Roots

Showing posts with label dedications. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dedications. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 27, 2021

This will be Remembered

Why are people surprised?
If in 2002 
You could run your hands 
Under the tap
Dry it off on a saffron towel
And seat yourself
Nonchalantly on your seat of power
Why not today
Then it was the blood of hundreds
And now it is of thousands
Rinse, repeat 
They ask
How can you sleep at night
The fools!
Haven't they understood by now
The fetters of normal humanity
Do not hold you
You snore at night!
Why in the name of current Indian hell
Are people even surprised? 
-
Chandni Girija
April 27, 2021

Day 27 of 30 | 30 Poems in 30 Days | National Poetry Writing Month #napowrimo

Lost my former classmate and hostel-mate of three years. Had pledged to send out hope and positivity in the closing of this writing month. But Charu's news has shaken many of us. 

Thursday, September 3, 2015

I Met The Dog

My feet moved on
Groping aimlessly
In a world dripping blue
Darker than the ocean
But vast as it

Fangled thought bubbles
Rose and burst
Rose and burst
Firing the senseless
Cacophony in my ears

I bled grey
Darker than the fog
But dense as it

The air was glass
Solid, impenetrable
I gasped and gasped
And then sighed smilingly
Yes, soon…
Soon I told myself!

Then I met
I met this dog
With a half-gnawed face
A missing ear
And a gashed chest

We met on the road
Me, lost
It, resolute
Our gazes converged
And left me aghast

I wondered, beseechingly
Oh, why go on?
On with such misery?
The dog just smiled
From its mangled mouth
And on it went
Where its purpose beckoned

On I went too
But the dog’s tail
Wagged in my head
If it had to see
What colour the world be?
Red?
Of anger, of hurt, of misappropriation?
Or black?
Of defeat, of finality, of nothingness?
I think it was yellow
Bright or faint, I don’t know
A yellow
Of hope

If it was so
So stupidly resilient, that dog
If it could grit its teeth
And walk on,
Why, oh why
Should I be so wise?

If the dog could survive
I could do better
I could create!
Bit by bit,
But build something
Different and away
From this non-entity, my life!
No, no, no…
Destruction was easy
Way too easy
I could do better!

I picked the crystal
Buried in my bag
The nectar of death
Twinkled in the sunshine
I threw it away
And...
Yellow, yellow, yellow
I chanted,
Yellow, yellow, yellow...

- Chandni Girija
(Exhorted by TISS Counselling Centre, Dedicated for 'World Suicide Prevention Day - Sep 10')

Friday, May 2, 2014

The Leap

Long ago, in a dew-dipped time, I was born, a thought, in my mother's mind. She nourished and cherished me, and finally, I was born labouring against entropy, against gravity, against sunlight. And yet, there I was, a gurgling jumble of words, naked before the stark light. I crawled, whinnied about. Slowly, I found my a grip. I found commas, semicolons and ellipsis. I found pronouns, adjectives, and conjunctions. I found the strength to move about, to explore and fight my way about. I also learnt happiness, in streaks of shade.
The hardest of my lessons was learning the full stop. And I am yet to learn it fully. But, I am on my way. My shape has formed, and my meaning is in the right direction.
Tomorrow, I shall be taking flight. To an island of dreams. An island where I shall be protected from the hard contours, and yet exposed to new alleyways. Where I could grow wider, lighter, more meaningful. Tomorrow, I shall be making the leap for my dreams.

Dedicated to a Jet Setter about to Make a Huge Leap in Life

Sunday, April 27, 2014

A Long Way to Walk

I scratch my beard
And burrow my eyes
Deep, brown, concerned
Yet twinkling
At the new turn
Posed by life

I took fifty such turns
Some carefully considered
Some flamboyant
But always striving
Towards a deeper me
A better me
A better world around me

The dogs of confusion
Hounded me
Yet the horses of passion
Pulled me
A charioteer, a passenger
I led, I followed

The mensa puzzle of life
Unravelled to me in bits
But my goal is clear to me
Clear as the day
As another bit reveals today
I am elated
Yet grounded

I reckon my life forces
And summon my oaky wisdom
To sustain the further distance
My fifty-first turn,
I am ready
To meet you
Arms open
Sure-footed
And laughing!!

Here, here, I come ...

(Dedicated to Prasad Chacko Sir, Director of Behavioural Science Centre, St. Xavier's College, Ahmedabad on his 51st birthday)