PadmaShree, Sri Jayanta Mahapatra once said,"There is something in me that refuses to die. It’s there, somewhere deep inside me perhaps. And this is poetry."
The genesis of POETICbug was thus an act of unleashing the curbed thoughts in the form of poems. POETICbug,says, "I praise; I dare; I invoke care; You write, recite my glory; I am, Poetry."
-Taking forward the spirit of poetry !
A bite into its juicy fibrous body,
Your taste buds are excited,
with the strike of sweetness, so royal.
Your nonchalant pleasure,
Trickles down from the corner of your mouth,
Sweltering heat, no time to bother.
The aroma itself is enchanting,
Draws you cunningly towards itself,
No matter what resistance comes.
Until each strand of its flesh,
Has consumed your appetite,
And soaked your soul with satisfaction,
It continues to embrace you with its regal delight.
Early morning when sleep is still comfortable on your bed,
She comes down with her armour and shield,
A broom in her hand and a basket to collect the dried leaves,
Smoothly, she sweeps the road and side-walk too,
All this, for a petty pay and some food. You get up in your lazy mood,
Call her for that extra work,
And when she is done and dusted through,
You wait her up for tea and rusk.
You search through your kitchen,
In the dark corner behind the cupboard, with one hand in, you find something.
The half-broken china clay cup from last year,
In which you now, pour her the hot tea,
You give her as if it is special,
And she soothes herself well,
For she is promoted now, from the rusted tin can to the china clay cup.
“I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night”
I so agree with this beautiful quote by Sarah Williams.
I sometimes wonder is light the solution for darkness or just the absence of darkness? If that was the case then we would not fear when there is light. But we do. And if light was a solution to darkness, the Creator would have never brought night so beautifully after the day. There is excitement in the uncertainty of the darkness just like it is with life. I believe darkness gives as much hope as light does. It is important how we perceive it because there is charm in everything, even darkness.
I am always fascinated by the darkness of the night. Somehow it attracts me.I feel comfortable and relaxed. In fact I am more focused in what I do, particularly during the night time. I prefer to work at night and more often the laptop light is just enough for me. In fact while searching the net, I found this word,nyctophilia (noun) which means love of darkness or the night.
There is peace in the silence that persists. There is no one to disturb you but your thoughts. I feel all the energy that drained out in the mundane jobs of the day gets rejuvenated at night. This definitely helps me create my poetry the way I envision them. So for me ‘switching on the lights’ signifies that which helps me switch on my inner self. And in my case it is darkness.
Like always my closing paragraph is a poem.
I wait for the nocturnal darkness,
The silence and the calm,
To the rhythm of heavy breathing,
When every sound becomes distinct,
Like each of them is free,
Standing out from one another,
No more fading into the noise.
I wait for the nocturnal darkness,
That clears my mind,
When the neurons summon thoughts,
To weave them together
into the vision I perceive.
In this low decibel around
when I can hear myself out,
I talk about the dreams
that otherwise sleep would steal.
I wait for the nocturnal darkness,
For such relief I feel,
To be what I am,
Blooming like the jasmine.
Unperturbed by none's presence,
It spreads its sweet fragrance.
I wait for the nocturnal darkness,
For the thousand stars to arrive,
Giving me hope to shine like them, bright.
That which light brings to many,
Is hidden for me in the night,
And when I switch on my lights,
I get that darkness enough,
enough to know myself right.
I desperately scribble on the paper,
As if it would write something onto itself,
I barely get a line completed,
All I want is to escape this block,
This block in my mind; in my life,
Where stagnancy has become permanent,
A hurdle after every inch of movement,
Every time I start afresh,
The same confusion bites again,
The gap between the two questions, What should be done?
What I want to do?
Never seems to collapse,
I wear a barbed tiara,
It will give bruises and cuts,
I know and I fear them none,
What I need is the dose of courage
to escape the block –
in my mind, in my life.
This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 54; the fifty-fourth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.
If life was forever,
There would be no Fall,
No leaf would crumble,
In this world's fancy ensemble.
There is grace in leaving,
Like beauty that Autumn brings,
And for every leaf that is gone,
A new one would be born.
I do not wish forever and live alone,
Writing epitaph on loved ones tombstone,
I pray to stay enough,
With compassion and love.
But when I am gone far away,
I wish my memories may
linger without any grumble,
In this world's fancy ensemble.
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 01
One from the pair
of my favourite socks,
Hidden somewhere
in the hallway block,
That lucky pen, dear to me
and a notebook, nowhere to see,
One missing homework
from tomorrow's time-table,
Lurking in the school bag
to attack in class,
All astray, troubled me lot,
Frenzy, my search, a drought.
Those hurtful words
once a friend said,
Some teasing taunts
on me when laid,
Secrets, I got scared off,
Dreams to dare for,
Tangled in my long hair,
Waiting to be knitted away,
Nervous when I stained first,
Doubtful about my teen crush,
All testing times
when I feel low,
Eagerly waiting,
good times to show.
For all my troubles
and rough times,
Her magic wand ready to rhyme,
With mystic stars in the muggle world,
and little bit of her fairy dust,
She solves everything
and clears the dull.
No pumpkin carriage or lost shoe,
But for all my worries, true,
I am no Cinderella, just a daughter,
But my mom, she is my Fairy Godmother.
"We all have shifted home at least once, from the womb of our mother onto mother earth." This is a fact we very often do not acknowledge.
Moving out of the safe womb to the big strange world, we cling on to the one known person first, our mother. Just like being born is the new thing for a child, being a first time mother is a new thing for a lady. It is amazing how she, even being new to motherhood, manages to keep her compose and understands her child. She teaches her child the nuances of life while she learns about motherhood.
Just like for all of you out there, I know what is right and wrong because my mother taught me so. It is truth that will eventually help my way, is something she had shown me long ago. Also that a lie that could save an innocent is something I should never deny. When I look myself in the mirror today, I do see the reflection of her virtues in me. And undoubtedly, I feel privileged to be her child.
But often I think, is dedicating a day for her unlimited love, enough?
My letter is in fact this poem, for the amazingly, gorgeous being called, Mother.
In the puzzle of this world,
When you arrive,
Strange is the air, the faces,
But there is someone you know before,
Through that magical cord of life,
That strangely familiar one,
Who holds you tight, with her warmth,
Is the one we all call, mother.
Your broken, meaningless words are when,
She joins them together and finds the trail,
Unaware, when you move around her,
She knits your dreams quietly,
cleans your troubles cautiously,
washes your stain with all her might,
you don't get scarred for life.
Every time you think, you can lie,
Your mother somewhere takes a heavy sigh,
Friendship, love and kindness stories,
She also shares her life’s follies,
For she tries showering it all,
Those good virtues to help you not fall,
To speak what is right, no cover,
Truth is all that, you should always stand for.
She is ~
your friend to have fun,
a confidant when you have none,
your recipe for happiness,
that dedication for success,
your partner for long non-sense talks,
the believer when you feel it’s rough,
your vault of deep secrets,
the detective that catches when you’re fake,
your medication when nothing works,
without you knowing; your luck.
Because she doesn't ask,
doesn't demand nor complains,
You think she can deal with it again,
And sure she can, sure she will,
But if you can,
For her unfathomable ocean of love,
reciprocate;
live, laugh, celebrate;
With her, for her.
NB: I am writing a letter about how a mother teaches honesty to her child with the Max Life Insurance i-genius #YoursHonestly activity in association with BlogAdda.
When I came across #ShareTheLoad, Share the love with Ariel! at Blogadda, I thought this was the perfect pitch to write on. More importantly because I have a husband who not just believes in this through words rather by his actions. It has been 10 years to our knowing each other. We have traversed from the dating phase to being engaged and then finally now a married couple.And in all these phases we stood by each other in the smallest and biggest moments. We were understanding towards each other’s situation and provided the space we needed. But that was not just until the wedding but beyond that.
After our wedding I assumed that like every other household stories I have heard and seen through my life, mine would be the same. I thought I would have to oscillate between my work life and household chores while my husband would not have to deal with this. But he proved me wrong and I apologized for my assumption.
We always share the household chores – cooking, cleaning, laundry, paying bills or grocery. Each and every responsibility of our home is not designated to one but both of us. And we take that up graciously. Other than supporting each other through our financial storms we have taken care to deal out household routines as well. This has definitely made our relationship stronger. We both can understand each other’s difficulties and the blame-game is something, we rarely play at our home. Life becomes easier when you have a partner who works along with you. Sharing the household load definitely means less complains, lesser blames and least worries.
Since my blog is all about poetry, I would conclude this post with a poem on the same topic.
Proposal, Promises and to keep it true,
I loved it all because of you,
A decade of our lives we have shared,
Courtship, Engagement and a Wedding date,
We took vows, all seven of them,
To stand by each other, in happiness and pain.
You brew the morning tea aroma,
While I clean the last night dishes drama,
When I think of what to prepare,
You chop the veggies every day,
Come night-time and dinner knocks the door,
You share with me this daily chore,
How happy I feel when you offer your help,
to do the laundry and clean the shelves!
Grocery list and the bills to pay,
We share it graciously on our way.
You wanted to study and I continued work,
Then you supported me, when I lost my job,
We said to each other all we can,
Cling together in summer, winter and rain.
In so many good and rough times,
We held it strong and chimed,
The stress of life minimized too small,
When you and I shared it all,
Because a house is called a home when,
husband and wife, equally give and take.
I started POETICbug on March, 2013. While searching for contests and challenges to participate I came across AtoZ Challenge. I found it, not just a challenging but an interesting concept. I wanted to test if I could survive through a month of continuous blogging along with my day job. That's how I enrolled myself for the first time in this challenge and successfully completed it earning the "Survivor" badge. It was definitely a satisfying moment for me. It was my first year and so I did not have any theme for myself except that I have to sail through this challenge. This challenge motivated me to write and more importantly read more poems. I came across a lot of others poets across the world whose feedback and encouraging comments helped me improve on my skills.
Again in the year 2014, I registered for the challenge. I chose a theme of writing Haiku as I was researching on the same type of poetry. But unfortunately I yielded after alphabet "T" and could not complete the challenge.
Yet, this fact did not deter me from joining the challenge again this year, 2015. I kept myself more disciplined this time around with a strong determination of completing the challenge, whatsoever. I chose to contain my poems in six lines by writing "Hexoems" (Hexa+Poem), something I loosely coined. It was hard to sum up the emotions in 6 lines and control the urge to write beyond that. But I managed to do so, sometimes with aplomb and other times in doubt. This year's participation was even more necessary and helpful for me because I had just moved out of India to the US. I had to overcome the homesickness I was feeling the entire day and being engrossed in Arlee Bird's A to Z Challenge helped me a lot.
There were fellow bloggers whose posts and reactions on my posts, I eagerly waited to read. A big hug and thank you to SHALIJAY, SHANTALA, SHASHANK, ARPITA, HANEEN, DONNA, ARCHANA, FRANCENE, CHRYS, JYOTSNA, for being so kind with their words towards my writing. Also thank you to each one of you who visited my blog randomly, but left a comment for me. Your comments were a constant motivation.
The very next day when this challenge ended I got a wonderful mail from the Baggout team. POETICbug was featured in their Top 16 Poetry Blogs In India. So, as far as I am concerned, this year's AtoZ Challenge ended as an all around satisfying experience for me with the "Survivor" badge again and being listed in the Baggout top bloggers list.
