Pearls of Laughter

Tiny feet running around,
On tip toe, mapping the ground.
Under the bed lies your treasure land,
Blocks, balloons, balls, and plans Grand.
Animals on the mat await their turn
While you contrive spanking everyone's bum.
The elephant swing considers itself lucky,
When you mistake it for a pony.
Maira the doll, penguine pillow and the smiling pink baby,
Bears and the seal, Kingfisher and the blue fish in the basket,
Mickey and Minnie, the sandwich eating bear, chhota bheem with his friends on the tiles,
Old McDonald, Chai chai Coffee Coffee, and the mowgli song playing on the mobile.
You amidst all this,
Riding your panda car the wrong side,
The daily tricycle ride with the treat of fruits, meeting doggies, cats, monkeys on the route,
The bathing ritual
with your upteem efforts to lick the talcum.
The little nose that you squeeze
Spreading love with your mouth saying cheese.
Warm hugs in the folds of your arms
The delight we feel enjoying your charms.
Pearls of laughter
Moments to cherish forever.

Musings at night

It's a Cold winter night
I see my hands changing their skin
Some thoughts fog my mind
What they are, about whom,
I have no clarity.
They sit there like an un-noticed photo frame in a familiar room

My baby sleeps next to me
breathing heavily with blocked nose
a mosquito hums a sad song nearby asking for attention
Alas, our bug zapper is dying a slow death
The mosquito gets to live a little longer.

I have a craving for a hot steaming cup of adrak chai right now
Would it be worth a visit to the kitchen at one?
A selfish wish at the risk of waking up people in deep sleep!
but why shall I hesitate always?
I should take what I want.

Some Vehicles make a lot of noise
It is bad to have a house near the road.
You can't experience pindrop silence even at midnight.
I love the sound of Rail running on the tracks though.
Makes me feel drifted to a distant land,
It is good to be away from reality at times.

I try to think harder if there is anything that sits heavy on the mind
I would let it cloud my mind for some more time
till I find a way to say it loud
Baby posters on my front wall glare at me
My baby has chosen the central one to follow as an example
I look at it closely and smile back.
It seems to be sugesting
Go and have a cuppa of tea!
And. So. Well. Alright.

In Conversation

It all began long back,
Back when you were just a tiny speck in my womb,
You listened to all my worries, my complaints, anxieties and happy news,
One day you thought of replying back and I felt your kicks,
It became a routine between us to talk during our secret hours,
When no one could hear what we shared as a team,
Happy days, peaceful nights, and You and I in my dreams.

Time passed by and you entered our lives.
Hugs, kisses, cuddling and what not,
But you dint utter a word for long.
On your Daddy's Birthday, the world saw you talking to a balloon.
It became your partner day and night,
Happy winters saw your intent eyes fixed on the orange oval all the time,
Deep in thoughts, what you conversed with that balloon shall remain a secret.

Summers brought the fan to the limelight,
And You shifted your grace too soon.
So while your body was thoroughly massaged,
I sang too many songs for you,
You spoke, not with me, but to the fan.

Teddys were not far away.
A pink fluffy one caught your enthusiastic gaze and bang!
It is now the best buddy, your confidante, your favourite play pal.

I looked at you with wandering eyes,
waiting to go back to our own secret days, when we shared the world between us.
And then it came, the moment most indelible.
You chose an auspicious time to have our little tête-à-tête,
thus, began our four a.m. conversations...

For Aadvik

Ten little fingers,
And your cherubic face,
Chin like mine,
And your father's feet,
Pretty in purple,
glowing bright in white,
Multi-coloured mittens,
caps that fit your head just right,
Fragrance of your bathing soap,
the feel of massaging olive oil,
Touch of Cheeks on our shoulders,
The grip of fingers on my dress,
Glistening eyes looking at us intently,
cat like cries making us hold you tighter,
Our search for a pattern in your routine,
your tricks to mislead us each day,
The sound of you breathing,
the ecstasy of holding you in our arms,
My lullaby to soothe you to sleep,
Granny's numerous attempts to keep you safe from winter's peep,
Ten little fingers, and a cute little face,
We name you 'Aadvik' by God's grace.

Pooja Singal reacted to Yayathi VM's

For You

Little fluttering
Little jostling
kicks and pulls
throwing weight around

vivid dreams
secret fears
private talks and calming coos

vitamins and calcium
needle's pricks
bitter medicines and sweet ice creams

Scan's delight
sugar's plight
doctor's fright
bump's upright!

small knits
clearing spaces
simple pleasures
pearls of laughter

Strings and ropes
pillars and supports
we wait for You
gently and lovingly
in the place, we call home :)

Upsilamba!

Very often, we have this inner instinct feeling that something is going to happen soon, that may turn our lives by 360 degrees. What that is going to be, what impact would it have on our lives in the larger scheme of things, how would we deal with it, often falls in the domain of uncertainty and a vague sensation warning us of the immense potential of the moment haunts us all the time. Nobokov coined the term Upsilamba as a metaphor for freedom and creative expression, but can it stand the burden of uncertainty? Can i designate it with something that I can not decipher but something that scares the hell out of me? It is certainly a testing time for myself. It is that transitional phase where the way I conduct myself would define my future course of actions. a moment, that may make me or destroy me. Is it right to shift the burden of responsibility onto the moment? would it not be worth an attempt to try and take care of the time on my own,in my own hands?

May be I have not understood life until now! May be I have never given it a full chance? May be I have not lived it the way I should have been doing it? Let me give myself a chance. Let me for once decide that I am not going to be at the mercy of others for my own happiness. let me decide and prioritize what makes me happy.

Searching for relevant movies to show in a seminar, I find life of a common man and more of a woman much more interesting to the public eye. if it has been the subject of such scrutiny since ages, across mediums, why is it that we continue to lead a similar life? why is it that only strife, agony and conflict become a matter of discussion? Those who document, are free from maligns? Those who document are evolved and pure?