The Women who inspired me. Woman no.1

 My godmother 

My mom’s sister, i admire my godmother for her unconditional love and care .my mom and her sister was orphaned at a very young age ,my mom was 4  and aunt may be 7 or 8 .after their mom's death they were moved to their moms house and made stay there for some years. then they were taken and cared by their half brother later who was financially very secure at that time. They went to schools and were married at the age of 14.my aunt was arranged to marry her cousin itself. Who wasn’t smart enough to be the backbone of a family.so my aunt who wasn’t pretty enough to qualify those days matrimonial market and qualified as a smart girl was chosen for him.
     Years passed , my mom got married and  settled few miles away from her sister .my two elder brothers were born and then me .i heard mom say  when I was born we had a bad time. Dad was financially upset.no one was there to help my mom and her three children .all household chores,children,cooking everything was supposed to be done by mom with her weak health. my aunt came to our home, she enrolled and send her children with my brothersto their school and taken care of my mom and me. Without her, we wouldn’t have survived. it was just a start .a few years later my mom was diagnosed with cancer, those days cancer was a very rare fatal disease.my aunt took good care of my mom, me and my brothers ; regardless of her totally dependent children and husband she had. she was a tireless women.my mom fall sick constantly and have got hospitalized several times, every time my aunt will be there beside her  bed. last time i remember when mom had a surgery and aftereffects of it was horrible.we all were able to see how much pain she had .when we all want her to be cured my aunt said to us ,"dont tear her body anymore ,she cannot bear further" . no one else were closer like them. they barely talk and meet because of the distance of places they were planted. But they understood every gesture and stood close when they needed each other. They knew for them there is only them. That’s blood.

    My aunt was concerned about everyone around her. And so she did whatever little help she could. She visited every relative and kept family bonds bind. she was a true believer of Almighty.

recently, she said, “we should never expect our children to go wrong when they grow. Our children become what we expect and speak about them". This is just one example of her inspiring advises.

She never got rest. Four months ago she left this world leaving her sister and everyone in agony. for everyone else that was a peaceful death. just like her wish she left the world without giving anyone a chance to  care her .my mom said she left so early. life was unfaithful to her .she didn't get the care she deserved.two weeks before she passed away she started forgetting words while speaking .on the day she told me about that problem four days before she left, we all told her to relax.on the drive back home i spoke with my hubby about it,he told me that it may be starting of alzheimers,i couldn't even think about it.that was the maximum anyone expected . but she left before she forget her loved ones .her brain couldn't suffer anymore .
she is not the one who has to go unwritten .she  was such a powerful lady. May be god knew its better and more worthy for her to leave this world to take some rest, before going to heaven.

Last few years on women’s day I begin to write a note of women who inspired me. But couldn’t finish. sorry for my weak write up. Words are not enough to explain her either. When she was alive I couldn’t write about her or couldn’t let her know how much we loved her. I hope she knew. its always like that .my out-pour of some emotions are always late. Better late than never, isn’t it.

My Wedding.

It was the day i was blessed
I still fall in love with the memoirs of that day.
All the pampering and eyes upon me.
smiles and welcomes,
hiding the agony and anxiety of the change upcoming.
all the day the nerves kept them inside
but when its time to leave
tears swamped, words inside
in that was everything
to you mom.
Apology, thanking, love, everything to each other.
Behind I felt
a new hand of care,
holding my fingers tight
saying,
'nothing changes
its just me,
'm also there for u, always'.
my marriage made in heaven.

It is spring in the city of gardens.

Every spring is the only spring, a perpetual astonishment-Ellis peters

Very true isn’t it? I always have this perpetual astonishment, an everlasting amazement.

The spring trees and the random sprinkling of the rain do not let my pen rest in peace in the season. It is spring in Bangalore. Spring makes the time in between winter and summer look lovelier with flowers and sparrows. You will definitely take your sunglasses off to see the trees in their full blossom even in the heat. There are lots of famous gardens in Bangalore, but then again these flowering trees await the eyes in every tiring corner of this busy city.

Tabebuia is the tree which is mostly seen in fullest in this season. Tabebuias or ipe trees or trumpet trees are pink, purple, violet, yellow and white. The tree takes after an oak tree and the flower of the neelakurinji flowers which blooms ones in twelve years in shola and Nilgiri Mountains. And also like the sour cherry which is worlds desired spring tree. What more they could be like!!  The chirping sparrows add more beauty to them.

Other flowering trees of Bangalore in different seasons are like red African tulip resembles tulip, violet jacaranda, yellow Indian laburnum which is the regional flower of Kerala. Cork tree, gulmohar all worth a watch. These flowers took my breath all the time I see them.

"A small house under the tabebuias

With sparrows nesting in them

Chirping to wake me up from sleep and naps.

Purple pink yellow violet and white

And the little brownie birds on branches……

What a pretty dream can I have

When the spring is in the air

And ‘m on my rocking chair

The splendour of spring and sparrows."

Have you ever been to an old market place under the trees in spring? if not , if possible try going to Jayanagar 4^th block in the early morning .take a leisure walk around the old complex building ,have a seat on the cement bench under the purple ipe trees . Observe the morning prospering in a natural way. a cup of coffee and  newspaper will also be a good idea. U can see shining colors of fresh fruits and vegetable in the market.

Bangalore throughout a year have a fair climate to live in. though the sunshine is a little harder its worth visiting the city this season. ”spring is in the air”.

A Piece Of Creator's Art.

One lazy holiday morning, 
When I was a silent small kid
with all the mischiefs kept inside
wanted to climb the small hill
nearby my aunt's dwelling.


Those untouched red rocks were calling me 
it read my restless mind plea
"what is there over you
i could only see the sky blue 
when i peek through the window'
there the pretty white and yellow flowers
hugging the rocks says; we possess each other, 
the unnamed unseen little beauty; 
i would love to take a breath from you
want to kiss you 
nothing else which bothers your splendour.


I grabbed a hand of my companion
my childhood companion
Climbed and climbed 
I am there at last, 
I couldn't breath
the beauty of a land made my mind hover
its heaven or may be its broken foyer.


The golden grasses aslant in the wind
and few trees old and strong on background.
and an antique piece of men's art
a half wrecked building halt
yet another tenure
named and seen everywhere.


year and years passed 
am still amazed of that beauty of creation
the creator's hand is always perfect.

My Wish.

My wish,

i wished to be a lover;

Lover of words and letters.

I wanted to read

and once i loved

i read my brother’s junk books i got from the attic.

I read.

some other time later

when i really craved for books

i combed the  libraries

i took some , they had good names, titles;

i read.

but was immovable

with the words, phrases and meanings

i wanted to toss them ,but i never did so,

 something changed ,

the love for someone else's words.

I had pain,

i cried.

It didn’t heal

i had pain, fear, questions

and more than enough

more than enough for a teen.

I wrote;

my pain ,passion , fear, everything

then i felt my mind;

clear and content.

I loved rain,

murmurings of leaves in rain,

i smelled i felt i grabbed,

i wrote.

it was my time with a fire inside

i wrote.

that was it, the best of all time.

Now,

i don’t know what i do

There may be a spring inside.

But feel useless

Like a lifeless tree

hands up asking sun for a rebirth

and feet grounded, asking soil for a regeneration.

oh my creator,

 i also want,

i want my renaissance.

......those old paddy fields.

Its a painful feel,
i know,
everyday i pass
losing something
which belongs to the best part of my life
those paddy field,
where i saw the seasons change
the lush green babies
and the heaps of golden hays.
And those tiny flowers,
born after the first summer rain;
are the most prettiest of world.
The small fishes
caught by hands and towels.

It is painful,
there are no kids in the summer fields
making clay pots ,
plucking wild berries from fence shrubs.
and no loud noises of children playing in the heat,
no grazing cows,
no narrow streams of springs.
There is only the wheeze
of cross cultured trees,
and smells ashes of burned paddy.
things changed
but still from the dark ;
frogs cry like calling the death towards....

A lovely summer morning walk..........

A tiring long night
usually fed with good sleep
but that day eyes just kept awake
maybe of,
the frames flashed
far from memory;
a useless teen
a colored childhood,
pain and complain,
or like always
an unreasoned thought.

I could see the streaks of light just born,
through my half curtained window
squeaking tiny birds in the purple sky.
cycle bells
newspaper shouts
speedy morning footsteps
and the smell of a new summer morning.

"awake"
"eyes and thoughts clashed
between i lost my sweet dark maze"
a warm hug;
eyes smiled childish
being kissed lovely
fresh and fresh
without even a sleep.

A pair of our favorite clay cups
seemed waiting
for their hot tea
and to have lip kissed.

"too early"
"lets walk in the mist"
i loved it
i always love to walk with him
as i love a mere presence of him,
the robbed looks,
i love to walk on his legs;
hands round on his waist
up to the door,
he is the best gift i ever had.

we walked through the narrow roads,
houses disciplined
with a plot just covering their home
and lots of flowers in that limited place
bougainvillea ,shoe flowers, rose,
more and more
yellow and purple ones.

Mist wet roads black,
and the sky;
red and violet
with the fully bloomed
old big trees.

morning fresh clean market
the vegetable trolley men
keeping their goodies neatly
green yellow red
veggies shows their shine
reflects the sky.
the bookshop just opened
smells the new paper bits.

its a special feel
to see a very crowded old street
in the mist,
with few old men jogging,
and some of them sharing their news n walks
with a cup of hot filter coffee and
fresh newspaper
on old cement benches
beside the road.

the purple flowered trees
the pensioners and the very old streets
the cement benches
the antique trolleys
and
a silent sign of summer.