Subramani.

He walked into my house, his feet trying to balance what seemed like the debris of one of nature's cruel games. He was all but a person of two feet and yet it occured to me that he was taller than the giants that have ever walked these grounds. Not a trace of fear, of uncertainity, even as his eyes darted in opposite directions.

A noise was all he could produce, and it was all he needed. He used the only syllabl familiar to him to shout, plead and laugh. His response was simple. A cry to acknowledge. A nod to disagree. Violent anger as an after math to being the victim of forcible taming of his spirit. A very occasional but extraordinarily beautiful smile. I was blessed to see one, everytime he watched the pack of cards tumble to the ground from the basket he held upturned.

He was no loser, I could tell. He faught, at everything said to him. He was punished, for his arrogance. or was it his innocence? He never told. or did he not know? The burn on his fingers, the scar on his leg? Was it bravery or was it his inability?

He was a child afterall. Hunger escapes noone. But the pity was, when he begins to ask, we never know, its always the same sound. How will you ever know his likes, his dislikes, if he is full or is still hungry if you are the one who decides his meals.

When you go about your life, sinking in floods of tears over what seemed like earth-shattering problems and you meet Subramani, you realise your life is so simple, but you run behind every detail with a magnifying glass searching for something which could be wrong. You create your own problems. Expectations. Responses. Achievements. Loss. Love. You think Subramani understands any of these?But the irony is, when you loose value for any of these, you and subramani are on the same level and you just might be able to understand him, help him even, but the world around you will begin to give you the one thing you probably dont need, pity.

It aches me to watch, no not Subramani. He was born this way. It aches me that people around me can carry on their shoulders worries about their appearance, worries about another flat, another car. Ill never have respect for your palatial homes, the dress you have been flaunting. Your wealth is worth sawdust to me if you have no heart to give. Your status is as good as invisible if you cant help subramani. Your brand is the number on the criminal board you carry around, if you cant feed, cloth or help bring another beautiful smile on subramani's face.

Ill wait again..

Here it comes, the first drop,
On my hand it comes to a stop,
There are millions more to come,
As they land, a rhythm they drum.

On the thirsty, parched ground,
Engulfed in a familiar incense,
Memories escape, dancing all around,
It’s my renaissance.

Thunders warn of the wars waged,
The gods above, they seem raged,
With a flash their swords are drawn,
It’s a weighing of their brawn.

The punished and weak fall,
It was always meant to be,
Truth and strength stand tall,
Bliss and beauty are set free,

The winds, the dead they sweep away,
The streams, the sins they wash today,
A tender green life, it is brand new,
Has found a friend, a drop of dew,

It’s a new beginning, a new start,
The sun shines in golden rays,
But this is still a world apart,And I will wait again for those rainy days.

A message for you....

I live by a rule "Never underestimate the enemy!".

Your rules have been decided by the world around you and you choose to stick to them. Me? Oh I am a free spirit, I set my rules and live by them. If you knew me well you will expect nothin else... Ill stop at nothin to get what I want...

You began this war, and I chose to begin this battle. What did you expect? that Ill wash the ground you walked on? and that is why I began the battle? to reach you? My god... you are ignorant! I could never let my enemy out of my sight... just in case you really do stab me (for real this time... unlike your claim!)

But I seem to have made a mistake! You cant fight a battle without a worthy enemy! You have proved that... you have let your ego get to you ... yet again. If I were you, I would have played the cards close to my chest! It would be a fight in its true sense then! What you seemed to have missed is that this was not a fools game.. not a joke... It was the real thing... an oppurtunity to prove your uniqueness and "sense of authority"! you let it slip.

And If you did really know me.. you would know I wont make decisions based on stupid emotional comments.... thats your job! my ego aint as huge as yours and i aint as stupid as you to let any tom dick an harry prick it!

An I just realised you are so busy inflating your excessively large self esteem that you seem to have forgotten this word called "co-incidence"! A color? you are basing this on a color? or is it that you are the only teenage prodigy, who despite all the illnesses that fate has specially chosen for you, is capable of expressing a flair for writing?

I can see only one thing that seems to be good about what you have done.... you have taught me to "LET GO". Like I said you cant fight a battle with no worthy enemy. You are a fool if you believe this is my defeat.... You have already lost... the day you chose to say good bye to me!

My healing heart!

PROLOGUE

I wake with no strength, its another long losing battle, today,
The hands of meaningless chores push me through the dismay,

I await that moment when I start the next war, to pass this lonely night,
Aleast in this defeat, a short peaceful death will enclose my fright,

Im blinded by pain, a withered hope, beyond this I cannot see,
all that life has layed in my hands hardly matters to me,

It was just another rainy day as I stood alone on the sands,
I was sinking deep in my memmories, then I saw them, those hands.

MAIN

She walked up to me, and I knew it was an effort,
her eyes spoke a language, one I knew well, she was hurt,

time had passed the verdict, greying hair and wrinkles in cruel patterns,
she extended a hand, her story was not written in lines, only in scars and burns,

I never heard her, I knew what came through those lips, cracked and parched,
as she took my petty offering, a smile showed strength in a heart, so scorched,

Then I saw them, those tiny hands, weak and fragile, to her they clung,
they were unscathed, lines untouched, hopes of songs to be sung.

EPILOGUE

She walked away, carrying a burden that was not her own, but I chose to stay,
stay at that moment of my life, when I found myself, found my way,

I found a reason, to live on, to fight with strength and courage,
this war is not my own though, it wont be one with hate or rage,

I will help build dreams of those lines in her hands, I will heal some wounds,
In hope of soothing their pain, Ill leave my own marooned,

Ill stand alone on the sands again, on rainy days, waiting,
not to drown in my memmories, for other hands, full of dreams, Ill be waiting.

How am I different?

Tell me how I am different? is it my color?
No I am not black, I earn no favour,

I live not in castles of gold, its not always peace,
I watch as the plate empties its bread, down to the last piece,

My father offers the world's prayers to the gods above,
I am his little girl, his hope, his prayer, his love,

I dream of an honour, of this thing so noble,
I strive, I watch the lamp die out on this table,

I forget to smile, I forget to eat, sleep has long been gone,
Maybe I have left this, maybe that, Im down to my last bone,

This day decides what is to come, what will I be,
I am an equal in every sense it seems to me,

Then it is snatched away from me, this dream,
Why, I fail to understand, I ask, even scream,

My father holds my hand, tears in eyes he says,
We are forward, your fate was decided in ancient days,

Tell me how I am different? did I not strive?
To save a life, to bring a new one, how could you deprive?

Tell me how I am different? did I not earn?
To relieve pain, how can I not learn?

Tell me how I am different? am I at fault?
this caste, this class I never saught,

And so I go on, on to what I can be, I know it wont be the same,
My passion, my spirit is gone, who should I blame?


I dedicate this poem to all those young minds who shared this dream, to those growing individuals who I hope will find strength in their hearts to live with this curse that our ancestors have bestowed our nation with!

I want to stop the winds of time and ask.... why?

It sweeps past me,
how it comes I never seem to see,

With the strength of the gods it descends,
I am left with no time to make any amends,

I am standing watching my world go to pieces,
every stone, every life I have known seizes,

Much has been said on how to look beyond,
there is always another one waiting, a bond,

Its never a choice, atleast never my own,
and how it will end I have always known,

I havent yet learnt, I probably never will,
and every time, I watch my own eyes fill,

But this story is not just my own, I am sure of that,
every one of you have such remains under the hat,

After all, its not that uncommon, this thing to which this poem I engage,
I have seen it , so has the entire world, its called"CHANGE"!

Im proud of what you have been!

I am running away, out the door,
I am out and then I stop I dont even know why,
I look back, he's not there any more,
I feel strange, I am smiling and yet I know Im about to cry,

we have watched decades pass by our shore
then there was this tide that came by,
there began a journey, it was different from before,
but there was never a "together till we die"....

we embraced each day, as there came one more,
we let no emotions fly,
there was no special bond. we always thought what for?
we never watched stars, never looked to the sky,

I dont know when, how for sure,
but things have changed, oh my!
there are three of us now, each other we ensure,
it wont be so hard , in the lonely times ahead that lie,


but he's leaving now, leaving us at the door,
"Im proud of what you have been" he had said,Im wondering why,
I am curious, I want to ask him again, more
But he's gone and I realise I have begun to cry....

THE END.... OR ... THE BEGINNING?

I look out the window. I see her walk away. I wish that time would freeze. The jerk shakes me, the bus is moving away, she is going farther away from me, farther than I had ever imagined. I feel strange, no I am not sad, I am not happy, I am wondering instead... how come this moment that I have feared for days now has not ripped me apart?

Strangely I am calm, calmer than I should be. She is my friend, the best I have got. I could never tell you what she means to me in words.... she is worth so much more. I know this is the last Ill see her for years to come, and yet I feel no tears down my cheek?

Then I realise that this is not the end... it is our begining. True, the last four years have come to an end, but we have used that time to create an build somethin so beautifull. The winds of change may steer its wings in different direction but its beauty shall see the end of eternity.

We have planted a baby seed deep into the ground, and Ill wait and watch it grow with years. I will pray that it will stand the stronger winds, the harsher rains.

I will pray...