Tag: parks

VERSE| THE WOODEN BENCH

On By Mahvash K. M.In poetry, serenity, verse, writing2 Comments

We have all, at some time or another been overwhelmed, overpowered, bested by our grief, anxiety and wretchedness. At those times, some of us have also been lucky enough to have that one place where we have, for a while, found some degree of quietude and peace. This is a tribute to those secret little places and spaces of comfort and healing in our lives.

There is this wooden bench I like
It’s not fancy, quite the common type
Cloaked in by the dappled canopy
Of a gracefully pirouetting Mara tree
It sits in the park like a dear old friend
Its well-worn embrace ever welcoming
A young couple walks up, caught in the grips of wrath 
Love is lost, it’s the wretched aftermath
Words are exchanged until the fury’s spent 
Frustration - Anxiety - Sadness - Silence
Then they sit down on the wooden bench …
Slowly muscles relax and nerves untense
Even if it is a passing interlude
Loads are lightened, hearts are soothed.

Wild flowers grow lushly around its feet 
Bobbing bright heads to earth’s vital beat
The bench sits there like a quiet friend 
It’s well-worn seat ever welcoming
A man sits down in a state of unease 
Holding on to his hat in an errant breeze
He picks up his phone and looks at the screen
The unlit glass reflects the tranquil scene …
He looks up and around him his brow somewhat eased
Fleeting albeit, he’s found his moment of peace. 

Songful birds and their terrestrial friends
Roam warbling and chittering around the bench
Hoping for a serendipitously fallen treat 
They browse busily around the seat
A wheelchair-bound man looks up at an overcast sky
His female companion already has water in her eyes
They sit side by side in worlds of their own 
Reminiscence weighs heavy of days that are gone
A mynah trills as a light drizzle falls
And a sweet petrichor briefly dispels the pall …
The man looks at her, takes her hand and she smiles 
For now they’re alright, tomorrow is still a while. 

I too have sat in nature’s restoring arms 
On that bench where she weaves her alchemical charms
I too have unburdened my hopes and my fears 
I too have laid my bursting heart bare
And I have heard her soothing murmurs 
That have quietened my deepest despair
I’ve looked into her soft eyes from that corner in the park
For a time, my soul too has emerged from the dark …
The clouds have parted, the sun has shone through 
And I’ve breathed more easily, sitting on that wooden pew.

Image generated vis illustration software

VERSE| CREATURES OF THE PARK

On By Mahvash K. M.In Foot in the Mouth, poetry, SriLanka, verse, wildlife, writingLeave a comment

A little background to the below piece. My evening walk is as integral a part of my day as my first copiously caffeinated cup of tea. I venture out 6 days a week, inclement weather notwithstanding, and no matter where I am (I have an uncanny resourcefulness for finding workout venues, even if the source of my next meal disquietingly eludes me). And having followed this body and mind discipline for close to 20 years now, i have had ample opportunity to observe, experience and expertly categorise my fellow park-goers. What follows is the somewhat meandering result. If some of it resonates with other fellow walking track creatures, the bleary-eyed hours writing it, were not for naught!

It all started in those very early days
Social media was limited, it was the digital Stone Age
Post a relationship, solo-winging it again
No other pastime seemed to make sense
So jiggity jog, I began doing the laps
And that’s when I discovered the creatures of the track

This funny set is the first that I came by:
The posse of old gents who give you the glad eye
And if they’re feeling especially brave
They will ardently stalk you around the enclave
The dignified gait transforms into a stampede 
Which an imminent coronary doesn’t seem to impede
The breath is ragged, the pupils dilated
If I wasn’t The Stalked, I’d have slowed down and waited!

The next of the regular crowd in the park
Is the muscle bound ‘Lone Ranger’ who’s out for a lark
Acutely aware of his tittering fans
Like a peacock he’ll do his trademark dance
(Read: do a slow jog looking totally focused 
But we know his nonchalance is quite entirely bogus!)

Then there’s the most entertaining stream:
The ladies who’re out there to see and be seen
They glow and they glitter and shine in their gear
Quite confident they’ve outdone all of their peers
Most have come from vast distances off
Because Wednesday is ‘event day’ at the Racecourse!
They walk and they talk and they scan their environs 
Hoping to catch a gander of the super fine ‘uns
(Please note that I feel abundant affection
For this vibrant, spirited ladies’ faction)

Then there’re the crowds of parents and children
Of bicycles and tricycles and scootie action
Of badminton, football and even cricket
Right in the midst of the walking thicket
Of aimless ambling and head-on collisions
Guardians and wards on their own park missions
Of flash-mob type coordinated collectives 
Sweating it out over their synched acrobatics
This crowd doth teach uncommonly well 
The precision art of duck, dive and repel

But I’d be remiss if this septet ignored
The likes of myself in the regular park hoard
Yes, I’m the one that’s outrunning demons
Not one or two, but prodigious legions!
Eyes straight ahead, “baton” in hand
I march to the sound of my own brass band
I may even come across as a tad bit demented
But a bracing, tearing traipse is so well worth it! 

And so in closing, It’s quite essential to mention 
That in building satire into this narration
I mean to soften the blow of my words
Because haranguing I definitely am still, by God! 
A little more farce? To the whole park crowd:
You’re the molasses in my tea, there isn’t a doubt!