Last Year


last year gone-
a new night shadows
the usual talk
~
barking dogs
trail my shadow
like last year
~
last year memories-
ablaze in the orange flame
of the street light

.

Linking it up with Carpe Diem # 639 and Heeding Haiku With HA: New Year(click to participate now)

Image source

It is 2015. I wish you and your loved ones a joyous and prosperous new year.
There are certain blogging resolutions, I would like to make, for this year:

1. Write at least a 100 posts this year.
2. Poetry must be the focal point but I would also like to consider writing reviews(books and music albums) and simple thoughts coursing through my mind.
3. Renew friendship with the bloggers. In 2014, I lost touch with many bloggers. I would like to renew contact with them, while at the same time, making some new friends in the blogosphere.
4. Participate exclusively in the prompts of poetry and blogging communities.
5. Reach a wider audience through my writing, with the help of other social networking sites like Twitter.

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Soaking

unheeded
soaking the grass greener-
December dew

.

Linking it up with Carpe Diem Special # 122

Image source

The thoughts also become foggy just like these days sometimes. I remember such incidents which are of no significance anymore. They are smeared with the ink of the past, which one can’t change.
The dew of hope soaks the memories and dreams, making them appear brighter than they ever were or would be. This grass still grows within me, as December is passing by, and another year would soon be erased from our lifetimes.

Anm

Matargashti

up

up

up

round

round                        round

round

goes the ferris wheel round,

round, round, round

                bounce,                bounce,

bounce,                 bounce,

many many rides for you to bounce,

.

and thankfully, there is a crude

rod to keep us from flying around,

to keep a hold of us as we hoot,

shout, make fun of the other

behind the back and upfront

because it doesn’t matter

when you all are a little mad

and become a child, when you

arrive at the rocky ground

(hidden overall by green carpets)

and encompass in you the spirit

that shines through your eyes,

when the city fair comes oblige

you with the memories, and you

live them again, one last time

every time

.

I have had the opportunity to go for such “matargashti” only rarely. Its been about 4 years since the last time I went and enjoyed. I even mentioned it in a poem from November, All these ordinary days and this was the particular stanza:

and how to forget, the excursion to the city fair,

my reluctance, to climb onto the Ferris wheel,

all of those who accompanied me went, while

I waved to them, some had closed their eyes,

panicked, but still going on for the ride, and

the way I shivered in my bones and smiled-

.

Now we are all dispersed here and there lacking contact. I am trying to revive the communication with some of them because friends are important and you realize that only after:

  • you shoo them away
  • they ignore you
  • misunderstanding happens
  • you realize that you were never friends

And I want to realize that you are all my friends. So come on, talk to me so that I can add your name in my secret list. 😀

Matargashti: I don’t know a definite word in English to go with it. I tried searching out but I guess, it is one of those words which can not be definitely translated to English. Its meaning would be along the lines of being naughty(childish/kiddish), having fun and not doing anything of consequence.

I am linking it up with Poetry Jam, where the prompt focuses on festivities, fairs and exhibitions this week.

And tell me about your matargashtis? Or your experiences when you went to a fair or a carnival?

Life Moments

many moments in life,

many incidents, events,

which have left a permanent mark on you:

.

like that summer when night was your day

and you would listen to a song a fifty times,

.

or that winter when you had steamy noodles

during the dead hour of midnight,

.

or that time when you visited the water park

and ate more than you were capable of ingesting

and then floated around in those shallow pools

and slide down again and again, splashing into water,

.

or that day when you were pestered for scoring less

in a class test, you had prepared so well for,

.

or that midnight when you got an unanticipated call

from some one to wish you on your birthday,

.

or the early morning you started preparing for an exam

you have to appear for just three hours later,

.

or that hard whack across your face you got

for a mistake you thought was never yours,

.

or those foggy days when sun would make an appearance

and you would run to bathe in those glorious rays,

.

or the junk food you had one day,

or your favorite candy which you were not allowed to eat much,

.

or your first attraction towards a girl,

or the day when you verbal-battled with your teacher,

.

or that recess time when teacher would force you

to consume what was packed for you in lunch,

.

or that moment long back when some one pushed you in school

and you got a swollen lip, which pained you for days,

.

or your first day in school when you made an example

of your clumsiness by falling down a platform,

.

or that conversation while playing chess of

what the future was going to be like for you,

.

many incidents, events

that have left a mark on you

but now they are gone:

.

you can’t listen to a song again and again anymore,

you don’t like eating noodles,

.

water-park is a distant place which

you can’t see yourself visiting again,

.

it doesn’t matter to you if anyone shouts at you

or even if some one blames you just for the fun of it,

.

you receive no call from anyone, cell-phone is a toy,

you have forgotten everything about that exam,

.

you won’t bear anyone touching you in any way

and if it happens, you end up enraged and finally dripping in tears,

.

you burn yourself in the sun, sit facing it for hours,

.

junk food is not meant for you,

you eat candies but there is no limit to it,

.

you are so preoccupied with yourself that

you have forgotten how it is like to have a crush,

.

you are waging a war with every person in vicinity,

you have no fixed meal plan and you eat whenever you feel like,

.

you hurt yourself, you dwell in that pain,

you are fallen down already, no one giving a hand to pull you up,

.

you dream of future but you are hopeless about it as well;

.

many incidents, events

that never fail to leave a mark in your lives:

.

you are left with their memories,

trapped in a life you had lived

but are no longer capable of living,

.

those events, incidents, memories,

you see them again and again,

.

it hurts your eyes but you keep on doing so,

till you have rebuked yourself out of it;

.

many incidents, moments

that have left a permanent mark in your lives:

you are tired

and you go to sleep.

.

*A work of fiction, based on some real life events. Also adding the link to dVerse Form for All. Every stanza is within 140-characters constraint including punctuation and spaces(as far as I know).

Memories: Political Science Teacher

Political Science has always been a subject of my interest but I got to study it for just two years. I am a person who participates in political discussions.. I love to put forth my opinion and discuss in detail the government’s policies, bureaucracy, political corruption, important incidents in the political history, etc. I garnered a political vision because of those two years.

Particularly during the second year, my teacher was amazing. She used to lecture us about each and every view point, take us through the minute details and she was a teacher who used books to teach but that did not mean she would limit her teachings to that boo cover. She would always offer her opinion and encourage us to do so as well. And that is what had made her my favorite teacher.

Mam! I’d like to share my opinions regarding the same..

All through the year, we would discuss different political matters and it was me who used to speak the most. Sometimes it was as if we two were talking in the class. I don’t know but no one else was as interested as I was in those discussions.

Now a funny thing… My class mates would always thank me after the class for having involved the teacher in a discussion or another, which gave them ample amount of time to take a nap. That doesn’t mean I was a teacher’s pet. But I know I was her favorite student too. She had told me so time and again. She would always praise me for having my own view point, devoid of what others tell me.

Even today I am independent in my thoughts, my opinions and thanks to her today, I am trying to live in the way I want and not in the way what society tends to believe is right.

Before this post gets too boring, I must tell you I am no longer in contact with her. I had her phone number and after when she had left the school (she left it before me), I tried to contact her but her mobile number was changed by then. I tried searching for her on facebook but to no avail. I miss her… That sounds weird, a student missing a teacher. But I do, for her patience and her calm attitude and most importantly, for her opinions and something she taught me which gives me a little strength in these difficult times.

Have you ever had a teacher like that? Which was/is your favorite subject? Is it your favorite subject because of the teacher who used to teach it or just because you like it anyhow? I would love to read your experiences. Please do comment.

Baby Piano: A 100 Word Story

“I can’t forget how we grew up together and then got separated. And today, it is a coincidence that we could meet.”

“It is indeed.” He gave her a brilliant smile.

“You still smile the same,” she shyly commented.

“And you are still the same.”

They shared a quick kiss which was delayed for years.

“And you remember when you visited me at 1 in the night and tried to hide inside my baby piano when my parents came up hearing your loud voice?”

“Yes. And I remember why I visited you.”

They held hands, past memories flooding their minds.

Copyright- John Nixon

* Written in response of the Friday Fictioneers Writing Prompt.

Samidare (Midsummer Rain) Haiku

tip-tip-toe-tip-tip

music of rain on pavement

lost in memories

~

out of oblivion

clouds shade the sky in its cloak

the first drops fell down

 ~

a midsummer rain

relieving yearning pupils

a solace from heat

~

elevated Sun

drizzling clouds in the sunshine

look for the rainbow

 ~

the midsummer’s day

longest in glory and rays

washed down by the rain

~

looking through window

a play of the rain droplets

meditating life

* Written in response of Carpe Diem # 219