Swings of a rhapsodic mind

My morning walks take me towards villages with paddy fields on both sides of the road, this is the time of the year when I see the paddy fields barren. The harvest has been cleared off and there are little birds who have made it home. The green of the bamboos have been casting a soothing canopy around and the mango trees have started to flower. The ripe sugarcanes send forth perfumed vigour. This is March and in my country, it marks a period of transition, while i have been packing my winter wear neatly, it's not summer yet to pack my blanket. Just like the last bit of dried patches of skin fraying at the terminal ends beaten by the lack of moisture, I get beaten between the urge to hold on and the necessity to let go. I hold on to the warm memories of winter, my heart flutters at the onset of the short lived spring. I let go off the chill of winter from my heart while I welcome Spring pouring my heart out for all those Bihu songs which vibrate in the air. In midst of all these, I

There is a man in the vicinity who in his ordinariness remains an unique being. I often cross paths with him and most of the days I see him carry buckets of water. It seems he has been measuring his life through those water buckets. He is always dressed in tatters but  has those pair of eyes which reflect his innocence. I can see a sufferer in him. I have always wanted to know about him but never could master the courage to confront him, I didn't want him to grow conscious of my presence so I kept on observing him. It's been days of crossing his path on my way to the college and  he has begun to pass on smiles of recognition. He came up to me some days back  and inquired if I wanted to buy "dhekia" ( edible fern) from him and he wanted just five rupees for it. I bought it paying him some amount extra and he thanked me profusely. I could see his eyes twinkle and that filled my heart with a strange sense of satisfaction. I got to know about his story from the villager

A wail escapes from the bottom of my belly But as I part my lips, it escapes as a frozen breath Speak, the teacher demanded! A throbbing heart, I could hear it ringing deep. The world would trample you in its way, my mother sighed. She could see the bruises of the cane on my palms. Why couldn't you tell the answers when you knew it by heart? she wanted to know. But, Maa I did try..I did , I stammered. My tears choking my half eaten words She pulled me closer, wiped my tears and as she freed my hair from those tightened plaits She spoke of a rule which I was to abide by. You need to win over words, you need to make those words a game Ah I said, I do try but I have to struggle hard They ring in my mind but don't escape my lips She smiled at me and said you need to trust yourself! Ah, I said I would try. And I did try over these years But they still ring in my mind forming loops of their own And the moment I open my lips, they die And I try again from the start

She felt the world had dropped dead, there was an unexplainable pain in her lower belly. She gasped as she felt the pangs of pain which throbbed her heart. She wailed for help and lost consciousness. They rushed her to the hospital, her water had broke, she was to deliver a child. Her life was going to change, she had longed to hold her baby in her arms for the last eight months, she finally was going to be a mother. The thought had filled her each day with immense pleasure. Moments of reflection coupled by hours of pain was more painful than death, she felt like she were dead but she couldn't give in, the doctor's words reached her ears, "Fight for your baby, try a little more", he said. She put all the energy she had and finally the baby popped out of her womb. She felt dead and alive at the same time. She bit back her lower lip, and lay still as she heard hushed tones. She was in a trance, she couldn't make out what was going on. She lay there until the though

There are nights which make her cringe, The woman in her detests every ounce of pain. She feels the pain rise up her belly hitting each nerve, The stiffled sobs and a surging disgust. All in the name of a woman is what they say. She bleeds through time in regular odd days It comes unannounced kicking it's way. And days of hushed tones with taboo attached. Her touch defile, her shadow impure, She gets caged in her own little den. Look out they say, you need to accept it. You can't whine nor put up a show Shame, honour , chastity : Remember the catch words Their speech rings hollow She can feel each bit of her body in pain She hears nothing, she cares for nothing She bleeds but that's not a choice And she decides to rise She lays shame thread bare as "whisper" no longer comes home cloaked in newspapers!

When the orange evening meets the blue of the sky My heart leaps a thousand miles all at once. I free my hair and let it run wild along with my heart My skin tingles in the warmth, And my heart becomes a fluttering butterfly. I stand there, there somewhere in the horizon I whisper to the passing wind to take me along to a distant land, Where I could cage this scene in my vision and never blink. The wind stops dead and whispers back, " come along!" I pack my bags , I hire a caravan, I leave back a thousand memories as I sail for a thousand more. I hold onto a few,  I let go a lot more. I blot the yellowing pages as I travel places. The world seems awake , life seems beautiful And I open my eyes and long for this dream, A gypsy in me dreams of it with open eyes!

It was a thunder, the lemon grove by her window was facing the wrath of the rough weather. She felt bad for the tree, it couldn't run to anyone for comfort. She had grown fearing thunders. The roaring sound sent chills down her spine. She took recluse in stuffing her ears with pillows but could that actually settle the dread she had in her heart! When it was time for her to leave home to join a boarding school, her mother talked to her. She feared that her daughter wouldn't be able to handle the wrath of a thunder. But she was mistaken, she proved to come out strong. It was a different thing that she couldn't catch sleep on such days, that her pillow soaked all her tears but she no more needed anyone to console her, she knew she could do it alone. It was once during the school hours when the darkened sky brought forth thunder and lightening. She was terrified. She had a window seat in the classroom and  could see vivid scenes reflected through glass panes. The teacher sa