In a Bus

It’s a summer sun gone into hiding suddenly,

There’s just the right paleness a sky could wear

As if it aches dull, and is sore with some unknown pain

Seeing the panorama of nature and people

From a running bus, is revealing.

The mind drifts back to people

Who came with the signboard of love,

Flirted with emotions and limbs,

But didn’t stay long.

A strange sadness moves through the trees quickly

And you whisper to the wind,

‘God bless their happy families, their wives and children.’

And sullenly think how fear prevents the heart from writing its

Own language,

Fear of people, of safety, of the ego dying,

Fear of so many things

Sticks to the dark corners of the mind

and keeps us small.

A song plays on the ears

And a strange longing stretches its limbs nowhere

Longing for love, for touch,

for a connection as cosmic as ether

Longing for someone to come and break you free

From a self-imposed widowhood.

Water flows in dark ripples

Under the bridge,

Sand ribs stretch for miles,

The trees look absent-minded and sullen,

Carrying your mood.

No fingers stretch and touch yours,

No arms envelope you in reassurance.

You keep listening to the song still,

Teary-eyed, bleary-eyed,

Thinking of how much you gave and how much received.

You are not anymore afraid of pain but,

Not fearful of anything under the sky,

except sin.

Love, Love and Leyond.....

                 -1-

Almost always

 Thoughts of love invade the mind

And she is overwhelmed with longing

The heart says that she will never love again

The way she could have  loved,

There can’t be anyone alike .

So she almost thinks of asking from God,

After she is dead,

And thinks of sitting in the Eden with love, under a tree,

Shoulder to shoulder

Hands entwined,

Toes playing and souls merged.

But then she remembers

That it was only she who ran helter and skelter

Clutching to love,

People looked for other things 
And ran forever,
Without twitching an eyebrow,

For  pretty brides, parents, friends, relatives

Parties, progeny, convenience, social standing, skin, freedom,

Projects, needs and fifteen years of sex.

 She relents and falls silent.

               -2-

I tell my foolish girl that why she’s dying for people

Who always chose their pride

Over her happiness,

Who bartered her heart

With conditions of not to seek joy in exchange of

Their so-called dignified existence.

I tell her to go

And love that man

Who curses her, rebukes her,

Gets angry with her

And stops talking from while to while

But can not imagine a life without her,

Can’t go seeking happiness in some other woman,

Some other face,

Who, though fumes and smokes

That she keeps him at bay,

can stand and wait at Eternity’s gate

but can’t stop loving her ever.

                  -3-

Women,

Keep away from married men

And their fanciful engaging conversations

And the glint in the hovering eyes.

They are just bored with

Their everyday existence

And old and used things.

And are on a look out for new excitements.

They will never hold your hand in the light,

They will never take you home,

At the end of the day,

They will go back to the safety of their happy homes

So, strike your conversation,

Finish it to a camaraderie cut,

And move on.

Women,

Don’t loathe men who dumped you

And went for other pastures,

Pray for them, for their pretty wives and cute children,

Their happy homes and restless souls,

Their successes and dreams,

They have got what they chose.

If you loved them,

Pray for their happiness and move on.

      -4-

She will leave the house some day now

Where she had entered with her crowded self

Head in the clouds

And thoughts scattered.

That is the house

Where love could have entered

(Is love ever cautious?)

Its presence keeping the air inside fragrant

Forever, except a bit of doubt

And a whole lot of longing.

Love would have moved around in the small space,

Sleeping on the ground with oiled head

One hand clasping another, holding tight

Onto heart

She just kept thinking in disbelief.

She dreamt of love

In a house, where love and she, could spend some

Intimate moments, breath upon breath,

Lips upon lips,

Where they could have sat shoulder to shoulder

Talking madness.

These is the house

Where longing  for love turned into something else

And departed

Leaving her teary and sad

Like an abandoned child.

Houses will change,

Dreams will fade under layers of time

And incidents,

Some of them she will carry to a new house,

And keep it her own,

With nobody to share.

She will also carry the faint picture of lovelorn

People, detained for sometime

At time’s get-way,

And then vanishing

Into the mist.

           -5-

The lights faded little by little

In the unstable sky,

The tinge of red lingered in the horizon

Following the sun- down,

As darkness fell,

Trees turned into ghosts

And stood unmoving.

The river shone in its silvery light,

In the empty part of the sandy bed,

A bunch of kids stood

In a weird formation,

Not playing, not shouting,

Looking like Martians on a strange search

On the earth.

I looked at the passing scene

And death seemed

A soothing intermission

Before embarking on a new journey,

On board a new train.

If There is Heaven...

It's mid afternoon
And a breeze scatters the leaves,
You can almost hear a call if you have a ear for it,
to come and lose yourself somewhere
in the mangroves or the clusters of trees
at the foot of the hill.
Nowhere the twilight sings so beautifully,
Nowhere the trees invite you so maddening,
Nowhere you melt into tears
just for nothing,
Nowhere you can meditate
and connect with the universe so close,
even on a bike,
Nowhere else can you close your eyes
in the middle of a crowd
and trust so perfectly

and can choose to get lost completely.

Balancing Love and Logic- From The Speaking Tree column published in THE TIMES OF INDIA

IT IS SOMETHING NOT WRITTEN BY ME. I READ IT IN THE TIMES OF INDIA AND LIKED IT.

Can we achieve a balance between love and logic? Logic leads to material gains, while love warms the heart and leads to emotional and spiritual gain. In life, both are required. The eternal battle between mind and heart is something all of us have to contend with. You are made up of body, mind, heart and soul. Physically, the heart is a separate organ and the mind has no physical location. But when we speak of heart in poetic or metaphysical terms, when we speak of emotions, ‘heart’ refers to the part of the brain which is responsible for our emotions. And love is always of the heart, never of the mind.

The human mind is a double edged sword. It can take us to great heights, as we can see from scientific and technical advances we’ve accomplished. It can also push us into the depths of decline, and all the crimes, wars and bloodshed over centuries are proof of that. The heart is responsible for feelings of love, compassion, sharing, altruism, sympathy, and empathy, but is a bad businessman. The heart is much ‘weaker’ than the cognitive and rational thinking part of the brain. The heart is not concerned with profit and loss, or with assets and liabilities. In fact, if anything, the heart is irrational and illogical.

Love always springs in the heart. It is a deep connection between two human beings, which cannot be explained or understood with words. And love can happen to anyone, anytime. Every society places a lot of rules and restrictions on love, romance and marriage. Although our mind understands these and tries to follow them, the heart can often break through the barriers and fall in love, even if it means going against social conditionings and beliefs. The heart can bring you true love, but you might have to pay a price.

Another problem with love is that we often tend to confuse our thoughts for feelings. Love cannot be described or taught to anyone. It arises spontaneously. How does one know whether what one feels, is really love, or something masquerading as love? Love implies freedom both to you and the one you love; love implies that you are willing to do anything for the happiness of the other person, even if it is not in your interest. Love is unconditional, without any ifs and buts. If one wants to know true love, one must observe, study and understand the love of a mother for her child. This is often considered the gold standard, where love is concerned.

If you truly love someone, you will only want to give, not to take. Possessiveness and jealousy are not part of true love; they are thoughts of the mind, which is always from worrying about losing your love. True love is never scared of losing anything, because it does not want to take, only give. And when you are only interested in giving, how can you be worried about losing anything?

The mind often tries to tell us many things---the person you love is not rich, is not good looking, is not educated enough, will not be acceptable to your parents …. But if you truly love someone, it will be easy to counter all these arguments. The mind warns us against losses when we are in love, but true love does not care whether you gain or lose. The moment you start asking “What’s in it for me, it is no longer love. Real love is always unconditional, without ego, and ready for every sacrifice.

Follow P V Vaidyanathan at speakingtree.in

CLASS TEACHERS, FALLING LEAVES AND VALENTINE'S DAY

We were revising concepts and I was flipping through the note-book. I was loooking at concept explanations and correction in red pen and couldn't even remember when I had done it. Suddenly it dawned to me that I will not do so in his notebook anymore. All these red marks will become a distant memory for him and me. But they are there today.Suddenly I felt choked with emotion that this bond was going to end and I will not see his innocent face anymore.

Today was my last day with my children. My children because I have been their class teacher for the last ten months. Sthiti told again today that she will miss me very much. 'Ma'am, I am feeling very sad.' she told. She always talks a lot and I don't give a lot of importance to her. But after they submitted their art papers and stated going to the field, Sahil told that it was my last day with her and even a hardy like Sohel came and asked for blessings. Following him, my bravest girl Smriti came and snuggled up to me and told that she would miss me badly. Other girls and boys followed. It was then that I couldn't control my tears. It was may be because nobody missed me or made me feel special that way ever. I told them that they will get into a new class and will gradually gorget the old memories. New happiness will enter their life in the new class.

The life of a class teacher is like that. In the beginning of the session, we struggle to remember the names of all the children in a class. But by the end of a session, we become a family. A family with a class teacher and her children. Just three days ago, In was asking children why teachers don't want to do substitution in their class...why they have grown so naughty and unruly. But I felt so happy and comfortable with them. They were my responsibility. Sahil told Ma'am we are yours and you are ours. I was almost in tears at that moment. It's beautiful bond that is ever forged between a teacher and children because of a single responsibility. And there is no possesssion. Just a relationship based on mutual love and trust. Despit the full knowledge of the fact that these children will forget everything next year. Their innocense will go. They will grow and the world will take them in their grip. They would start following others. I felt a bit sad today thinking that I will never find them again with this innocense, this originality and beauty. These life will be lost forever. Bt at the same time, I am happy that with full knowledge of this ephemeral world, I have tried my best to be fair and just to them, have shared their problems and have loved and disciplined them without wanting anything in return except some love and a little respect.

 Today the day remained sad. I mean the sky. The sun showed only half of its face. This kind of weather is    simply heavenly.In my home town, the trees are shedding leaves. When you walk under them, dead leaves fall in light showers all over you. And under a sorrowful sky, walking the streets is another experence. You get transformed under the canopy of foliages overhead in a city surrounded by hills. Falling leaves tell that if there is life, there is death too. If there is death, there is regeneration and rebirth. The world is witness to this continuous process. We live only one life, but life goes on. I fall into reverie looking at the falling leaves, that one day this world will be and I will not be anymore. All the experiences, of pleasure and pain, will be lost in the eternity.

Tomorrow's valentine's day. Today our youngest teacher came in a beautifully bright saree and a nose ring, hands full of bangles and eyes lined with kohl. She had just got married to her girlhood sweetheart. Looking at her, Valentine's day, seems to have some meaning. Some creatures like me never got the luck to expect love, but on such occassions, there is nobody to buy a present for or feel close to. But there are so many couples who are with one another and are perfectly happy. This day is for them. And people like me can make the day special for those old couples who have no love in their life. Something to remind them that they ought to express love for the people who spend life with them.

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY TO ALL SUCH PEOPLE WHO ARE IN LOVE AND ALL SUCH WHO HAVE FORGGOTTEN A WORD CALLED LOVE.

Would there be a man...unlimited....like the sky?

                     

Today's editorial page of Times of India shows Taslima's photo, she quoting that her maid thinks her to be poor and laughs at her that she doesn't have a mobile phone whereas the author is merely amused at the ubiquitous cell phone and doesn't use one nowadays. I don't know how she manages, though we all can, if we calm our minds, but it had really become a necessity. How do you communicate when there is an emergency and you can't immediately reach someone in person? Taslima can do so because she is an international figure and writers and media people throng her almost always and she can have other means of reaching out. But it's true that she's the only person who cannot be called a freak or a attention seeker when she does something different. May be she's the only  woman who has never been untrue in her life, though at times she has become silent, being tired of a harrowed and hounded existence and has wanted some peace.

I have read so many collections of her; novellas, poetry, columns, autobiography. It has been very natural to fall in love with her, because she has been immensely courageous to bring to light the truths that no woman or even man dared to. May be I have understood her clearly because I have seen and felt these truths from a very close distance. Men have hated and despised her because she has shreded their fake images into pieces and has exposed their ageold hypocrisy in their treatment of women. But how enlightened man would be if he understood what she wanted to speak and tried to raise the society from the dirty dogmatism and egocentric existence and wanted women to be treated as human beings. It's only natural that no man could love a woman like her, because man has always loved to see a woman in the traditional image of her shy, demure, subdued, soft and sacrificing self. So loudly her autobiography screams of her mother's pain and agony of being ignored, subjugated, underestimated, commanded, destroyed, degraded and tortured . I remember a few lines from one of her books where she has written that there is nobody in her city to hold her hand and look into her eyes straight and tell that he loved her. She has not found a man who can bear her truths and love her. She had met men and had fallen in love, but all of them either lied or cheated or simply were too small for her highly evolved consciousness and felt insecure and uncomfortable before her truths. She never found somebody she could respect and love. She openly stands up for sexual freedom, but to me, it is just an outcome of her frustration in not getting true love. She at last accepted that men only need to use women to manage their homes, to bear their childen , to obey them and to serve them and be happy with whatever happiness they get in exchange. There is nobody to uphold their capabilities or taents, their rationality ot their sensibility. As there was no love to be gotten, why live without pleasure? After all, sex is also a mere biological need like food and ablution according to her. I never subscribed to this view of her chasing pleasre uninhibited because I still belong to the species of women who connect sex to a pure and loyal emotional bonding, and that without pure, dedicated and singleminded love, sex becomes a mechanical excercise and animalistic pleasue which, as human beings, we should keep away from so that the societey doesn't jump into a valueless brutal and chaotic existence. Without pure emotions, there cannot be peace in human consciousness. But whenever I think about Taslima, I feel really sad that there cannot be a man in this suncontinent who didn't have the courage, the personal height, the unlimited conscious to bear her immnse truthfulness and daring to expose the ageold hypocritical dogmas and customs that have forced woman to be the second sex and have not allowed her to express herself as a human being. Couldn't there been a man with an expansive mind, who could have understood her and would have loved her?Is there really so much of fear in man that he  can't ever be an evolved human being rather than remaining a puny little man. Can he ever break the shackles of his ego and become unlimited like the shy. Yes, there is risk in it. It is easy to live a safe life, to work, marry a woman, bear children, gather money, build houses, buy cars, pretend to be busy in diffeent circles , have some good diseases and die with caring or uncaring children. But what about living like wind? What about exlploring truths? What about questioning things? Will the Taslimas would have to die disappointed, sad and bored. Would there ever be men...unlimited... like the sky?