Stories We Tell and Hear

Life revolves around told and heard tales,
Our biases adding color without fail.
A story can have varied flavor,
Like multiple tastes to slowly savor.

So many tales to share and hear,
Narrations changing from mouth to ear.
Molded by observation and interpretation,
Contoured with varying perception.

Stories continuously change version,
Of the same event, place or person.
Grand in scale are the variation,
From inception to adaptation.

Some stories we hear are powerful,
Others can be mundane and dutiful,
Still others fun filled, fearful or fanciful,
Narratives that challenge are most beautiful.

Stories include both facts and feelings,
About experiences in varied setting and dealing,
Some we may loathe, while others are appealing,
Stories exist without a ceiling.



New Year

Another year coming soon to an end,
And a new one just around the bend,
As we each other good wishes send,
In keeping with annual practices and trend.

I like to retrospect year going by's reels,
Replay both facts and feels,
Varied stages hold different appeal,
Some truths slowly simmer and reveal.

All actions have some return,
Some easy and others stern.
Some learnings come with burns.
And teach us how to discrete and discern.

Not all relations are forever,
Some sustain and others sever.
Not every time one needs to be quick and clever,
Some difficult doors can be opened with simple lever.

Since varied experiences make life’s twists and turn(s),
And some acts are better without a rerun.
Retrospection teaches there’s always something to learn,
And something to unlearn. 

Sibling Bond

Sibling bond is special and unique,
With shared history of pleasure and pique,
Though relations change with time,
Fond remembrances remain of when it was prime.

So many memories of pranks and play,
I recall today, on your birthday,
Hiding grades from parents is just one,
Shared secrets of mischiefs are in ton.

Many incidents bring a chuckle to my face,
Those lazy summer days to brace,
When time moved at a slow pace,
Disagreements were rampant on people and place,

You were both my foe and friend,
Despite arguments that happened to no end,
Our common defense against parents,
Was like gutsy soldiers standing up against mighty tyrants.

There were no phones to give us company,
Our tech free childhood is our shared journey,
With board games, talks and an occasional outing,
We kept busy with outdoor play without parental scouting.

As we grow and have new relations in our fold,
Hope new bring you as much joy as old!

Legacy

The bench an a park has a dedication,
Installed in memory of a loved relation.
Honoring departed ones are an age old tradition,
Motivation can vary-a connection, a perpetuation.

Relations do not end with passing of a person,
Sometimes, it can even stir deep latent emotion,
Propelling new work and  action,
To carry on a loved one's legacy- a passion.

Love transcends our time on earth,
Is death just a change of home and hearth?
Anything that gives those living a solace- a berth,
Is worthwhile in its inception without dearth.

This pouring of love can also become a mission.
Death does not have to be a conclusion,
It can be be a succession,
Of deeds, values and learnings in continuation.

Makes me wonder-what do I want my legacy to be?
After its fall, does it matter how tall or short was a tree?
Why should anything matter when one cannot sense or see?
Is a structure, a memorial or a cause, for me?

Not a memorial, but, let love and laughter be my legacy,
After I pass-may you remember me with glee,
Not as a serious and sanguine person,
But someone who's could bring a smile to your face without reason.

Letting Go

I remember as a child losing a favorite toy,
Nothing said could bring back the joy.
After tears, tenderness and time, I accepted the loss,
And learnt a vital lesson of acceptance and moving across.

Letting go is a complex art,
Attachments are like sweet and sour tart,
Detachment is not something for which we have a draft,
Yet, life and living demands that we embrace this craft.

Though generations before us have walked this path,
Yet, each individual is on one’s own swath.
Slowly we learn not all lost can be restored,
Sadness and sorrow have also to be endured.

Loosening some chords can cut sharper than a knife,
Yet, holding on is against the natural order of life.
Since losses in life are rampant and rife,
It does not help to put up a strife.

The sojourn of acceptance,
Is not bereft of inner agitation,
Can challenge many a disposition,
But eventually leads to affirmation and personal evolution.


End of Summer

Another summer coming soon to an end,
And a new season just around the bend,

Its time to retrospect some old reels,
Replay both facts and feels,
Varied stages hold different appeal,
Some truths slowly simmer and reveal.

All actions have some return,
Some easy and others stern.
Some learnings come with burns.
And teach us how to discrete and discern.

Not all relations are forever,
Some sustain and others sever.
Not every time one needs to be quick and clever,
Some difficult doors can be opened with simple lever.

Since varied experiences make life’s twists and turn(s),
And some acts are better without a rerun.
Retrospection teaches there’s always something to learn,
And something to unlearn. 

A Sari Box

A sari box got opened,
And a revelation got made-
Definition of a sari in a dictionary is wrong,
Its not just a garment that’s about six feet long.

It’s a harbinger of memories,
A drape in its weft, weave and wrap carrying stories.
My saris are not just cottons, silks, georgettes and chiffons,
Each one carries memoirs-soirées and songs.

A grand mother’s advise,
An aunt’s surprise,
So much in guise,
And then-conjectures and surmise,

These old saris have opened a floodgate of sorts,
Pouring a deluge of memories- an entire lot,
Taken me back to the place of my youth,
An upbringing of caring, culture and couth.

New fashions and fabrics may come and go,
Some old ones are like a seasoned pro,

Shapes and styles mold as one grow(s),
Yet, a few can still make you gleam and glow,
Reminding that though life’s like a river in continuous flow.
Sometimes it’s better when you stop, savor and slow. 






Vacation days

I remember those highly awaited vacation days,
Respite from school work and its ways.
Days to only laze and play.
Time of precious summer holidays!

Days when the mind at its own pace could drift,
Free of home work, worries and school yard rift.

New thoughts and ideas to unfold,
When regular life was put on hold,
A rested mind-vibrant, positive and bold,
Could shed old patterns and to fresh ideas be sold.

Visit to a new vista or place,
Where clock seems to move at a slower pace.
Not only a destination to see sights and sounds in fresh space.
But to appreciate all of life's gift(s), and the lace.

A few decades have flown by,
But, summer still brings nostalgia of days gone by,

Long bicycle rides, lazy afternoons, sweet mangoes and real talks with friends,
Now as I lead life with new trends,
And see children chat more with online friends,
And consume media without an end,

I revisit my summer holidays in my memories,
And recall those times with sweet poetic summaries.