The Poetry Marathon

A sumptuous 5-course meal
At the enviable Taj and waited on hand and foot
Is no match to the simple but wholesome
Curd rice,
Conjured in minutes by Amma
The combo of Steamed rice and curd
Tempered with spices aromatic
Garnished with corriander and love
Topped with tangy mango pickle
Is no less than the meanest kind of magic
A 5 year old then; Amma, curd rice and me
A 50 year old now, my kid, curd rice and me
And Amma smiles at us, beaming, reminiscing
Times flies and yet it stands so still….

I often wonder at the futility of dreams
Unattainable, a wild goose chase, it seems

Yet, these dreams have power
Hiding inside them, seed of hope, that will flower
Above your cynicism and negativity, will it tower

But, is it worth the pain
Of dreaming; they going unfulfilled yet again?

I so wish, dreams came with a tap
I could switch on or off, with a snap!

They don’t; when they break, hear their screams
I often wonder at the futility of dreams

But, is it worth the pain
Setting up hopes high, like spirited rain
When they will see no daylight, yet again

Hark! Miss hope into my breast, finds her way
“Dreams do come true, dream on; your cynicism away!”

I ntegers; almost every student’s nightmare!
N ay! They’re not going anywhere
T esting patience, tiring you out tirelessly
“E ndgame am I!” Declare the integers
G ear up! They are not so unsolvable
E ncourage your grey cells to cram some rules
R elax and recharge your self-confidence
S ee; integers ain’t no witchcraft, they’re afterall just numbers!

‘My dear fairy child’
Read my grandmother’s letter,
‘My dear, pay heed
This comes to you, all the way from the kingdom of the sun
Where the sun never sets, where there are no dreams
For they are all realized
We know neither thirst nor hunger
We care for neither happiness nor sorrow
Contentment shines through every pore of our existence
And yet, today, from nowhere, flew a shard of a memory
From another world, from another time
And lodged itself in my being, refusing to leave
Till I collected all the sunbeams from my kingdom
Weaved them together in to words, imprisoning them in this letter
And leaving them at your doorstep
My child, when you read this, take heed,
I will always remember you
As a gift from the angels,
With a smile rivalling the sun’s grandeur
And a heart, as soft as down
Yet as strong as a diamond
That smile can crumble any fortress, any enemy’s evil designs
While that heart can house love for the entire universe
Decimating it too, if it turns against humanity
Remember, balance is the key to a good, fulfilling life
You already know, this be the only letter ever required from me
Live well, child
I will sleep well tonight…

I am a child of the universe
I saunter around, every *pavement* is my home,
A learning board around my neck
And a *satchel*, filled to brim with my treasures;
A *wine glass* to remember to say, “cheers’ to any situation
A block of *cheddar cheese*, just enough to keep this guant frame going
A bunch of sunflowers,their cheerfulness to drive away any sorrow
And finally a nail to safely secure my Memories, from escaping the space in my satchel and from my life….

I am the soul of a revolutionary fighter of India/
Listlessly roaming the streets of Chauri Chaura/
The pages of history unfurl back a hundred years,/

Mind rankles with the memory/
Of that cursed day when oppressed, supressed enslaved Indians/
Decided it was time to unleash their fire/
That the British had so unjustly trampled upon;/
caged a lion in a dog’s kennel…/
We the revolutionaries had rent the air of ‘Gauri Bazar’/
With crisp anti-British slogans/
Against high food prices and anti- dharma liquor shops,/

The Police opened violence upon us like/ we were cattle or mad dogs/
‘Always leave at least one door open, when you corner a lion/
Lest it pounce upon you’ have said our elders
A lesson our oppressors didn’t ever heed/
We retaliated and burnt their police station down/
As bodies burnt, pitiful cries echoed, it felt/ retribution had at last found peace/
But we are from the land of the ‘ahimsa’; we believe in karma/
We believe in ‘athithi devo bhava’, /
in doing our duty without focus on the fruit/

The non co-operation movement called off;/
I died of a broken heart/
With unanswered questions, frozen on my lips/
As I float through today’s India,/
The questions, broken, fragmented, flying from different directions/
Slam in to each other, to conjure into one whole, /
They disturb me; the questions, I mean/
Who was wrong? Who was wronged? /
Says our Gita, if the one sinned against, / does not fight back
Is more a sinner than the sinner himself/

I ask again, I seek the answers again,/
‘Who was wrong? Who was wronged?’/
I know they will remain unanswered/
Today too, in every lane, in every corner of my beloved country,/
There will always be a ‘Chaura Chauri’/ imprisoned in the pages of posterity/
And the answers will hang in the air,/guarded by swords for posterity…

I am strapped to my wheelchair
My legs lie still, will never kiss Earth again…
But they cannot weigh my heart down
For that muscled fella has eyes
That dream big of conquering mountains and fears alike,
Of scaling heights and sailing through seas of sorrow,
Of manisfesting in mine mind, a city of stars
Stars stitched together, parodying hope
Gave birth to the city of lights
That shines like a beacon from afar and gently guides you
To itself and then to your core, your soul
Where you can see millions of stars
Dancing around the bonfire of desire, of hope, of failing, if getting up..
Like the death dance of spiritied fireflies, who Sway to the tune of the melody of their fate
And you wonder; what is death? What is life?

What is this city of stars?

Is it but a space, a chasm? A mirage?
Or is it a silver lining in the clouds…?

My friend, do not fear what lies ahead of you
Do not let nightmares of impending doom
Mar your sleep of the just,
Let not the world’s disdain and disowning of you,
Become a dreaded refrain, whispering in your ears,
Remember
Between the woods and frozen lake,
Between hell and highwater,
Between the good and bad,
Between love and hate,
Between possible and impossible,
Lies possibilities; simple and stark
Primal and like wisps of golden-tendril dreams
Remember between date of birth and death
Lies not just an immaterial dash, but
Golden balls of opportunities
Go, grab em; all that you need is
Courage to look beyond those wild woods
And the stoical frozen lake
And your heart in the right place!
__________
Credit: 6th line from Robert frost

Life is passing me by; tis like the dusty streets
Oft times, I feel only thunderstorms are for me

And then like nascent flower buds,
Like daybreak from clutches of the night,
Gushes love in to my life

Like a hearty full-bodied rain,
Drenches me in its embrace
The dusty streets revamped; a giant looking-glass
Pitter-patter, plop – plop, their mesmerising drone
They play out a melody; to the rainsong,
My love-drenched heart plays a giddy tattoo

The rain swathes me in her arms,
Creating merry whirlpools of desire in my breast
My feet; the muddy puddles creating magical waves
O! The wellspring of desire becomes me
Drench me entirely, temptress rain, O I am in love…

I am Aarthi V. Karanam from Mumbai, India. I am an MA in English literature. I am primarily a homemaker . Writing is my passion. I have written several poems, shortstories in various facebook platforms. I have also vontributed to a couple of anthologies.

As the hour nears, I am nervous as a first time participant in the marathon. At the same time I am quite confident of finishing too. 😀