Savage Life

they met, they loved 

they parted, they cried

they met again, they smiled,  

they were one, a whole again…

  ~*~

there was magic in the air, 

the tender hand on her hair…. 

time went by,

life was a blur

of hugs and promises

smiles and stolen kisses….

      ~*~

yet there came a day 

when he did pull away!

 savage his words

I no longer feel love

savage his action 

of final retraction 

savage his love

forgetting his vow

savage his heart 

tears hers apart

Savage is love,

Savage is life !

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In response to Daily Prompt :

Savage

Sunshine to Stardust

Sacrifice

was when…..

she forgot her kith and  kin

she forgot all she believed in

all she remembered was impossible love

her need to make him see the heavens above. 

****

her time , her life, her duties, her promises

her responsibilities all could burn to ashes 

all she cared was for the deep happy voice

the chuckle in his throat was now her choice

****

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Complete

Was there an unknown empty space inside me

Was I  Incomplete before  you and me became “We”?

Are you the  long lost other half of a whole

Was I Incomplete before my heart, you stole 

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Leap

She woke up that day with a song in her heart. She was going home!! Being at Medical school was great, but this was her first trip back home! Yayy! Tone deaf, she happily hummed a new popular ditty as she packed her bag.

She joined the equally excited bunch of girls in the hostel lobby and they made their way to the railway station.  The  group of ” boys ” from their batch joined them there.  No one had even thought of reservations and all of  them happily entered the unreserved compartment. The slatted seats were anything but comfortable but the exuberance of youth shielded them from any such discomfort. Seeing them, they could have well been in Executive Class aboard a luxury liner! Continue reading

Amma

Proud of You, Amma

The day a child is born , so is a mother… Being  the eldest child, this is doubly true, I guess, for my mother, who I call Amma.  A mother is your first teacher,  your first refuge, your eternal panacea for all troubles whether you are a one year ‘old’ infant or a 50 year ‘young’ woman. There exists an extra special bond between daughters and mothers which intensifies the day the daughter becomes a mother. An obstetrician by profession, I have lost count of the number of times I have witnessed the miracle of birth yet the novelty never wears thin.

My mother, a “simple homemaker” by definition, was and is easily one of the earliest and strongest influences of my life.  She inspired, coaxed and at times, literally dinned into us, her 3 daughters, the singular importance of being independent and self-reliant in the truest sense of the word.  That we were  “girls” never dimmed that determination even the slightest. I remember once on hearing  that she had 3 daughters, a lady at a local club get together remarked ” Oh I am so sorry!” Pat came my mothers reply… “Why? I am not!! In fact I am proud! ” She would go on to instill in us the courage to follow our dreams, never believe that there was anything that we could not do because we were ” girls”. The fact that we belong to a matriarchal society may also have helped.  The fact that we spent our childhood in Idyllic Goa also did.  Gladly supported by my father, we were allowed  tremendous freedom of choice and were vested with the power to choose from  a very young age. This manifested in me at a very early age when I refused to repeat a class because I was too young to be promoted to the next despite having topped that class.( Class I )

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Across the Rainbow Bridge

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_photo_challenge/gone-but-not-forgotten/

She came into our lives as a little bundle of fur.  Barely a month old, she stole our hearts forever. My Brother in Law found her for us and we fell in love with her. My children grew up with her. She was just a few months older than my daughter.

Minnie was the the most affectionate souls I have ever met. And yes she was  a gentle soul . My son was as attached to her anyone could ever be and a refuge when he was troubled. She would know when any one of us were feeling low and her simple presence was enough to make us feel comforted and yes, loved. Whether it was Rajiv me or our kids. Continue reading

Burnished to Tarnished

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “An Extreme Tale.”

“It was the Best of Times , It was the worst of times”

She, who was once Burnished Gold,

Today let her own sad story be told

Let tears, her eyes no longer can hold

Tell their story of love’s pain untold.

******

 The girl, she met her soul mate

 Together they defied all of fate.

 That kept them for eons, from the other, apart

Yes! They felt – they were never meant to part!

*******

The love story over, her dear hero remembered a pledge

Made to another maiden, driving her now to the very edge !!

Alas! The gold that glittered and was ever Burnished

Now  looked dull and dark, sad and foreverTarnished !

*********

The  very best of times and the very worst of times

Are for some unlucky souls, the very same times !

waiting girl