The trash in our brains

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"I was writing and writing

 but I just couldn't complete 

the exam 

And then the bell rang

And  I opened my eyes

 And lo! it was a dream."

How often 

I've heard these words

I just can't say:

Which means,

 You must have heard it too.

Even after they settle

with good jobs:

Different scenes

 haunt

 people for years :

Some of fear,

Some of shame
And embarrassment

Appearing in dreams

Confirming their presence

In the subconscious

Minds of people.

Shouldn't there be

 An answer,a cure?
Tell me if you know

Even others 

would like to hear 

Of a solution,

An end

                                          Those who wouldn't
                                           go for counselling
                                       And shy away from declaring
                                         That something bothers them;

Perhaps they should

 sit still 

Before a mirror

And speak

To themselves
positive facts
That the brain has not noted

Everyday
Instilling confidence

Writing themselves

Invisible 

  Love letters
                                                                                                                                                                             

  Till ultimately

 The message  

Reaches the soul.

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P.S- Any other suggestions  are most welcome for public good.

The joyous song of a victorious rose plant

                                                                                                                  I 'm the third  plant in the row
From three sides
Yet at the apex
And  the easiest to approach
And the easiest to destroy.

My master's son any morning
Loves to take my face
In his hands
And ruffle it thoroughly
Till my petals  fall off
And my bare head remains
Dancing drunkenly.

Oh that I had the voice of humans
To let my master know
                                                                             
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                                                                                     That I too had done my duty
                                                                                     And produced
                                                                                     A healthy beautiful rose.

Again I try and produce
A healthy beautiful bud.
This time the gates are opened
And a trailer loaded with stone
Moves backward overlooking
That it was stepping on my toes.

And when it turns to move
My head hooks on to its opening
And  rips off as it moves.
The lady comes next morning
Looking for a rose
To match her red dress:
My heart cries thinking
How my bud would've matched
Her dress much better
Than the one she picked.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            All free downloads.com

One day the air seemed corroded
And stifled my breadth.
 I struggled and puffed
But turned brown instead
I looked at me with horror
And awaited my end.

The gardener had some pity
And left a tiny shoot -
As he chopped off the rest
I hoped for the best.

Now my arms are growing
And my head too
I feel strong and healthy
Confident too.


Never give up, children
Someday,someone'll hear your voice
And lift you on a pillar
And all the world rejoice.

Do all women miss their old homes?

The call to eat Briyani -             Free digital photos. net

"Come soon, akka, (elder sister) why do you take so long ?" my  sister called. She was sitting on a swing in a park and eating from a large plate. " Here, take a plate from there and there's Briyani here. How long I've been looking  for you!"she said.
(Briyani is a special dish made by cooking rice and meat together).

There was an empty swing by her side - and the place was shady. So I happily ran forward. 

And then I woke up in my bed and realised that we weren't small and unmarried any more. My sister herself was married and with two children. I felt a sense of loss and loneliness. Not that I missed the ready made Briyani. I was never a good eater and had to be constantly reminded that I had still to finish my meal. Interesting table conversations always got me distracted from the business of eating.

The changes -

"So what if we're married, we're happy with our new families anyway," I tried to reason out. In some ways I have more freedom than before. At my old home I was just one of the siblings. Here I am the queen of the family. As my father was very conservative we weren't even introduced to all the guests of the family. In fact we had to avoid going that way until the guests had gone. Here  I  have a fair part in determining the extent of relationship  we ought to  maintain with each family.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                          Free digital photos. net                                                                                                                                  
Unlike most women, particularly working women,                                                                                         I've had some sort of help one way or the other so I didn't have to sweat it out that much.really. Am I justified then in missing my old home? 

The main difference -
Of course, at one's old home we only had to bother about our book work.Which is much better than bothering about the ingredients that go into each person's plate and the comments that might follow. Foolish though it sounds, there was some kind of security - we could be 'we' at our old home and accepted as such. Here we have to be aware of the different relationships and act accordingly, even suppressing our points of view for the sake of peace. We are reminded here that blood is thicker than water and so we have to wait patiently till 'eyes' are opened and reality is understood.

But here and there we find soothing relationships which is to us like the choicest of ice creams on a sunny day.


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