We Women

We can wear skirts,
flowers in our hair;
Cry unabashedly,
and show we care.
We can cook to please
We can flirt and tease
We can be complicated
with such perfect ease!
We diet with zest
Yet drool over a sundae
Shop, Shop, Shop
Drive into a one way
We can ask for help
It’s ok not to know
We love what we love; hate what we hate
And it’s equally ok to show!
We soar, we wallow
We lead, we follow
Sometimes we’re the face
Setting the pace
Or we’re the hand
With tact and grace
Pulling strings
To get things
Exactly the way we want it
And when we succeed
Loud or discreet
Smugly we love to flaunt it
Yet,
without men, we agree
so incomplete we’d all be
They complement us so
Sure, it’s a man’s world
With a woman CEO!!

[It is Womens' Day after all!! ;)]

Every Other Woman’s Story…

Alright!! I admit defeat
So I got tempted enough to cheat
The heart-felt vows - repeated often
In a matter of minutes - all forgotten

One look and I go weak
Drawn - so helpless and meek
Eyes glaze with a greedy fire
Lips part slowly in desire

I shouldn't, yet I know I will
succumb, as usual, to Evil
It drives all good sense away
Gimme the chocolate,
I'll diet another day!!!


(Another Pri - inspired poem... This is to convince her not to throw out the chocolates we still have in the fridge!!)

A 'lovely' point of view

Love makes men do
the strangest of things
(God save man from the
madness it brings!!)
The besotted lover
looks on and sighs
over what he describes
as almond eyes;
bow-shaped brows;
and hair like silk
The face is a moon
as white as milk
Rose buds for lips
Sea shells for ears
Neck of a swan’s
Even pearls for tears…

And on and on and on he goes
caught up in his love’s wild throes
O love-crazed lover, just this once
Think without metaphors and puns
If your imagination turned true
It’s the shortest route you’ll take
When you see what a grotesque
collage she’d make…!

Point of view?

... and suddenly things begin fading out
Leaving me puzzled, assailed with doubt
My world reels out of focus and sways
The rainbow colours turn to greys
A riot of muddled up shapes disfigured
Points of brightness randomly triggered
All defining lines seem frayed
O God, now I’m really afraid!
Confusion leaves me wildly wondering
What happened? When? Why? And How?
Absently, I put on my spects
Uh…all’s right with my world now!

Soulmate

Dare I read something more
into this friendship of ours?
Or is it asking too much
of an alliance of six hours?

I realise it's much too soon;
such matters usually take days.
Yet, since you came like a long-chased boon,
my life has changed in subtle ways.

I've suffered a lot in the past,
I've cried my tears, I've done my pleading;
I've stumbled and faltered, and often slipped,
and was always left sore and bleeding...

But now, my gait has an easy pace,
there's a spring in my step, a smile on my face.
You taught me how to forget, at last,
the faithless cruelties of my past.

I've never had anyone like you,
encouraging me to test my feet,
nor have I had the confidence myself
that I could ever outrun defeat.

Yet, today in your softness
I forget my pain...
In the tenderness of your caress,
I revel and live again.

I thank my fate,
it brought us together,
and thought me worthy
of such a blessed treasure.

I promise, I'll love you true.
I promise, I'll care for you.
I'll polish you before every use...
my new, black, soft-leather shoes!

I hate school

I hate school
from the depth of my heart.
It's so dull and boring
from the very start.

I hate the crowded classroom -
it resembles an age-old attic;
highly unimaginative,
it is stuffy and static.

The atmosphere is bad,
the teachers are no better;
their dull, uninterested attitudes
make me mad as a hatter.

The huge papaerwork and the deadlines -
it's routine mechanism, a living hell.
Tension keeps rising throughout the day
I wait for the final bell.

On top of this the boys -
they don't like me at all.
They greet me with wolf-whistles,
at times a cat-call.

They make fun of me
and snicker behind my back.
I've tried to be friendly
but I just don't have the knack.

Their whispering is louder
than the loudest shout;
and the adjectives they use for me...
can never be repeated aloud.

The boys hate me.
I do the same.
I hate the teaching staff.
They reciprocate without shame.

But despite all this,
one has to follow the rule:
willingly or not,
the Principal has to go to school!

Rain Pain

Rains seem to inspire
poems by the dozen
But I, for one,
fail to see the reason.

A season that brings mosquitoes,
scorpions and ugly toads,,
how can such a weather ever
inspire such heavenly odes?

Rains are more of a nuisance,
unpredictable, and full of stinks.
But, then, poets always write
of the most useless things!

Each menacing black cloud,
every thunderclap so loud,
leaves me in no doubt
of what a show-off nature is
but, I refuse to be impressed by this!
(Clouds that thunder, do not rain
and those that do are such a pain!)

Its presence necessitates, at least,
an umbrella or a raincoat
that doesn't really keep one dry
but surely adds to the load!

Water, water everywhere
on the land and in the air.
the entire surrounding terrain
seems to acknowledge rain's reign.
the puddles and the ditches
are rain's victory niches.

Every splash from the puddled roads,
every mud-stain on the clothes
every rotting apple and bean
is a point in favour of the monsoon team.

The summer-parched trees
in need of rain...?
Ask them how they like
to be drowned in the same!

O Rain, please abdicate
I will not hear your dictate
You may be important,
necessary too,
but that doesn't mean
I have to like you!

I don't find you all that strong,
and correct me if I am wrong -
wetting the driveway
and drenching each plant,
what can the rains do
that my hose-pipe can't?!

On the flip side

A lovely weather prevails outdoors,
but we, like typical scholarly bores,
sit with books upon our knees,
resisting the call of the beckoning trees
and that of the swaying flowers and leaves
dancing to the tune of the monsoon breeze.

We can't be a part of any of these;
We are to concentrate on studies...
In the class, we study literature
and discuss Wordsworth's love for nature!

Numero Uno

Day in and day out
I see people rushing about
with a dogged sense of duty,
and a fervor that I pity.

They have a goal, they have an aim,
Working hard to acquire fame.
They are busy with this or that
They have no time for friendly chat...

They are rude, they are curt
Mindless of whom they hurt
in their bid to race ahead
wanting to lead than be led.

Their faces are marred with frowns.
They've lost all their natural bounce.
They don't laugh or smile these days,
they spend time in productive ways.

I thank God for relieving me
of the burden which they carry.
Happily, I'm through all this -
one of few to have acquired bliss.

I wave my hand, I graciously smile
They don't even care to stop,
but give me hostile look instead -
it sure is lonely at the top!

…?

When I’m happy, when I’m sad,
When I’ve had it really bad
Its fiery colour revives me.
Its concentric graceful folds
Never fail to lure me…
A waft of its fragrance
has the ability to assure me.
It drives away the worries
And brings a smile to my face;
It restores in my mind, the beauty of life,
With its freshness and sheer grace.
It makes my eyes shine
It makes my world fine
Its very thought inspires art.
It has the power to touch my heart
And it’s cheap – just fifteen rupees
For a kilo of my favourite jalebees!