Friday, October 10, 2014

Moments and Memories — A psychological narration

               
“Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness.

It took me years to understand that, this too, was a gift !"

                                        -Mary oliver  

Up in the middle of the night ,being unable to sleep,I stand near the  window of my room.I see the full moon coruscate in pride,as the fluffy clouds put forth their endless effort to cover up for its faulty spots,perchance no matter what , this night will never cover up for my faults like those sympathetic clouds up in the vast night sky. Also I could take the duvet for cover while the tick-tock of the clock lulls me to sleep,somehow tonight this lullaby won’t sing me to sleep, instead it will lure me into that old trap of memories that will act as the salt on my wounds, failing my wit with the freshness in my wounds as I reacall the fateful night.
Yes , it has been a year now and I must reconcile with this deceitful night that will sing me the melody of pain. Was this not the night that had kept me awake the previous year in excruciating agony! And will that agony return tonight to safely set ashore those lost memories of you as I feel that connatural aura weave the air around me as I let open the window to perceive that aura of pain again, to hear that melody of pain yet again, thinking with a tinge of hope that you too would,if not for me then for your own soul that lives in the lane of my memories , let open the gates for this journey, circumstantial particularly for tonight.I was never afraid to end my life after you walked my exit but I did not hold my breath just because I could not dare to let your memories , not a single memory to slip out of my soul integrated with your beckoning heart
Hence I am living but with the wish to die,with the curtains of your endearing face before my brooding eyes.
Hopeful of your return, well mindful that you would never look back, I wait in vain. The reflection of the self hurts when I spot out the moist eyes,but I resist!
And as I see now, gently the dense clouds enshrine the luminosity of the moon, with beseeching eyes,I hear the spatter of the rain against the verdant field of my house, as I inhale the redolent odour of the clammy mud. As I let the moments pass I do feel the night taking toll of my heaviness. And now the incessant showers rhythmically lash the vale. Till now it looked as if only a few clouds were mocking at the inability of others to burst but all of a sudden , this excessive deluge bespeaks the sympathy each cloud has for the other which suffice to spin an alluring environment to give vent to the emotions without being ashamed as I feel the crystal beads line my lashes,all set to drown my existence, satisfied that each time I drown my existence a part of me rests with your heart and with each attempt to expunge myself, this night reminds me that you shall never allow me to lose the purpose to live. Tonight as I try to iron that wrinkled page of your life that you left with me, I know God must be smiling at you and you must be smiling softly back at Him, trying to suppress that boiling volcano of tears that steams to burn the memories there and flood my moments here.
I let out a wistful sigh , confused whether this will relieve me or console my miserable direction of thoughts that fail to impede the moisture to wet my smouldering cheeks . Defying  the curfew of resistance I allow my emotions to overpower me as the struggle with your treasured memories will severely defeat me tonight , hence I try to be at peace in recollecting your words once spoken out of deep bonding and affection, I am forced into an abyss of reminiscence with the black hole of night dissecting and dissolving every second that now shall be history. With such intense nostalgia pain would soon be heard as a language in words written with the translucent ink of our tears. Oh! You have somehow set the wheel frantically twirling into a scintillating flashback of time in my mind that reels in the radiance of those but un-noticed moments that tonight hold a consequential relevance in your heart and in my heart too!
Not readily but tonight I shall accept my laconic and curt temperament to be your criminal, hence I feel deliriously tempted to walk to  this altar that you have laid for me so that I might acquit myself of those allegations , indictments and accusations that ruthlessly jab my conscience every moment. Not that I do not think of you the other days and nights but I have set this night exclusively to acclaim the right to be convicted in your court of eternity as this night marks the holocaust not put on any records but permanently carved out on the two cloistered hearts in a veined rough texture. And before any decree is passed , I shall find myself imprisoned behind the bars of your memories again , a chastiment good enough to shatter my resistance shown. As the minutes crumple in hours , my bones out of fatigue crave for comfort and I drag my weary body to be laid back on my velvety and warm bed on which as I rest contradicting my nobility feels bleak and prickly tonight to deprive me of any comfort and I keep on tossing from one side to the other just when your radiant ,ochre eyes meet my sleep deprived, tired eyes and your lovely face greets me warmly as you smile at me in peace easing me of my listlessness,but alas! Frozen in that captured moment caged in this intricately designed wooden frame on my side-table, accentuating under the illumination of the table lamp as if violently blazing to challenge me to remove this last remain of yours which I have held dearer to my own breath since a year. Taking the wooden frame in my hands ,I stare into your deep eyes as if they would just now twinkle to let out a drop of tear to skim down your florid cheeks. Yes this face once would comfort me of all the prosaic distress and I would float into a state of awe as I recall your dulcet voice that once would call after me, the curve of your rubicund lips that would blossom into a gentle smile making the wilted flowers to bloom again, your angry grimace on my senseless natter, your sweet fragrance that would dazzle my senses and of course the radiance of your deep, ochre eyes as if inviting me to jump in to assess its depth……..all but is now a delusion I visualize to betray my current state of helplessness for if I remember those cherished moments of  delight and ecstasy, I also do not forget this melancholic night when I stood traumatized at the doorway like a mute spectator watching you leave my world forever!
The outcome of such a vacillating bond after some more time is this:- Tired and heavy eyes thirsty for tears and a heavy, reticent heart lamenting the flood of my inexplicable grief that washes away my sensibility.
They say that a broken heart is the hardest to repair…uh! But to repair a heart that does not wish to be saved is an impossibility which tonight I realize after floundering tirelessly for a year now watching the days unfold their vagueness, there is a void without you in my life and the special place that I have devotedly assigned to you can never be engrossed by anyone else,not in life!
But as I ramble on with myself this night, squirming from side to side clasping this wooden frame close to my chest I wonder do you ever yearn to return back to me, do you ever hear me scream just to repudiate  the voice of silence you have gifted me with? Do you ever feel this intense longing I have still and will this ever fade away? Are things ever going to get better? Or with the accustomed life I will have to delude myself with the abstraction of “destiny”. As these questions pound my head, with great care I place the wooden frame back on my side-table and I push the duvet aside. Getting out of the bed, I stand on my heels but with difficulty, I drag  myself to the window again. As I peep out of the window nothing but a stretch of darkness awaits me as I feel the rain drops trip over my cheeks,perhaps a temptation for my eyes!
Although with remorseful decisiveness,I must find a panacea to cure my contrition as I look around, this has to be done but tonight! With an impulsive movement of my arm I twitch  to bolt and close the window firmly and then I draw the curtains over, ambiguous as to why I did it.

With an air of protest,I fight my own quixotic self as I manage to crawl back into my bed and pull the warm duvet over my head as I give in to my helplessness and submit to some unseen force,hopeful that this cursed night will after all now bestow some mercy and cradle me to sleep,thus I close my heavy eyes…..

With the first streak of light entering my room through the crevice between the curtains ,my eyes open to the harmonious chirping of the birds. The rain must have stopped as soon as the tryst with that fateful night must have ended. I rub my eyes to wipe away the doleful giddiness of the previous night, stretching my arms I heave away the duvet and turn to get out of the bed , as my gaze shifts to the other side, my eyes meet the stillness of your eyes in the wooden frame and I freeze again……….!  


       Num Hai palkein teri aey mauj-e-hawa raat ke saath                     

       Kya tujhey bhi koi yaad aata hai barsaat ke saath? 

                     -Parvin Shakir

Moist lashes lined with crystal beads oh the spurt of gale as night dawns upon

To you, also, does this rain recoups the distant memories of someone long back gone?

       -(Transcreation) Sana Shah

 .                               -Sana shah


Tuesday, October 7, 2014

Melody of pain

                MELODY OF PAIN
Oh do not let the fingers glide over                               the keyboard tonight
For the music you compose will pierce me
To the depths again
Do not let the lyrics be hummed
In your voice that lures
Me into affliction; I have felt enough pain
And now this- melody of pain.
You invite me to grace this evening and
I can only let out a sigh
When the tunes are set, I hear…….
The jangling of the bells
The scales you adjust; ready to sing
But such a melody- of pain
The symphony composed will soon tantalize
My senses ;to stupor again
Your music fills in my glass-but this music
Is devoid of harmony
Vibes of your solo performance alone
Would break me enough
And now you are here smiling  with your
Grand orchestra too!
On the stage you have set instruments
To oscillate in reminiscence
Your quaver tolls the bells of memory and
Auditorium pulsates like strings
The chords attuned to the notes of nostalgia
As you drift with the tempo
Then let me hear this melody of pain but
Only tonight with the stars
Tapping to your rhythms,dissolving softly
The time in the space.
You will not spare a chance to jab me
With the dagger of lyrics.
Melancholic violins play the tunes of
The intense despondency
This aura of grief will hover around
The audience; we absorb
The wistful notes that bewitch the hearts
And stupefy the souls.
Music bleeds from your veins; your dulcet
Voice enshrines your shrills
Our money’s worth with your bow ,with
Tears tinkling your lashes
And yes-the audience integrates in your
Sublime songs- of my loss!
And with them I too shall nod and clap
Avidly on this melody of pain.

----sana shah

Monday, September 29, 2014

Flood

          Flood
Come and Witness how the vale is set to drown
How the streets submerge under water brown
See the something turn into the ultimate nothing
Was this what the rains along with  it were to bring

Shrills,shouts ,screams echo through the vale
Ruins will be seen by those who know to sail
To wash away the impurities along with the pure
To wash off purgatory was this the only cure?                   

Tell us  how shall we start;those so left behind
Shall we adopt the story of   “country of the blind"
Structures erected will soon collapse in the lanes
Will this land suffice that so dying not remains

Tears will flow to invite another brutal flood
Feelings will shape out the castles of mud
Helpless spectators, oh!What else could we be
O world,You too all mute!If only you could see....

_--Sana Shah

Monday, August 18, 2014

Vile


Are you there, old friend??

with your eyes in your mouth
those glassy chrome balls...
bitter and cold
like snake venom...
they say you have changed
ah! change....??
i refuse to believe such lies...
your heart is blue...
your blood colorless
in those emerald irises
i've seen shadows of ghosts
black...charcoal black

no...
i refuse to believe you have changed
i refuse to believe such lies...
.
.

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

tired

in this hide n seek of joy and sorrow..
i wish tears some smile to borrow...

trapped in d illusion of this conscience...
i seek refuge from the monster of conscience...

here sorrows long for a tear...
there smiles are accompanied by fare...

locked by d unsolved chains of destiny...
paralysed life in the ethics of bestiny...

born for the melodies of tragedy...
stucked like a quarrel in comedy...

beauty longs  to be inherited by the autumn...
sky falls to touch d bottom..

i request time to take me away a while...
let life show its existance in a live style...

preaching the god of pain here...
slowly my grave calls me there...

all i realise for sure one thing now..
i am tiered for more i cant bow..

where rains are rejected by land..
thr in nirvana alone i stand..

areej

Thursday, July 24, 2014

Tales to Tell

..and black birds
Fly over static waters
In a sky spread
With invisible traps

...and the narcissus,
Stamped over by giant feet,
Looks over the banks at
The ghastly image of its
Heart-shaped leaves

...and the mellow breeze
Whispers its tale of woes
To the ever-hearing ears
Of the rustling trees

...and the flailing leaves
Fall; committing suicide
Unable to bear any grief

...and the dreamers dream
Their comatose dreams

Yet, I can't stop writing
About giant cockroaches
In my closet
And monkeys on the mango tree
Picking lice

My Best Friend

my best friend
walks with a strange gait
he looks like
a scare-crow on
steroids...
eloping from a field 

Scope or hope?

“No, you better opt for medicine, here we have less scope in humanities dear",said the mother to her daughter. The daughter being hopeless of any opportunity surrendered to the circumstances. All are not mad enough to follow their heart and chase their dreams.As now people see more of the scope than relying  on hope.
Now the trend rather prestige point is to choose that field fr a career where we see a wider scope. Anyone who pops this argument of career selection based on its respective scope appears hopeless to me.Overlooking your passion and interest and simply flowing with the stream is so mediocre in itself.
Imagine how in ancient times man was just a food gatherer....well if that time he had also thought that there is no scope to become a food producer anyhow then what would have been the conditions today!But research and exploration are integral part of human nature... You see a little child who is always curious to know little things from the glowing if bulb to the entry of any strange face in his house...everything fascinates a child because he is not exposed to mediocrity, he is purely natural not a victim of imposed circumstances.Then why do we look for so called SCOPE today?
Do we not have enough hope to rest our self belief on? Are we not better than the early men and even more equipped, then why can't we explore more in our fields of interest ? It is time we accept that world was not created on scope rather it was hope and it is this hope that makes the world to go on. Umeed pe duniya qaayam hai! Lest we forget!!
If you choose things on their scope then you may never innovate the new things,you can't improvise!
Scope is for the cowards who are scared to take risks,who only want safety even though we are aware that this world is an illusion, and everything shall pass anytime...we are actually unaware of future,yet we use the weapons of Scope to declare that we are masters of future! What a pity! Remember if we honestly pursue the morally correct things and excel in our areas of interest automatically the scope for it will be generated provided we choose HOPE for excellence and not SCOPE!
Remember we are not masters of tomorrow but we can only hope for tomorrow.... Rest you decide...
    HOPE or SCOPE?

        -  Sana Shah

Friday, July 18, 2014

Few Understand

Mark or deny my thoughts; it's up to you
But I am me nor for you I will be new
For the umpteenth time I so remind you
My thoughts are not thine for they are true
The message to convey you all already knew
But the words understood will be really few

-Sana shah

Impossibility!

It's said that “ Rome was not built in a day”
Haha....or:
“The builders were slow" is what here we say!
As impossibility is nothing in upstreamrowers' way
-Sana Shah

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Absentia

come...
pass the wine
of drifting days
from your lips to mine
close your eyes
...and drift away

The Dark One

He, my dark one
asked me
to drink from
a poisoned well
I drank....
and
became Invincible....

Sunday, July 13, 2014

How the world.....

How the world was forced upon the heart
“To err is human”, to err is also a sin
Locking in Chains,ye left to the win
I being a sinner,here hence confess

Freedom of mind invited the warrant
Freedom of soul is transgression to law
Freedom to dream in itself is a flaw
Freedom of heart is a step towards gallows

If this be errors, then define the Right
Excess rains is flood,excess heat is drought
In extremity then how will the seed sprout?
Cage for the world,for me is iron put to waste

Preaching gospels of the eternal truth
When truth itself is all the time locked
Those trying the key on fire had walked
If burnt with truth, yet freedom attained !
                     -Sana Shah

Saturday, July 12, 2014

Country Where Begging is Banned

We have endured the noise
Of the long days. We have walked
The nights through the black haze.
On one solstice we have yearned for
The nightly hour, on the other one we
Have prayed for the night to be over.
And on the equinox, toiling in the
Barren fields under the white sun, we
Have waited for the sun to set
Tearing the meniscus of the horizon.
In toil and despair our days have passed.
We have waited enough with no hope to last.

Looking at the threshold that separates
Us from the crystal sky that stands
Lofty...we have sighed in our cages
Of misery. Dreams-yours and ours are still
So same. What can hold these longings
From leaving us inane? Visions carry to
Us glimpses of faraway lands. But, when
We open our eyes all we possess are
These rough scorched hands.

We are hopeless people, tired of searching
For what to believe in. When there is no
Virtue for our lot how can there be any sin?
We can’t mumble the same prayer now,
“God have mercy on our state”. We can’t
Gather our faith again and decide to wait.
Between the heaven and the earth, we move
Carrying with us our own wails. And
When we are gone we leave vestiges
Of no trails. We have seen the dead among
Us who vanished un-buried in the sand
In this country where begging is banned. . .

Thursday, July 10, 2014

ROWING UPSTREAM

The map so being torn a million times
But countless dreams mastered cartography
The masses abstained from such crimes
Being mere witness to classic photography

Not caring for the status or the roots
All night with stars,all day with sun
Gazing for infinite, plucking the fruits
Slowing down when others try to run

Not taking in what from outside is fed
Doesn't conclude with thee being wrong
Hearing,not listening what is being said
Treading your own path even if so long

Those Tiny crystal corners ever sufficed
For the mad heart to beat with a dream
Sufferings of passion is a possession priced
For the few who dare but to row upstream!

     -sana shah

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

The four incidents

                
“Will you read my palm also?”,she asked me.                 A couple of years back I with my friends and teachers had come on a school picnic.I then had read about palmistry and thus was trying the same on my friends when a teacher on duty saw my group.She was known as a very strict teacher but that day she was at peace as she sat against me and placed her hand in front of me.I got nervous as she repeated
“will you read my palm also?”.
I asked her that what  did she want to know and she softly answered,
“just one thing:will my kids be loyal to me?”.
And this question of hers left me awestruck,it sounded so touching that I could not say a word further.Her concern for her kids even at that place left me stunned and then I thought that my mom too must be worried for me the same way,infact all our mothers are,isn’t it?But how often do we realize this,may be on mother’s day?
Following this incident a couple of months later I had to accompany my mother to her work-place.In the lunch time mom’s colleague had got a shawl on order for my mom’s friend.The shawl looked really expensive with a heavy embroidery as she un-folded the shawl length wise for us to see and I wondered what a spend-thrift lady she was!But then she asked us something that moved me to the core.She asked,
“will this shawl look elegant on my daughter?”
And I realized that she was not a spendthrift lady but only a caring mother.
On that very day later I went to the canteen and placed my order.In the meanwhile I observed a lady in her mid-thirties,but the weird thing was that she was singing a nursery  rhyme over her cellphone. I later came to know that she was working there and recently had separated from her husband.And she worked to bring up her two years old son to whom she was singing the rhyme.
Nothing  unique yet in a way strange!Even in her absence she made her presence felt to her son,the delicate responsibility of a mother,how often to we thank her for this?And how often do we try to return the same?
A few months later it happened when my mother and I went to pick up my brother from the school.To our surprise he was not at the said place,we got worried and mom was all red in face. We searched the school area and at last found him at the back gate of the compound. Mom scolded him for his irresponsible attitude and in annoyance my brother shouted,
“mama don’t scold me here atleast.”
And a man passing by glanced at my brother firmly and said
“Boy,you won’t understand- she is a mother! A MOTHER!”
These four incidents are not something unique,but a regular stuff,yet how often do we try to understand the emotions behind them? I am not trying to force any moral lecture on you but how often does it happen that our parents scold us and we get angry over them,yet do we realize the sheer concern for their kids behind every word.And the incidents I mentioned,after being a lucky witness to them all I or anyone like me will say:
‘Maa tujhe salaam!’
And  the day we learn to sincerely love and respect our mothers  and return the gratitude towards them will be the day when we will learn to love and serve our motherland also and is this not the spirit of  patriotism every responsible global citizen should have? Just think and the answer is within you!

                               -SANA  SHAH

Tuesday, July 8, 2014

she

                                                            she
piercing through the darkness light does appear
breaking all the boundaries night disappears..

i can smell hr presence here around
but still to wait i am bound...

my life on lips till her giggle in airs'
this knot of ours is now tied for years...

with her every step she drives me to live more
till she is within i fail to desire more..

i am living till i am waiting for i am thinking
i don"t mind roads for that matter they are connecting..

her existance is the proof of my survival
her being makes my being mortal..

she is within but tell her to come fast
being my soul i need her to long last..

should she arrive or i should wait for her?
now plz don't hush and leave rest upon her...........

areej

Sunday, July 6, 2014

Describing Myself

How do you describe something
...so sourly plagued of heart...
...so calculatingly full of deceit...
...so devilishly bleak of soul...
...so fiendishly self-centred...
I told you

Describing myself is not easy...

Friday, June 27, 2014

Descendant


(I)
You were my first
Teacher, the only one...
You’d read from the
Scriptures strange words
In a guttural, glottal voice
And, I, like a Calendar
Parrot-fashioned it all
Never daring to ask for
Meanings
You’d kneel before
Dressed idols. And I too
Would prostate my
Half-naked body on cold stone
Shivering like a thread
Suspended in a cruel storm
Yet, I never saw my God

(II)
With your old blinding eyes
You dreamed of young men dying
In wars, no one anymore knew
The reason for being fought
Poisoned by the milk
Of your dry breast
Cradled in a cot of lies
My lullabies were tales of death

(III)
Caged under a painted sky
I slept my dreamless sleep
Under the canopy of stars
That never twinkled
You set fire to the
Sylvan of my wild dreams
‘Never go near the fire’
That was the first Gospel
I was taught

(IV)
It was always your life
Your ‘right’s’
Your ‘wrong’s’
Your unfulfilled dreams


...your epitaph on my grave