly called as Maa[mother],as if the father is a little child ,to be taken care of,scolded and loved by the tiny mother .....
it is an unique relationship.i have tried to capture the mood ...hope my readers like it and strengthens the bond with their lovely daughters.

the new morn

She was sitting on the floor ,
with all her tiny cups n saucers ........making tea.
'' baba .....o...baba....again you are sleeping?
pouting her sweet lips two little hands tugging a sleeve of my shirt,
as i was dozing in the warm morning sun in my chair.
with the newspaper in my hand.

'taste the tea' she commanded ..
tea made of muddy water...
pride in her eyes ,
sweat glistening on her forehead.
i pretended to sip the tea,
she was hovering like a mother hen over her only baby .....

'hurry up baba we will go to the market'
excitedly my little Maa said.
i smiled .....
hand in hand we went to the garden.
she picked up lots of different leaves ,
pebbles and dust lovingly, to cook for her son....
in her small pots and pans.

''baba....oh ...baba cant you sit still?'
she was serving dust rice,pebble meat and leaves
vegetable on a plate taken from her mom's treasure.

'after lunch we will go to the seabeach '
now she was thinking of going out ...
different coloured dirt and dust ,
made a rainbow on her dress.

i smiled little precious ...
sea is not far....
she ran against the wind ..barefeet laughed n
sat on my lap ..told me all her stories all made
where the prince and the princess,
goblin and the wizard all became one.
curly hair covered the tired ,angelic face...
tiny little fingers hold on to my hand.
my Maa is feeling sleepy.

as i hugged her in my bosom n looked afar ,
the sun was slowly going down the horizon,
dusk is setting in ,
a beautiful fragrance engulfing us.
another year passing by,slowly very slowly,
my little angel,my two year old daughter ....
will see a bright new morn tomorrow.....

a tribute to my father


Monday, December 24, 2007

Last night when you wept did I not respond?

plateful of goodies ,wine is flowing ,
nightlong dancing going on ....
it is the festival time .

whose festival is this anyway?i ask,
the mother who is sitting like a scared animal with two kids,
in the dark corner of the pavement.she had been raped twice last night.
is it for those two kids?or the
little baby in the orphanage?
left by her unwed mother under the mango tree.
body half eaten by big ants.
crying for some milk...

whose festival is this anyway?i ask ,
for the father who worked extra to earn a bit more ?
to buy new dresses for the little ones at home,
but the factory has closed down last night......
or for the old lady shivering in her dark hole of a room?
her sons died in the ethnic war .....
oh Dearest whom are you giving your gifts?this festival please ,please
touch my heart with Your brightest loving light...
to feel the sorrow of others in my poor little heart....

Last night when you wept did I not respond?
Continue your reading.....
and you read.
"God's earth is wide and those who persevere patiently will be given a full and unstinting reward.'' say ''I have been commanded to serve God .Dedicating my worship entirely to Him''

so rise again beloved
and come to Me,
Into My Arms
I am the Friend
The Beloved
The One.


Tuesday, December 4, 2007

May our quilts be threadbare

On Judgement Day my angel was sewing,
the quilt of Life.
Tattered and torn
Filled with giant holes,
Ragged pieces of cloth threadbare
empty like binding air.
Tears welled up in eyes.

Other tapestries were filled with colour
and the hues of worldly fortune.
But mine was threadbare.

Finally the Time came,
the scrutiny of Truth.
Each life to be displayed.
Angel nodded for me to rise,
gaze dropped to the ground in shame.
No earthly fortunes to show
only love and laughter.
Lots of trials and temptations to quit.
Often been held up to ridicule, humiliation, enduring painfully.
Offering to Him in hope that,
I would not melt beneath the judgemental gaze,
who unfairly judged me

Slowly lifted up the quilt,
an awe filled gasp filled the air.
Light flooded the many holes,
and became the face of my Beloved.
He said, "each point of Light in your quilt,
shows when you stepped aside,
and let Me shine through
Until there was more of Me than there was of you."

May all our quilts be threadbare and worn,
to shine our Beloved's face ever more.

dedicated to my beloved son--aubhi...


[theme taken from email]