VERSE | SWEET AWKWARDNESS

They look at each other 
Awkwardly
It’s been thirty five years
Since they’d last seen each other
Blood has flowed thinner, starker than water
For the two sisters
Now standing together

They sit down
It’s in the younger one’s home
The older one perches on her seat
Hands clasped around her knees
Knees bunched together awkwardly

The younger one makes the tea
The steaming, billowing pour
Softening, mollifying the tension
That has stretched like taut skin
Raw, painful, blue-complexioned
On the surface of the atmosphere

The older one reaches for the milk
She pours it into her cup of tea
Hesitates and looks at her
Wondering if she still drinks it
The same way she did before

The younger one nods, smiles ever so faintly
She puts the sugar in
Looks at the older one inquiringly
No, she didn’t have sugar in her tea
From each other, they both look away
At the steaming cups on the tray

The brews in the cups
Swirl for a while
Spin and beguile
Then come to rest
Pulling a film of whey and casein
Around their hearts
Hiding away from the scene
Hiding away from the awkwardness

“Do you remember -“
“Do you remember -“
“You used to love the milk skin on the tea”
“I used to love the milk skin on my tea”

They look at each other
At last they laugh
Sweet-awkwardly
Eyes moist, hearts beating fast
The tension is torn away
Finally
In the gush of warmth
From the tea
From she looking at her
From her looking back smilingly

The older one looks at her cup
The smile still playing on her lips
She picks up her spoon
To remove the cream
Her sister never had it
Today she wouldn’t too

The younger one looks at her cup
Gazing down at the membrane
Floating in the milky brew
She picks up her cup
Her sister always had it
Today she would too.
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VERSE | NOSTALGIA

She steps into the car
Its gleaming surfaces
Adorned with gladioli and motia*
She’s the bride tonight
Garlands also lovingly
Entwine in her hair
Their fragrance filling
The nighttime air
Eyes bright
Face shining with expectation
She glances behind her
Just for a moment
One last time
At that spot where she stood
Leaving behind her childhood
Marking the end of her maidenhood
She smiles
Nostalgia now sits there
Young, hopeful and light
Eyes bright
Face shining with expectation
Waiting to fill the space
That has been so tenderly placed
Into her sacred embrace.
* Motia: The Jasmine flower.

VERSE | HEALING

She looks down at the empty page 
Something is on her mind
A plot, a verse for better or worse
For the rest, a pithy line

But nothing stirs into rank and file
For her to string together
The words and phrases spin like crazy
She just can’t find the tether

“I looked at him in puzzlement…”
No today she couldn’t go there
“She sat serene and beautiful
With a magnolia in her hair…”

She felt herself choke a little
She couldn’t walk there either
In sepia-toned dreams is where
She felt happiest seeing her

A cup of tea, a pastry
That sublime combination
Surely she could muster up
Something for that occasion

But her thoughts were far away
They were looking at something else
The woman poised upon her page
Needed healing herself

So they had set up a little storm
In the space of her tearing mind
Whirling, swirling round and round
Until the pain was left behind

Then to her blue-stung heart they went
To gently numb the precious space
Odes to life’s ripple and swell
Could wait for another day.

VERSE | KNOWING

For every smile upon your lips 
A million more have beamed
On happy faces old and young
With joyfulness they’ve gleamed

For every tear that you have spilt
When sadness cleaved the air
Countless others have also grieved
From the depths of their despair

When you have laughed with tears of joy
Right from your belly out
There have been a billion others
Who’ve chortled in delight

So live completely sit with both
Your joy and with your pain
The energy that thrums in you
Flows in everyone the same

For every smile that’s on your lips
For every tear that falls
Someone somewhere feels the same
Someone is sharing it all.

VERSE | c-ART-arsis

It was one of those treacherous days 
That squats in front of you
Exhausting and depleting
It drains you through and through

I was overcome with listlessness
A pall lay all around
I sat staring into space
Completely stupor-bound

I needed to break the torpor
I needed to feel alive
I recalled some pithy words I’d heard
Of drawing to revitalise

Sketch anything on a blank page
The sage had thus advised
So out I got my notebook
The blank one, without lines

I looked at my set of markers
They were the watercolour sort
Liquid-lovely for colouring in
Already drawn out art

I picked out a green one
The black just seemed too staid
I then sat staring into the creamy
Depths of my blank page

It was said that if you then find
Yourself in a conundrum
Imagination hiding away
No muse, no inspiration

Then just write something positive
And let your mind roam free
The words will inspire by and by
A masterpiece of imagery

“CHOOSE the world you WANT” I wrote
Feeling a wry smile om my lips
So many empty words they seemed
Skepticism had me in its grip

I drew dancing confetti to bring
Some joy to the lifeless leaf
Adding comet-like tails to the C and T
Shedding some existential grief

Then I added whorls and twirls
To the words I’d written down
In reds and blues and oranges
Purples, violets and browns

The sentence glimmered on the page
In colourful celebration
In all the rainbow hues and more
An uplifting declaration

I smiled, the sluggish spell now gone
Every flourish had set me free
Enshrined in my mood uplifting art
The words now also surrounded me.

VERSE | ADRIFT

I feel the pull
I feel the glimmer
It surrounds me, it’s all around me
I freeze as it coaxes me
Out of the grip of my sanity
I stop struggling
And let it pull me in
I drown
Down, down
In the tsunami gushing
Inside my mind
But only for a breath

I resurface then
In my other world
My secret one
Where I have no anxiety
Where I don’t want to run
And hide
I’m beside
A swing in the garden
And a rocking chair. I smile.
They both hold the comfort
And the softness of old friends
They rest there quietly

I sit in the swing
I push with my feet
And peek through the leaves
At the golden-red sky
I can’t see them
But I can hear the birds
I think it is dusk
A velvety glow wraps my world
Golden paisleys and whorls
Dance around my feet
As I sway gently in my seat
Dappled sunlight cloaks
My shoulders like angels’ wings
As I weave to and fro on the swing

I breathe out, my muscles untense
I’m far away from cause and consequence
No memories, no sorrows
No yesterdays, no tomorrows
It is Now and Now is everything
I lean back
In the swing
She holds me softly
In her cushioning
I close my eyes
I hear something
Someone is calling me
Voices from far away
But my lids are so heavy
I can’t keep awake
In the tranquil buzz
Of the honey bees
And the gentle murmur
Of the almond trees
Like wraiths the voices fade away

I’m finally home, unbound, pain-free
I lay my head back and sleep.

She’s not here anymore. She’s gone
Adrift in the tangle of her dreams.

VERSE | SOULFUL INTERLUDES

I look at the leaves
Serrated edges, little flowers
And I wonder
About its identity
The shrub growing under the amalthas* tree
You would know
You always knew
As we walked in the street
Outside the house
You could name every flower
And every tree
Every creeper
Even the sickness
That gripped some of the leaves

You looked at these
Concerned, everything else forgotten
The fact that your own body
Was racked with disease
That ever-present pall softened
By the enormity of your being
Your own pain erased
And at that time, in that moment
I too forgot
The wheelchair that you were in
That you were ill; that we were grief stricken
I dived right in, feeling, seeing
You weaving magic around everyday things
Flowers and trees grew chimerical wings

The swaying kachnar*
The beskirted Ashokas*
Bobbing profusions
Of jasmine and phlox
Fragrant bunches
Of nargis* and freesias
You pointed them out with happy ease
And worried when any of these
Were less than their perfect selves
And I too smiled and looked
In wonder
At how joyfully you revelled in it all
Holding infinity in your lit up face
Offering up so much love and grace

And for those moments
I too forgot
The pain and the grief
It was you and me
Sadness free
While you took me on ethereal trips
Where nature in all her fullness
Unfurled - beautiful, calming, brave
We were carried away on a gentle wave
The pitted leaves
Still vital and green
Were the only things we needed to save
* Kachnar: Orchid tree or mountain ebony

* Ashoka: Saraca asoka

* Nargis: Daffodil

* Amalthas: Indian laburnum

VERSE | GRIT

For all the women and the men supporting them; for all those who get up every morning and despite all odds make it through the day surviving, shining, rising. For the friends and families of Sara, Mahsa, Noor, Qurat Ul Ain and of the countless nameless others like them: your grit is everything.

When it’s been tormenting
Day after day. With no respite
And I just don’t have it in me to fight
To battle on
When I’m war-weary
When there is no end in sight
And all I want to do
Is sit in a dark room
And let its coolness shroud me
Until I can feel the hair
Stand on my skin. There
Is suddenly more to the day
Than the heaviness in my heart
And the endlessness of the grey
That has been flowing, gripping choking me
Keeping me doubled down on my knees
There’s more beyond that malevolent mien
Images, memories driving me insane

Now -

Now there is also something
On the outside of me
A little chill
A little photo on the window sill
Both pull at me in different ways
One makes icicles
To sear through
The magma that has congealed
Inside of me
The other makes my blood flow warm
Streaming, coursing through my veins
Reminding me that I’m not alone
My spirit and my fortitude
Still cloak my shoulders
Strong and true
I sit up straight
As they reverberate
Through every atom of my being
And they chant
An age old song
Of others like me
Who’ve fought on
Their hearts fused forever
With the loved ones they’ve lost
And I know
That I’m not wielding my sword alone

VERSE | NIGHTFALL

Twilight descends upon the world 
All is bathed in a pale golden shimmer
The cacophony of daytime
Has softened to a gentle murmur

Soon the leaves begin to whisper
In the branches of the trees
They nod their heads in time
To the playing of the breeze

A serendipitous cloudburst
Falls softly on the grass
Before she mists our eyes with sleep
Earth cavorts in one last dance

Birds and beasts have disappeared
Under the velvety cloak of night
They all settle down to sleep
In the twinkle of her star light

The night time creatures stir awake
There’s a chirring in the air
A low hoot, the flap of wings
The darkening world is now theirs

As eventide wraps her arms around
Our earth of blue and green
I too lie in the hollow of her hands
And wait for restful dreams
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VERSE | THE WHINGE

Today has dawned as one of those 
Days that makes me gripe
I sit up in bed thinking of all
The things that I don’t like

It’s useless today to try and be
Tolerant and benign
So here’s an unlovely ode to things
That get on these nerves of mine

I hate early mornings
And tepid cups of tea
I abhor geckos on the wall
Even if they’re nowhere near me

I can’t stand milky coffee
But I cringe when it’s too strong
Too much sugar makes me gag
Too little pulls me down

I so hate the humidity
And what it does to my hair
Like an alien in residence
Waving its million arms in the air

I deplore breaking with the
Predictability of my grind
First my latte, then some work
Then some angst if you don’t mind

But I also hate when twilight sets
On my day off from routine
From the clutches of mundania
Self imposed as that may be

I can’t stomach margarine
For what it does to my intestines
Anaphylactic shock and awe
Are then wholly, soully mine

I can’t stand the loud caws
Of aggressive city crows
Scavenging, ravaging their
Insidious way indoors

But I also dread the day my
Neighbourhood mynahs don’t come by
I don’t care that my avian favouritism
Is then guiltless and alive

On these days I also detest
All our erstwhile politicians
I wish they’d all go and drown
In the tumultuous Indian Ocean

The Arabian Sea just seems
Like a seriously dubious route
They’d go Gulf country visiting
And come right back home to loot

I hate that I hate my life
When my hormones are awry
When everything seems absurd
A frickin’ painful enterprise

Yup, It’s one of those days again
When I’ve woken with a groan
It’s going be 24 hours of
Whinge and hate and moan
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FEATURE | THE WHISPERING PATHWAY

Located in the mountains of Central Sri Lanka, and about 30 kms from the city of Anuradhapura, lies the ancient Ritigala Buddhist monastery. Dating back two millennia, the monastic complex is an epic work of mindful architecture connected via a continuous, forest-hemmed stone walkway.

The 1.2 km hike begins at the office of the on-site branch of Department of Archeology of Sri Lanka close to the foot of the Banda Pokuna, an ancient man-made reservoir with a circumference of almost 400 metres. Erected right down to the base are stone steps that circle the entirety of the reservoir. Here visitors to the monastery possibly completed their ablutions before heading on towards one of the many Padhanaghara – double platform structures made from massive pieces of granite linked together by a stone bridge; these served as meditation spaces. There are over 60 such double platforms over 120 acres at Ritigala. Among these structures are also the vestiges of what was once a “hospital” complete with root grinding stones and Ayurvedic oil baths with sophisticated drainage systems; the foundations of “floating air conditioned” rooms; and ornately decorated urinals to remind one of the fickleness of power and glory.

We began our journey at the Banda Pokuna into this ancient realm held as it was in the benevolent arms of nature herself. As soon as we started walking up the granite pathway, we felt the aura around us shift; take on an ethereal feel. The place manifests a melancholic trance in which one becomes completely cloaked, experiencing each of its elements in vivid sensory detail: The murmuring forest, the life force of its roots underfoot, the iridescent salamanders flicking between the stones and the continuous pathway like a silver beacon to venues of meditation and peace.

Trees, some old as age itself, their serpentine roots traversing the forest floor as far as the eye can see, shade the path with their green verdancy. As we hiked uphill, the atmosphere continued to thrum with their primal energy as one ancient one whispered and its murmur was carried like an undulating wave through the rest of the grove. Then all would be quiet except for the chirr of the crickets and the chorus of a songbird. It felt like we were witnesses to the sharing of a sage old secret; the trees of Ritigala retelling it among themselves and then quieting down as 21st century humans hiked up its ancient trails. Then whispering it again, until one stops to listen; and then the pulse slows down as the heart beats to the gentle rhythm of the humming trees. If ever there was a place where one can SEE one’s feelings, this mystical pathway held in the embrace of the ancients is that place.

Serenity is everywhere. The scene is mesmeric. The trees continue to tell their tales in the sun dappled patterns that shimmer on the path and on our skins; like golden runes that speak of the most profound quietude and peace.

To stand there and to take all this in is like absorbing the quiet energy of all that the monsastery once embodied; the tread of thousands of devotees; their quiet meditation, their rhythmic chants and even the ascendency of their consciousness. One can almost see the ascetics of old and the seekers of calm walk up the steps, their spirit energy conjured up again by the gentle cantillation of the trees. The experience rouses in turn, awe and an overwhelming humility; an acute awareness of the smallness of the individual and the profoundness of the collective.

We came away from Ritigala cloaked in the magic of nature that has continued to keep its erstwhile history vibrating through its quadrangles, pillars and its meandering walkway. The Ritigala monastery is truly a mystical portal through time.