My Poverty.

We are a poor country
And we like to hide it

We are poor people.
People who protect our women from ourselves.
We are poor mothers
Mothers who feed only our own, not other's

Poor brothers and poor sisters
Walking out, away, in times of need.
Poor fathers. Poor men
Trying their best to accumulate wealth.

And we are a country of dreamers
We like to fake it, even if to ourselves.
We dream of palaces and grandeur
While our neighbors live on the streets, homeless.

We buy our children a shopping mall,
Stacked with sunglasses, shoes, bags, accessories and what not.
Yet on our streets, every night, a child shivers to death
Prays for a blanket, a glass of clean water and bread.

But why do we care? We earned these comforts.  With our birth.
WE are the real India. Look within. You'll find a poorer soul.

The 'Luxury' of Wealth

What is wealth? I've often pondered over this question. Often questioned myself, about the use and the need for large amounts of income and wealth. Because, as I've learnt in the last few years, large amounts of wealth is not needed to live a fulfilling, comfortable life. But yes, maybe it is needed to live a more 'luxurious' life. Don't know how? Keep reading.

Large amounts of wealth can be used to buy a bag that costs over $1000 on average. And I'm not talking about a large, sturdy bag that can hold and protect things inside it. I'm talking about a small delicate thing that carries your phone, credit cards and maybe some cosmetics. Sometimes a diaper or two if you have a baby and thought about it before buying the bag. 

Large amounts of wealth can be spent on buying gold and diamonds. Now most of you know it, these are 'valuables' that do not provide, in value, anything more than decoration to the human body, directly. Beyond that, you could argue it is good 'investment' - and we will talk about this later. 

Large amounts of wealth can be used to throw a lavish party where you can wear your gold and diamonds and your little bag while your housemaid wears your discarded silk sari and serves the guests exotic wines made in a far-away land you have never thought of visiting.

Large amounts of wealth can be used to buy designer clothes that need to be dry-cleaned for $50 after every use.
Large amounts of wealth can be used to buy expensive, fast racing-cars that you will drive at peak hour to work.
Large amounts of wealth can be used to buy all the toys your child points at in the store.
Large amounts of wealth will help you open a mini apparel and accessories store in your walk in closet, with things you don't care about anymore, and won't sell to anyone.
Large amounts of wealth can make you make sure everyone knows you are the wealthiest of them all.
Large amounts of wealth can be flushed down the toilet after you wipe your ass with it.

Clearly, wealth can help you live a luxurious life. A wasteful luxurious life, to be precise. Because if you need to show you have enough wealth to not care about it, you will have to start showing you don't care about it, and the best way, in my opinion, is using anything upwards of a $10 bill to spit out your gum in. No?

I have no problem with people spending their money the way they like it. Different things give different people happiness and it's perfectly okay to find happiness in a small bag embellished with 2 letters, or maybe 1, or sometimes 3.

But how can you do it on planet earth, surrounded by so much poverty, so many people who you know could use that money to buy a year's worth of food supplies. How do you live 'luxuriously' right in front of the maid who has been requesting an advance of $100 for her daughter's school fee? How do you go about buying your children all those ridiculously over-sized toys while your distant relative is trying to put money together for a simple scooter to go to work everyday. How do you ignore everything? How?

Isn't there luxury in freedom? Isn't there luxury in education? Isn't there luxury in helping someone live a better, less painful life?

Why don't we show our wealth by educating the hundred girls who could use the money we spend on one daughter's 'Big Fat Destination Wedding?'

If it's perfectly okay to blow up $100,000 on hosting a wedding, then you should definitely not feel ashamed to declare that you are instead going to use that money for charity. No need to act humble. No need to be discreet. Say it to everyone, flaunt it like you flaunt your wealth. For it's way better than treating 100 varieties of dishes to a 1000 well-to-do people. Believe you me, you will definitely look like you are rich and don't care about your wealth. And it will take a long time for another 'wealthy' person to match your deed. After all, bad habits die hard - it will take a lot of effort for them to stop wasting their wealth in the name of luxury. And until then, you will be a star in your social (and business) circle. Try it!

And this song. I couldn't stop myself from posting here ;)

The way we live

Some lies are not lies
And the same is true for some truths.
Some thoughts are thoughts you don't own
And these things,  sometimes, you never know.  

Dear Papa

It did not feel right to cry. To mourn your death.
It did not feel right, but the tears still came.
I wasn't around, it did not feel right
Not after you asked her to leave

It did not feel fair, dear Papa, to be by your side
To feel your pain and ignore hers, like everyone.
I chose her, while you died.

The night you left, there was nothing to feel.
Just a need to hold you close. To tell you I love you.
Both things I'd never been able to do, not when you were alive.

And today, when I mourn you, Papa,
More than a thousand days after you left
I know you loved me.
And I hope you knew I loved you.

One Step Closer.

You try, and you keep trying. 

You work hard, you sacrifice.

You walk on hot sand 

Sleep under the naked sky

You do it the right way, 

You do it the broken way. 

You do it the way you know you should.

And when you reach there... 

Where there's hope to find You

You find you're lost again. 

Pick a Subject, Get a Poem.

Abigail Mott

It was a romantic evening. Dressed in a red coat to keep myself warm, I was walking down the streets of LoDo in Denver, with my husband. We had just wrapped up a great Italian dinner and were in an untimely holiday mood. The live music in some parts of LoDo, the festive lighting, cold winds and the energy on the street had collectively made the whole evening very 'fairy-talish,' right out of a 'happily-ever-after' love story.

Laughing after we crossed the street and considered (and later dismissed) entering Lannies Clocktower Cabaret, we came across a sign on the sidewalk. It read 'Pick a Subject, Get a Poem.' Above the sign, was a folding table, a typewriter and a young woman sitting by it. Getting a personal poem on this beautiful evening seemed like a dream. I couldn't believe that this was a serious, real offer. We approached the table to confirm, and asked the woman (Abigail Mott, as I got to know later) if we could choose ANY subject. She said 'Yes, pick a subject.'

Maybe it was the autumn. Maybe it was my red coat. Maybe it was the drive with views of the Aspen laden valleys of Colorado. Maybe it was just my excitement and impatience. I chose the subject 'Leaves.'

'Leaves' By Abigail Mott

As she typed in the subject, Abigail requested - 'One rule is that you can't read the poem as I type in.' I was happy to move a few steps back and give her her space. We waited for less than 10 minutes, although it seemed longer than that. When the poem was ready, Abigail read it out to us. It was beautiful.

Small moments like this make so many memories. I don't know if I would replay and record the events of that Saturday, as many times as I did. I don't know if I'd remember the laughter and the food, the Clocktower and our consideration of going into Lannie's Cabaret. I don't know if I'd feel like love was in the air, that evening, had we not come across this beautiful, non-commercial gesture offered on the streets of Downtown Denver.  Thank you Abigail, for adding this spark to that wonderful evening and making it unforgettable!

The Old NYAM (Not-Yet-A-Mother)

I’m 31. Well, 31 plus a few months. In a year, I’ll be 32. My first baby is definitely coming after my 32nd birthday. When s/he turns 5, I’ll definitely be over 37. I wish at 37 I could just sip on wine by the poolside, but I know that’s not happening. I know my fun outings will likely be in an ‘amusement’ park, where I’d be acting like I’m enjoying myself. I hope I don’t go crazy by 40. Now why am I talking about amusement parks and going crazy? Here’s why.

Recently I’ve had my in-laws visit us and they have a cute little 18 month old daughter. We took them to Universal Studios and showed them around. We went on rides, turn by turn, in twos, so  that one couple could take care of the baby while the other went on the ride. 
In mid July, Universal Studios was cooler than expected, but still had us perspiring and parched. And Tired. 
Every time I saw the baby's mother, I felt sorry to see how tired she was, for the baby wanted all her attention and obviously needed to have her diaper changed every few hours; and fed every few hours; and if bored, then carried in each of our arms; and if too tired of being seated in the stroller, then left free in the park - with one of us running behind her and the other unsuccessfully trying to fit into the comfort of the stroller.

And every time we switched for rides, the baby wanted to be with the ones who were going. So while she cried relentlessly when 2 of us walked away, the other 2 had to distract her, hoping she forgets about the ones that are going and stops crying (which she did, every time they disappeared).

So you see, my conclusion is that amusement parks make babies want ALL the energy they know they can possibly get out of people. Currently, at 31, I have the energy, but at 37, I will have to dig it out of my body. And not just energy, even attention will need to be dug out of my soul. For if I don’t, my short attention span will definitely earn me the ‘careless mother’ tag. Sigh! But let’s keep this discussion for another time.

Back to that day, in my head, all I could think of was: 
‘What will I do when I get a baby? I will be too old and never have the energy to bring my baby to Disneyland and Universal Studios and all those parent killing amusement parks!!’ ... Amusement parks made of the man, by the man and for the man. By man, I mean the MALE in particular. To be honest, I have done little research into who made the first amusement park, yet, without any doubt I can say it was definitely a male of our species. Because everybody knows, they have always been this way. They do stuff, we regret. 

But I’m not just complaining. I have a solution. I mean, amusement parks are good and all that, but they really need to act responsibly. There’s just too much pressure on parents and non-parents to take their kids out at present and in future to an amusement park. I, as a non-parent, feel the pressure as you can see. 
So, the simplest solution is to set a minimum entry age of...um...18 at the amusement park. Now, was that too hard to think of? No! I mean, I came up with it just now, in less than a second. And I hope everybody reading this post passes it on for others to read, or starts some sort of a campaign or petition asking for such a rule to be enforced.

And when the authorities ask "Why?" we’re making such demands, here are some of the reasons I came up with, quickly. (I’m sure you can come up with more, it’s such a common sense thing!)

• At 18, kids can visit amusement parks all by themselves without parents running behind them or cleaning their poop or wishing they had 5 clones.
• And trust me, without this rule, parents will soon have to make clones that look after their kids, so that they can get some time to breathe.
• Clones will make parks even more crowded than they already are.
• Making clones is not as economical an idea as making ‘18+ Only’ sign boards at the entrance of amusement parks.
• AND people like me who are thinking about having a baby, will just do it if the rule is enforced. We will feel less discouraged and worried about our lives and energy levels for the next 18-20 years.

The last reason, if you paid any attention, is the most important and significant of all. Because I know I’m not the only one out there, with these fears. There are many more like me. And although I will still have an offspring of my own, I know there are many smarter and stronger women who will not do that unless this rule is passed. And little by little, one day, humanity will come to an end. All because amusement parks do not have a minimum age restriction. Too big a price to pay for, right?

Well. I’m too tired now. I feel rested after expressing my honest opinions on amusement parks and the need for a minimum entry age, but I’m tired after thinking and typing so much. I can’t be blamed. I’m 31. I’m getting old. You can’t expect me to keep typing while you sit and relax and read and maybe even laugh at me. The writer-tiring internet made by the man for the man and of the man has to do something for people like us who have so much to write but are going to start a family after age 32 and are therefore obviously tired, even just by the thought of it.

Origami : The $1 shirt

'A skill a day.' Something I often think about. Wondering if it's possible... and after all those conversations in my head, concluding with a 'Yes.'

So what kind of skills? Useful? Yes, maybe. Even if not-so-useful, it's still 365 new things learnt in a year, no? (Yeah, that was another part of the conversation that took place in my head.)

And then, with so much time on hand and such few fun things to do, I decided Origami was the right skill to try. Not like I mastered it, but hey, this does look super-cool. ---------------->

Now don't go thinking that I created it. No. (I wish I was that smart) But I searched for some interesting origami to try my hand at and came across a youtube tutorial which was very easy to follow. I can't find the link to the one I used but here's a similar tutorial you can follow to make this cute $1 shirt. Click HERE to go to the tutorial.

It takes less than 10 minutes and Yayyy, you have added to your skills too ;)

Live each day like it's your last first !!

This morning, I decided to get my hands dirty and pushed myself to clean the kitchen... while scrubbing the stove top, many thoughts sprouted and for some reason, one stayed. These thoughts came up probably because of the mundane task that I was busy taking care of.

Maybe another part of me was reminding me, judging me and arguing with me. It's my preachy half... she kept whispering - "Live each day like it's your last," and I felt angry for being judged at that moment. In my defense, I told Her that if I really had to live each day like it's my last, I would end up becoming so useless and annoying to the people around me.

Agreed, I would never waste time doing laundry, keeping my home clean or cooking healthy food for my family. But seriously, will people ever want to live around my dirty surroundings and stinky clothes? And, on a serious note, why the hell would I save any money at all? Why would I exercise?? I'm okay with dying with those few extra pounds on me. If today really was the last day of my life, I'd keep my husband at home. Surely he can skip work on the day his wife is about to die?

On the last day of my life, I'd splurge, donate, and for the last time, meet a lot of people by unexpectedly showing up at their doorstep (or on their phone screen), demanding their time. My friends' and family's facebook pages would be filled with annoying PDA and for this one day, I would be labelled 'Spammer' by all my contacts on Whatsapp.
On the last day of my life, everyone would have to handle my nostalgic self and like it or not, smile and keep me happy. 

''Okay!!'' 

I heard my preachy half tell me. 

''Go ahead and do the laundry next. Live each day like it's your first. What you do today, will determine what you do the next day.'' 

And it was at this moment that I dropped the scrubber into the sink, took off my gloves, marched into the living room and got comfortable on my recliner, TV remote in hand.

"Well...in that case, I have many more days to do purposeful stuff. Today is just the first...I'd rather relax than do laundry," I said.

My preachy half stared at me, sighed - and this time, joined me on the couch. 

''I'll take care of you tomorrow, today is just the first.'' she said. 

Tainted

It was during the monsoons
Those nights they spent talking
Like the world had just two people
Two pieces that fit too well
That shared stories, secrets, songs and sorrows
That fell in love when they shouldn't have

It was all real, all true
And it was all unacceptable
Too young and too old to be together
They were pieces born years apart
Two pieces that should not fit
Lovers that should not be

And so they walked two different paths
But they kept those promises
Together, to grow apart
Forbidden as their love was
There was little else to lose
Much to remember, during monsoons.

Sacrifice

Night tides in love

Rise up, fall down, give up not

While the moon waits long

The oceans hold back

Tides from kissing the moon

So the Earth lives on

Written and composed for Haiku Heights, Prompt word: Ocean

While the tidal force is purely scientific, it can be viewed romantically by poetic, or even ignorant minds:)

Poisoned

Mix the poison

Into the ocean

It will reach home one day.

Written for prompt word OCEAN given by Haiku Heights, this haiku bluntly talks about the way industrial waste is thoughtlessly dumped in our water bodies and is a reminder that this water will come back to us over time.

Bitter Truth

Stepping off the train

Absorbing chaotic life

Dreamy eyed, she smiled.

Through the rushing crowds

That did not look at faces

Unseen, she walked by

This grass looked greener

Across her sub-urban fence

To feel it, she came

But it had no dew

Perfect fake grass with no bugs

Her first 'bitter truth'

The plastic green blades

On land that was barren

Spoke about its people

Those painted faces

With unhappy eyes

Spread like cancer in time

Seasons changed 

But the fruits remained the same

...Hard to find sour grapes

The rains came and went

But the glorious rat race

Seemed to have no end 

Beautiful city

With it's opportunities

Could not hold her back

Bag in hand, she walked

Amidst chaotic crowds

To find what she had lost

Extruding the pain

She stepped into the train

That took her back home

In still waters, She
Looked back into her eyes
To find scars and lies

And then a tear drop
Washed off the grime,
Unveiling a wee ray of joy.

Written And Compiled for Haiku Heights. Prompt word: Urban

I hope to have achieved the aim of making each Haiku stand independently while still contributing to the compilation as a whole. Hope you enjoy it!

Beach...

Womb

From the beach's womb

Little turtle as you leave

Come back one day too.

Written for Haiku Heights

Prompt Word: Beach

Message

Washed ashore by sea

Message came in bottled green

'Thanks for freeing ME'

Written for Haiku Heights

Prompt Word: Beach

Time...

As you do, will I

Leave impressions

And die infinite?

Written for Haiku Heights
Prompt Word: Time

Parallel Shores...

I cross this bridge

Away from your world

All alone, with faith

To find what I yearn

The day I return

I will bring in my eyes

The stars and seashells

That will keep me alive

And then if you burn

This bridge in the dark

I'll wake up and build

A rage in my heart

These shores I will cross

Every day and night

I'll bear all the pain

Of the waves that I fight.

With time I will Frail

My vessel will float

One evening you'll find

I haven't come home

And when you start looking

On new shores you will find

This vessel and those seashells 

Both empty but pristine. 

Between you and me...

These are parallel worlds..yours, mine and ours...each world believing in another..unsure if it exists...yet being connected by unseen strings. You are not new, neither is your existence to me..yet, in your absence, I doubt if your real...

I move on and I feel no difference. Like nothing is lost. Like everything remains just as it was. This cup will remain full for as long as I keep drinking from it.

In sunset and with sunrise, you enter before I open my eyes. These are not tears, they are only the rays of your light.

Its like a feeling of being barren. Of being incapable of retaining life. These are my war times. A battle with an enemy I'm not sure I know. It's not a win-win situation for sure.  For whoever is defeated, remains to be a dead part of me.

So yesterday when I nearly lost my life, I was pulled out, punishment is not in demise. For punishment is maybe not the Universe's style.

Blind Faith

So she left no leaf unturned.
Even if it meant that she'd have to tear off each leaf from the most beautiful tree in her garden.

It was not something done intentionally.
Yet each leaf that was torn off was torn off with an intention.

Who was to blame when the Gardener sat silent, watching all the tamasha.
He could have told her the truth.

He knew the leaf with the answer. Yet, what joy did He get seeing her will against her wish?
In silence He watched those pretty leaves weep with her. Did He love none of them?

"When the Gardener pretends to be blind, He wants you to learn," the wise Old Banyan Tree said.
If there was anything more she had to learn, could He be more kind?

Anticipated

As Death approaches
I fear it less
I’m ready for it
I have few regrets.

I even fantasize it,
How will it be?
Will it grip my heart
Or will it make me bleed?

Will I die in my dream
Or in the middle of a road,
Will I die a virgin
Or leave a bawling child alone?

Will I make my folks smile
By being a traditional, well-cultured house-wife
Or will I run away, deep sea-dive
Rebel and suffice till my demise.

Though not the moon
I could’ve surely reached the skies
Had I obeyed my heart
And not their ‘well-meant’ advice

Bored of the pricking needles
That put me to rest,
As death approaches,
I feel it less

Left with no fantasies,
I’m ready for that last breath
Its prediction on a hospital bed
Being my only regret!

Vacant Grounds

Vacancy is everywhere. Isn't it? You just need to be able to see it.

Isn't it vacant in there? 
In that smile when you’re happy too?

Isn't it vacant when you look without? Maybe within too?    

So isn't that why you want to fill it up?

All vacant lands are used as feeding grounds...grounds growing fruits for the world.

Grounds that are ploughed, exposed to all weathers..                 

Grounds that suffer..to fill others.

Yet, aren't those vacant grounds?

Selfish vs Coward

There is something strange about living under the cloud of being grateful. Because you don't know when it's going to burst and when you are going to have to use your umbrella of truth and get ungrateful altogether!

It is indeed strange when you need to explain that it was not ungratefulness on your part but rather your integrity. It is difficult, most, to explain yourself to the people who you call family while they never stand by you. Or at least that is truly how I can feel about it.
Anyway, so what do you do when your difficult, orthodox folks call off a wedding because of what seems to you (and to any other unbiased person) like an ego clash with your prospective in-laws? WOW! Isn't that like 'Oh, your friend laughed at my haircut? You are not going to that school anymore!!'
No seriously, I wonder how a family of 20+ people can be okay with that while ignoring the fact that their child is for once very happy and 'right' by their original definitions. It may make you question all the things you have learned while growing up...wonder if it's hypocrisy on their part or stupidity on yours to have believed that the morals you were given were actually things your folks believed in and followed too.
So yes, this is when I decide to do what I think will make me feel proud. I decide not to betray someone I love and who loves me back. Walking out on one's family is very difficult. Because it makes you feel that there is no one you can come back to when things go wrong...and it makes you want to make sure you never have reason to ever depend on anyone else. And you know, in anger, all you can do is act, but you can not change your feelings, erase your memories and start afresh like nothing ever happened.
The strangest part is when they call you selfish. And you wonder which fool said that being selfish is wrong and easy. Because it so is not easy and it is so much of a right thing to do. 

Row for yourself, and you're never going to sink. And when the storms overturn your boat, you'll drown without regrets.
Yeah, call me selfish. What do you think I should call you? Coward?