Shivam Diaries

Author: shivam

  • The blessings of a married life and the pangs too.

    imageThe happiest thing to happen in the life of a married couple is to have a child. But you don’t get a baby for a song!. The mother has to suffer immeasurable physical and mental pain while carrying and at the time of delivery. Raising a child involves sacrifices. The parents have to undergo a lot of stress and strain even after the child is grown up and became a father.
    They are aways anxious about their son or daughter’s welfare irrespective of their age.

    With all that, when the child addresses you, affectionately or angrily, ‘ mom or dad’, you forget everything. All the sufferings vanish. The joy is the same even after the child has grown up and has his own child.

    For the parents, a child is a child always.

    Yesterday, I was discussing with Megh the mental turbulence me and my wife had to pass through, when she was carrying our first child. A gynecologist friend feared that due to my wife’s previous medication the child might be deficient in brain development. She even went to the extend of advising the termination of the pregnancy. Alarming was her suspicion and also her solution but we were very clear in our mind that come what may, we were going to have the child. But imagine the mental agony we had to pass through during the period of pregnancy.
    When the baby was born and certified as was in perfect physical and mental health, tears rolled down from our eyes and that moment is unforgettable. I touched every nook and corner of the baby to make sure that he was fine. Counted his fingers and toes, looked at the size of the head from near and far and did all sorts of monkey tricks to ensure that the baby was normal in all respects.

    After bringing him home, when I saw a blooming baby in the cradle, unknowingly a pet name came out of the depth of my heart and I uttered rather loudly, with eyes about to shed water, ‘Kutta!’
    He is still Kutta for me though he has fathered a Kuttan and a kutti, a son and a daughter.

    Only parents will understand the feeling of another parent.
    In marriage sex has an important role but it is the emotional involvements of the pair that counts most.

  • No thorn will prick me there

    image

     

     

    When I’m alone with myself,
    It pains more.
    with a forceps in hand,
    I go deep into my mind
    and picks up a thorn.
    It bleeds, as the thorn is big,
    Strong and deep rooted.

    ‘Let it bleed,’ I tell the wound,
    And spread to act as a lotion
    To soothe you and me.
    Haven’t we both, carried the thorn
    In our bosom all these years?

    I throw the thorn with the forceps.
    Thorn is gone, the bleeding stopped
    But the wound gets sceptic
    Pain increases, unable to bear
    I weep.

    Tears falls down, wets my chest
    Seeps down inside, reaches the wound
    It’s salty moisture, slowly,
    Slowly heals the wound.

    It pains again, another big thorn,
    Again another, all over my mind
    Many many thorns.
    No forceps, not even big knives,
    Axes could pull them all out.

    Lord Agni, only you can do it
    Burn all the thorns
    And clean my mind
    As you did with my mother’s womb
    Before spreading a bed for me.

    Lick and purify my mind and soul
    With your long and burning tongues,
    And make them fit for my journey.

    Let your tongues be the wheels for my chariot
    Let your tongues be my flag and fan
    Let their glow brighten my path
    And lead me to my Master.

    No thorn will prick me, there,
    No pain will suck me there!

  • He will

     

     

    image

    we often ignore the one who longs for us
    And be after someone who doesn’t belongs to us.

    The one who doesn’t belongs to us
    Will never belong to us.

    And the one who longs for us
    Will be lost for ever too.

    Thus we become lonely
    To help then, God only.

    But, how God, whom we ignored Him
    At a whim?

    He will, as He belongs to us
    And He longs for us!

  • Are you one or three ?

     

    ‘Come, come out fast’, cried the kids,
    ‘Stars fall from the sky!’
    I dashed out, ‘ah, coins, silver coins,’
    I cried, ‘not stars, silver coins!’

    Each kid collected a handful
    Went inside happily, contended.
    I brought a big bag to collect the coins
    But, alas, not a coin, I could grab.

    ‘They are not coins’, I screamed,’injustice!
    They are all fish, escaped from my hands!
    Why did the sky drop fish and not coins?

    Kids were happily playing
    ‘These are not coins, but toys’, I said
    ‘No, these are stars!’, they claimed.
    ‘No, no,’ I yelled, ‘those are toys!’

    Stars in the sky, toys for kids,
    Fish for me.
    ‘Are you one or three?’
    I asked the sky, stars laughed,
    The kids laughed; and me too!

  • shake, shake

     

    Shake, shake,
    Let my hands, legs and whole body shake
    I won’t slip if my mind is steady .

    How will my mind be study
    Always looking at the shaking peacock feather
    On His crown, the glistening jewels moving on His chest
    His rosy lips blowing air into the flute?

    The melody from his flute
    Is the moisture for my life
    Food and oxygen too.

    Food, oxygen and moisture,
    He is for the world.

    The world, He is
    He is the world

    ‘Viswam Vishnu’

  • Why go back ?

     

    Everything is on move’, they say
    yes, I know, as my mind moves.
    I see my health moving, wealth moving
    Don’t ask, ‘up or down?’, but they move.

    I see ants moving in a row, in a hurry
    ‘Where to?’, I ask and follow them
    They rush as to get something
    And return doing nothing.
    ‘Why go at all?’, I ask; they go again.
    I know to return, with no gain.

    Birds fly in a hurry, perch on a tree
    Return doing nothing
    ‘Why fly for nothing?’, I ask
    They come back, to go again ?

    I see a little squirrel, running in a hurry,
    Climbing a tree, coming back,
    In speed, but doing nothing.
    ‘Why?’, I ask, ‘follow me,’ it says,
    ‘And enjoy the fun in returning
    Doing nothing.

    ‘Everything is on a move’, they say
    Yes, I agree ; I see my mind moves
    But how sad, my mind is not
    An ant, a bird or a baby squirrel
    To go and come back doing nothing.

    My mind moves to harass, To harm
    To Steel and even kill others.
    I’m sad, awfully sad.

    When will my mind
    Become an ant, a bird
    Or a baby squirrel to run
    And return just for fun?

    Master! Make me an ant, bird or baby squirrel
    Then call me.
    Let me run and return
    Just for fun.

    ‘I have a plan,’ said my Lord,
    ‘To make you a forest stream
    Come to me smiling, singing,
    Dancing, absorbing the lush
    And blush of the trees, birds, ants
    and squirrels.

    Why go back when
    Your memories are melodies ?’

  • Side effects of aging and other stories

    ‘Ammalu, my friends say they find their wives more charming now. What could be the reason?’

    ‘A side effect of aging’

    ‘That means my age remains still?’

    ‘No. Your mind’

    ‘Pushpa is a nice name, Ammalu’

    ‘Yes, shall I change my name to Pushpa or deliver you a baby for you to give that name’

    ‘Deepa, Remya, Silpa, are also good names’

    ‘Sorry, SP. maximum twins at a time, in one year. it is time-barred for me and to you too, but still in your interest, I shall give a trial’

     

    Ammalu, man doesn’t go mad till he gets married ‘

    ‘Because, he starts thinking others wives are angels and his wife is human’

     

     

    ‘Pappa, Pappa, why are you cross with mom always’

    ‘She says I’m good for nothing’

    ‘Aren’t you my Pappa?’

    ‘Yes, of course’

    ‘Then, don’ t worry. I ‘ll tell mom that I’m something’

    ———————–

  • A shy visitor with a color shawl

    Don’t know it’s name, so what?
    It is lovely and it is a bird.
    May be a robin or may not;
    Eyes don’t see name boards,
    Only art!

    Dropping from nowhere
    Swiftly and elegantly,
    Perches on the railing of our deck
    Looks for the feed to peck at.

    Turning neck left to right to assure
    No humans around, she bites and flies
    Leaving some for others who crawls and flies.

    What attracted me more
    Her color shawl or coyness?
    (Yes, for me it is ‘she’ now)
    By her prudence
    And care for others.

    Not an ornithologist me to worry
    Bird genetics or genders
    But I love birds.

    Loving birds, animals,
    Flies and squirrels
    Is a gift.
    I ‘ll be rich even
    When I lose my riches!

    The dance of leaves and murmur of air
    I can enjoy if my eyes loses its eyes
    and ears their ears
    And even breath, it’s breath !

  • Waiting for the confirmation

    On the eve of the wedding of my friend’s daughter, I was having the first taste of selected dishes in the kitchen.

    A man with a serious look and sharp nose came in and enquired,
    ‘who is in charge of the kitchen management here?’

    ‘Me, Sir!’, I submitted, ‘who else, when I’m available?’

    The cooks busy in their work were not bothered about my tall claim.

    ‘Are you related to the bride’s father?’, he enquired.

    ‘No, I am the coach for the bridegroom’

    ‘What do you coach him?’, he asked sarcastically, ‘to roll coconut for nelanku?’

    ‘No. I have undertaken the task of training him in cooking so that his wife could relax’

    ‘You know to whom you are talking to?’, he asked, anger and arrogance floating on his face.

    ‘I have a fair idea, but not very sure. Are you the head cook in the boy’s father’s hotel?’

    ‘No, I’m the boy’s father’

    ‘So, your son was lying’

    ‘Never. He is my son’

    ‘Thank you. That was what I wanted to hear’

    ‘Why?’

    ‘Your son told me that his father is scolded by his mother everyday for not knowing cooking and that was why he came to me for training’

  • Why wings ?

     

    ‘Wralk’, when I say, my legs should walk
    They do now; I’m happy.
    ‘Talk’, when I say my tongue should talk
    It does, I’m happy.

    Many are not that lucky, I realized,
    Still I want wings.

    ‘Dipping in Ganga for Moksham?’
    Asked someone from the bank
    ‘No, praying for wings for me’
    ‘Can you dip me in the waters?’, he asked.
    ‘You too want wings?’ I asked
    ‘No,’, he wept,
    ‘I want legs to walk’

    The birds have to come down for food,
    I don’t go up for that!
    The sky pours down all I need,
    Sun shines, stars smile.

    And what a fun there, up!
    All I can watch from here
    The clouds in fancy dress show
    A granny walks with a stick,
    A maid with a mud pot on her head.
    An elephant raises its trunk,
    A lion roars.

    Clouds clash and dash their head
    Like mad elephants
    Lightning flashes
    I enjoy through my window.
    Still I want wings

    The stars convey their secrets through smiles
    The Moon, knowing all, laughs!
    A night bird flies down to tell me the secret:
    ‘You have everything here; your life starts now’

    My life starts now; have everything here
    ‘Walk,’ when I say, my legs walk
    ‘Talk,’ when I say, my tongue talks.
    Why wings when God lives in me
    As wings, air and space?