Saturday, 10 December 2016

Of Many Colours

Of Many Colours

I wore blue today.
Royal Blue
That is how I feel when I step out under the winter sky
Bluebells on the hedges, blue bougainvilleas with their fluttering dry paper leaves
Ice cold blue with blue bangles
You had better keep your distance from me
So they don’t offend you, my blue veins that stand out
Getting up in the morning, taking my bath at dawn
Washing those left over dishes
And drying those cold clothes
I wore blue today
To feel the glitter in my blue eyes, for I am tired of feeling grey

Is pink my colour?
It gives the colour to my cheeks
When my husband brings me a gift
But more often when my in laws point out my mistakes
I can hide under my pink lips, bangles and ribbons
The blushes turn to anger soon
Again that is pink and can be kept under wraps
Like my pink dupatta which hid my embarrassment
From the repulsive maulings
Of a revered teacher or a co-passenger or a kin
So I wear a brighter pink
To hide behind my anger, desire, pleasure and... sometimes loathing

  
The warm feel of the soft grass
The distant trees forming the skyline of a deserted road
The verdant reflection in the nearby pool
The creepers on the wall reaching out to the sun on the roof
Their tender tendrils seeking a toehold
Warm, new, ever growing
Soaking up the dust mites, carbon
Green is my colour
Born in the tussle between Mother Earth and Sun and its siblings
Green won in tentative steps
Over a billions of years
So how can I wreck it in a few planned moves of destruction over a hundred years?

Bright and Sunny yellow
Nothing keeps it down
Flitting from flowers to flowers on the wings of a butterfly
Or gracing the newly weds in the woven marigold
Cheery and Chirpy but always graceful
Yellow knows
Life is a myth
Nothing lasts and nothing is yours
Like the yellow sun bleaches all it falls on
Time washes away all memories
Except perhaps the fabricated ones, all man made
Yellow is my colour: which holds an eternity in every moment







This poem is inspired by the bright colourful sarees worn by Indian women and relates them to her various moods. I would appreciate your comments and suggestions.

Monday, 4 July 2016

An ode for Self and my 40s Friends (nee Teens!)

(With due apologies to the real poets out there!)


When hormones and BPs make a call
Does friendship go for a stroll? 

Kitty parties, kids and kitchen
Maids, puppies, homework and men
Tie it up with anniversaries and weddings
Bdays, golf parties, work parties and promotions
Parents, arthritis, doctors checkups
Boss, deadlines, budget and the alumni curse

Aunts uncles getting old
As we struggle to make time for them
Those childhood memories get slowly lost
GTs, selfies, whatsapp, games though manage to rule the frame

We still manage to survive the day
With a smile, attitude and reserve at play
Where Everyday is a new day and and Every pic has a new Wrinkle

Those are not worry lines but smile lines 

No anti wrinkle cream is erasing the experience
No doc making us live forever

When finally the mood swings stop and Life settles
Remember we will be too old to play
So let's enjoy the egos and squabbles
And let those thyroid, BP and hormones have their day

Let them just add one more crinkled line of strength
to the bond called friendship; here’s to the day

Let's live it up!

Monday, 16 May 2016

Watching an IPL Match

IPL at Vizag
I have always loved my cricket, so it was a pleasant surprise when my husband asked me to accompany him to a cricket match at Vizag. I have been unaware of the IPL goings on for the past couple of years. I don't really remember the reason the interest just petered off. Was it when Chennai found itself at the centre of the betting scandal? I guess so. I mean when the Champion team's owner's relative was found out being immersed with unsavoury characters with proven involvement in betting scandals and the same owner owns Indian cricket and the captain of the team also captains the country...the relationship between all of Indian cricket and the betting industry and IPL becomes kind of incestuous. Anyways that's a separate story from my IPL watching yesterday!

So, cut off as I was from the game I didn't know what to expect. But to my immense pleasure I found two heroes at the ground at Vizag! And one of them, my all time favorite in cricket, Rahul Dravid, was in the dugout right beneath our Stand! So I had a pleasant couple of hours before the match (yes, we reached two hours early because my husband said what do we do in Vizag otherwise?) doing some Rahul spotting.

Rahul Dravid ..so near!


I hadn't even known that Dravid had moved to Delhi, let alone expecting to find him at Vizag! Wonder what have happened to my other RR favorites, Steve Smith and Shane Watson. But Rahul has got his protege Sanju Samson to Delhi with him. Rahul being simple Rahul and not Dhoni, this strategy was/is bound to fail. I mean, for what reason does one take a Sanju Samson in the middle order against line ups that has huge hitters like Pollard, etc. He is not a strategic big hitter who can make 40 off 12 balls. He is not being used as a wicket keeper, he is not being used as an opener even to hustle some quick runs. That's my un-expert observation about the game.
Now, on to more interesting stuff. Sachin was of course welcomed with a roar. All the glamorous models we see anchoring on TV were not visible. Even the cheerleaders were at the other side of the stadium, away from us. So nothing interesting from that angle. This brings me to wonder,  aren't binoculars allowed in stadiums these days? Would sure have helped some!

Zaheer and Dravid... eye candy
The lounge where we sat was adjacent to a food and waiting lounge. The constant beeline for the drinks and snacks and food became irritating to say the least. The normal humidity of Vizag became suffocating under the spotlights especially when a big black ant crept into my shirt and got mixed up with the sweat lines. The relief from the free steam bath could be had in the air conditioned food lounge if one could be confident enough to leave ones' seats for sometime and one could get some standing area in the lounge amongst the moving food plates and beer mugs. Delhi won the toss, and as was expected, elected to field. Unfortunately for them, Krunal Pandya (whoever is he?) got into a groove and had some really big hits which took Mumbai past 200. The evening was freely peppered with sixes and I kept hoping I would get to catch one and make the TV! 

Delhi decided that enough was enough and decided to end it quickly with a rash of wickets. Fortunately I saw the end coming, being the apostle I am, and plead successfully with my husband to leave the match behind and head home after the fourth Delhi wicket was down. 

So here's to another IPL match. Only this was watched by me and hence made the difference (to only me I guess !)