promise

the sun owes none
no promises made 
only a bright light 
that pulls me to him 
i get too close
and my flesh burns
my heart shrinks
from his cruel heat
so bright 
i try to hold it close 
the stench of smoke
of a burning past
no promises made
and fewer kept
yet i lie awake and wait for you 
one day you'll see my fire small 
that burns one way, all day
and only for you...

-Reena
sometime in 2011

Don't know where this comes from but it writes itself...some days! A song (ab to hai tumse har khushi apni...) about being in love with a famous yet angry man, some lyrics, a book, a story, a reverie anything can set off these words that must find a way...

fire

A tiny piece of heaven
Unbeknownst we were given
And when the stars align
Gather up their shine
This world is lit, alive
My best and yours, we thrive
Don't turn, why won't you stay?
For even heavens they waste away
Perhaps I ask too much
Too many fences keep us
Wrapped in a world of binds
We pretend but inexorable & blind
Ephemeral as a bird's sweet song
You ask if we even belong
Yes we do, this is ours -- meant to be!
Here! take these eyes! don't you see?


-reena

Nov 11, 2013

golden

A few new curves that life did throw we caught with some aplomb
Who really knows what the future holds but we'll keep walking on
Sometimes we'll stumble sometimes we'll fall
Sometimes so bruised and burnt
I'll keep your hand in mine, mine tight with yours
For all the years that tread lines in us
we hum as one in this long chorus!

Our stories have been many we've never tired never told
How I tell them is mine to keep
Yours may come out different even set to the same tune
I hear yours and they rhyme with mine
Tales flow like eternal songs

They are ours yet have been here forever
That's how we know they ring true because they echo
All those who've loved like us, lived with gratitude 
Their panache and passion left footprints we've seen.

So let's grieve and let the tears come if they must
Let me be here for a while, I'll sit by you
You by me and let it pass...

passage

Oct 1st 2013: Anurag's Dad passed away

Oct 3rd

Mira: ....[talking incessantly about her beloved Dadaji's passing this morning] ...hmmm...what happens when we die, Mommy?

[Context: We are not religious -- actually we are atheists -- and so we don't have explanations about God and heaven that we can offer... did wonder this morning if that would be easier, actually]

Me: Well life just ends!  Actually the world ends -- for the person who dies. There is no more world. There is a saying "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" so the body just disintegrates and disappears and becomes part of the dust, and earth and the universe again which, is where we come from, are part of anyway.

Mira: Oh! So Dadaji is now in the rain, in the stars...

Me: ... in everything.  Yes - exactly, ...we come from that and go back to that...we are a part of the Universe.

2 DAYS LATER...

[While I am driving Mira to school]

Mira: That means we are breathing dead people too! EWWWW...

:-)

whisper

a small thankfulness spreads all over me
some days they weigh so heavy
i let it engulf me, surrender without voice
a quiet gratitude that settles me, rejuvenates...

nobody

my story so familiar, so utterly common place
the cries, the weeping, the wailing for my dead
all the homes i know reek with echoes of such pain
for those mutilated, raped, and dishonored and bled

rude history swept in and flooded my home
chased my dreams away while i stood small and dumb
i ran for my children, left all that i knew
a home, vain comforts, a lifetime rendered numb

wise ones exhorted us women "choose honor over life!"
heavy familial burdens bestowed on us to take
rooms of charred bodies, honorable heaps in the well
they never thought to ask whose choice was it to make

told us a dear new freedom was headed our way
but forgot in those slogans my name and my face
as i was being banished, being compelled to 'choose'
festivities marked the tryst with destiny's famed day

they said it was 'azaadi' for a 'svatantara' new land
demands just sacrifice from all, it was claimed
yet apparently when they came gouging for that rent
our heads were bartered for lines in political sands

a foreign lawyer who'd never set foot on my soil
inked new lines, lit them up and it was declared
clean cartographies created, summarily announced
ancestral homes, generations, lives? simply exchange!

books decoded new lines that severed all old ties
without asking me once how my own life was hacked
this "partition" was explained in historians' thesis
my truth came up trivial compared to those tracts

yet do you see those ties still shackle me today
the nightmares stay close, like wearying next of kin
every year you celebrate freedom -- yet i still burn
the wounds seethe and breathe just under my skin

i rebirthed you countless times, fenced every fear at bay
now will you ease my torment from this vicious history?
will you free my tale from mere domestic rants and tears?
do save your pity but not for me; acknowledge my story

don't let me leave here yet, unheard and unsung
expose unto sunlight my darkness, scars and guilt
don't choose to walk on by unmoved, unchanged
or history she'll come knocking, reigniting every sin!

--reena
august 15th 2013
...for my grandmother - and countless ones like her - who were forced to flee...and others who couldn't!


azaadi = independence/freedom in Urdu
svatantara (स्वतंत्र) = independent/free in Hindi

when she comes

sometimes she comes and perches on my shoulder

uninvited, demanding, screeching like a cloud

pushing my head down, making me hesitant on every move

making me hurt, easy to tears, inexplicable

unexpected this arrival, all her visits 

it's me and it is not really me

she comes and alights with no permission

she take me by storm, it is my invasion

i cover her, i push her, i try not to see her

i cannot even like her but i must forgive her 

all i feel is a helplessness, a loneliness i can't fathom

a breathless hold that's not mine but all mine

there is no reason for this but grief isn't fair

i am but an outcome of an existence that was given

perhaps i should embrace her and hold her as mine

and maybe if i hold tight i will stop her from hurting...


-reena
sometime 2013... i forget the date. she made me.

speed

Perhaps we try to fill it all up
To have markers showing we really where here
Little intents, moments we hurried through
Hoping speed, sheer grit will burn through the fear

Ground in our steps in a fool's certain march
Leaving shallow footprints we smugly displayed 
Even as we turned, hurried onto new roads
Winds blew, time flooded in, faded them away

Our breathless jottings of all that we saw
Our mad recounting of lists we crossed off
Miles we covered, turned to see if we missed any
Marking meaningless baubles, petty wars

But as we reached our maturing hour
If we were lucky our hands were warm
Only such loves that sustained with us
Had kept pace, walked steadily along

They said you'll not know how happy you turned out to be
And as I sit listening to the chimes that hum with me
I mark the uncounted: great loves, kind forgivers, steady rocks, true mirrors,
No other counter, nor currency could this life be measured in...

Reena
July 30, 2013

so many words

i sit here often thinking of what i want to say
show you my map of how it went awry
wasn't what i wanted or hoped for
but i slipped somehow in this exchange

so many questions but i lost the words
i walked confused, as if i imagined it
if you said you don't know what i could possibly mean
i'd take it as the truth, final and simple

not because i think you mean what you say
not because i understand your words or such meaning
not because i think i can talk through this
only because it's truer than you think

and because i have run out of words to reach you
perhaps too many words flowed without explanation
easy, too easy to put down, hit send
sell out what's real for daily dose of projection

time we wasted, even a lifetime who knows?
how i never at a loss for words or objection
never afraid to talk it through, work it out
found refuge in my losing exhaustion

then i think maybe they are right
those that say i think myself astray
too much introspection can be bad for you
i don't buy it but i swallow anyway

perhaps i can't talk because i've lost the argument
whatever it was i couldn't have won
i did not know where i stood or do now
sure this is best; lets you off ; no questions...

...

--reena
july 22 2013

thoughts on how two people can misread each other...even in this world of over-communication or perhaps because of it...we write a few words in an email and think we have truly shared our heart's condition...

aruna

this thanksgiving it will be one dozen wondrous years
since your gift, the miraculous one you gave
the one i laid claim to, yet she came to own me
the one that flowered into my being
grew roots deep, pervaded my soul, blossomed wide
a flourishing happiness for all my years

we brought her home and ours she was - this bundle of our hearts
long before we knew, somehow you knew how it would turn out
gave her to us, us to her, fates sealed with a grace and a blessing
and went about that morning like it was just another day
but i saw the tear, that self respect your sacred calling wrought
such a gentle touch that moved mountains, restored hearts

somehow today i searched for you even as i've known you're gone
i recalled the day we heard -- gone too soon, too soon, too soon!
a fear spread through my being, a panic this earth had slipped
such a wrong, a meaningless wrong hurled upon an oblivious world
who decided you had to go when scattered lives needed your hand?
how does this world go on when the maker of families is gone?

this paper talked about your words, brought back how you were
dignity in a relentless march with hope, unflinching aplomb
how you said "what WE can do for them..." as only you could have
i remember your scolding for me once when i dared to lose hope
"if you're feeling down and out, think how we go on"
shamed me to look up, stand up, brave & smiling there you were

so every time you cross my mind, and i see my beautiful one
my heart fills up so i can't speak, i cry to tell you what you were
you have been gone, the world is poor, the sky less blue since then
how will i ever repay this debt? ashes, memories draw a blank
that awful day i called and spoke to your daughter, i sobbed
"what your mother gave to me, now i can never repay..."

--reena
june 7th 2013
--------------------
for the amazing woman mrs. aruna kumar of Palna/ DCCW in Delhi who gave me and us so much and who i will never be able to repay... and for every person who has given me something, anything, i want to express my gratitude today, everyday.

when she went suddenly, unexpectedly in 2006 she was only 58 and left so many luckless ones who did not have the good fortune of crossing her path...

http://www.financialexpress.com/news/children-s-centre-turns-50/63419/0

ek din

छोटी सी खुशियाँ
कई दिन मेरे दर पे खड़ी रहतीं हैं
कभी आवाज़ देकर मुझे बुलाना पड़ता है
तो कभी मैं उनकी राह तकते वहीँ सो जाती हूँ

कभी हिचकिचाते हुए मेरे पहलू में आकर बैठ जातीं हैं
कभी कूदकर मुझे गले लगा लेती हैं
लेकिन जभी भी हाथ थामने को आगे बढ़तीं हूँ
जाने क्यूँ मुझसे शर्मा जातीं हैं ...

the gift

In the early evening hour I'm sorry to reveal

If you look for me, I won't be found willingly

I won't be at my station toiling a long day

I won't be at the store carting stuff away

I won't be in my kitchen devising a new recipe

I won't be found reading or relaxing merrily

But those that know, know where to look

No distant land, nor comfy nook

It's where Mira and Moxie follow my feet

As I plant and feed and water and weed

As I nurture this patch, each visit a gift

The deepest of calm, such joy! I'm adrift

And if you call to me I will not come

Words, distractions, temptations I shun

I will not rob this hour and the bond

That keeps me rooted for hours and beyond

For gardening is among myriad gifts she gave

Finding a flow in those memories I save

I followed in her feet as she tended the garden

Recharged her energies each day in her haven

Taught me much about how to savor this life  

Make a garden, nurture beauty, relish the tiniest delight!

invisible

such a life will pass us by

don't forget me today

or the day i call and say

I was there you didn't see...

don't forget me

when i am gone

when our lives will stay tangled

but my laugh will be an echo

when my touch will be but a tingle

and my breath a warm memory

hold my hand today

for i am here

i am alive

i can see you

don't forget to see me




-----




june 12th 2011 (an old one)

chapter

This Mom of yours...
------------
Some days I wonder if
All I'm teaching you is mine
Really what I'm learning myself
Only a few decades behind

But willing and open to shed
the old; and acquire the new
How long do we really learn?
Asks a forgotten childhood

With you I've rediscovered
Where I'd left off without knowing
Somewhere this dreamer awakened
Recalling a neglected reverie

For soon enough my butterfly
shall sprout her rainbow wings
I brace as she readies for flight
Wonder what her journey will bring?

And I'll have to console myself
That you'll have your own landings
And even as your heart stays open
You're centered for wise navigating

And I'll rush to call and check
At every possible misstep
Perhaps I would have learned to stop,
"I think she's ok - we did talk about that..."
----

For my little sweetheart who grows up too fast ....
April 14, 2012

manic monday

Looked up today and noticed
March was almost done
One more week and another month
Will slip by, be just a bygone

I wondered if 25% counted for something
Did I really live a quarter of this year already?
Bide the winter till Spring came peeping by
To play in my garden, on my knees, muddy

Inexorable, this march; sweeps us along
I wonder how it started to race on so
Who sped it up so the rush leaves me dizzy?
What happened to the days we took it slow?

Who made these calls, these tunes I now march to?
The daily cadence of life's calls, unforgiving demand
A self-centered thirst comes over me
In crowds, I dream of hiding in my garden...


............
to manic mondays and more...


March 25th 2013

owed

I have answers for the complacent ones, who lounge in their stupor

Bleating on what can we do? we are too little, too weak, too far away…

What answers do I give to those who were battered themselves

Whose bones were hacked, lives torn up like second hand trash

What do we tell those who cry: I was there. It was me they felled; the rest simply walked away…

I think of you often and wonder what dreams you left unfinished
How much your mother cried, or couldn't - even as she bled
When your father stopped breathing, every breath hurt so much
Whither those you touched drifted, emptied by humanity's betrayal

Yet there were those who simply left you for dead, near dead
"What could have we done?" "We are but helpless - indeed!"
"It is the system that's so rotten" they must boisterously proclaim
Then secure their homes to rebirth the same wretched filth

Maybe the sleeping wrath you woke will howl unto hell
Maybe the world will move on - unmoved
Maybe one day you'll come back, seek us out for an answer
Was it me or your dharma that was raped that day?

------
for nirbhaya...
who was raped and murdered on dec 16th 2012...and who i cannot - and will not - forget...

--reena
3/9/13 11:23pm

wearing it on my sleeve

you expressed surprise at my candor
said to me i shouldn't express it so
i don't care because i feel it so
i know the hurt of an open heart
the ease of love and how deep it goes
but don't make me hold it in
for i'm nothing without this
all i have is here and yours to take
give me what you can, or nothing at all
yes it makes me naive and easy to hurt
so sure it's "better" if i hold it in
so sensible and sane, never off the rails
never tell you how i feel, or how much i feel
but then one day i simply walk away
just when you thought i was so easy to have
and yes i do, i can play that game too...
but then who would i be?

... not me.

___________________________________
--Reena


(based on a song i heard recently that brought back memories from a long, long time ago. This is why I say: Life is messy. Get dirty, be engaged, stay vulnerable...)

The Only Meaning

Ann Druyan upon the passing of her husband Carl Sagan...

______
"When my husband died, because he was so famous and known for not being a believer, many people would come up to me-it still sometimes happens-and ask me if Carl changed at the end and converted to a belief in an afterlife. They also frequently ask me if I think I will see him again. Carl faced his death with unflagging courage and never sought refuge in illusions. The tragedy was that we knew we would never see each other again. I don’t ever expect to be reunited with Carl. But, the great thing is that when we were together, for nearly twenty years, we lived with a vivid appreciation of how brief and precious life is. We never trivialized the meaning of death by pretending it was anything other than a final parting. Every single moment that we were alive and we were together was miraculous-not miraculous in the sense of inexplicable or supernatural. We knew we were beneficiaries of chance. . . . That pure chance could be so generous and so kind. . . . That we could find each other, as Carl wrote so beautifully in Cosmos, you know, in the vastness of space and the immensity of time. . . . That we could be together for twenty years. That is something which sustains me and it’s much more meaningful. . . . The way he treated me and the way I treated him, the way we took care of each other and our family, while he lived. That is so much more important than the idea I will see him someday. I don’t think I’ll ever see Carl again. But I saw him. We saw each other. We found each other in the cosmos, and that was wonderful..."