Thursday, 20 December 2007

My Magic Child



They call her a square peg
She's my soft, simple primrose in
a garden of orchids.


She's their public joke
A helpless scapegoat caught in a
Cross-fire of the so-called sane.

And she's my pride:
A girl who makes me realize
The tangibility
poignancy
The existential quality of
Life.

But even they make allowances.
They call her beautiful.
Yes, she's that...
Fine of face with
Large, long-lashed
Lackadaisical eyes.

That's what hits them.

And I love her-
Despite the fact that she'll never
understand it.

Because she'll always be in
Her own world;
That comforts, consoles her
When the outside world hurts.

They call her an autistic.
But she's my magic child.


Usha, 1984

Friday, 14 December 2007

CARCINOMA


my hand stretches out

unbiddingly -
involuntarily
to reach for the long slim

cigarette.


shaking fingers

burn it to life
scorching it
crumbling it to ashes

taking its breath away
to make me feel.


the white cloud

streams free -
after capture in
rotting lungs.

I know-
I know-
my time has come
as it meant to
relentlessly
crushed out like the
last remains of a long

slim cigarette


the hot orange
stifled to grey ash

And still I do it
Dear god -
Still I do it.




7 March, '84

Wednesday, 12 December 2007

WE












Like the brilliance
a shower of broken glass;
Like the riot of colour
at the peak of spring;
Like the music of a hundred
different birds, sounding together;
Like a pleading cry of an
unloved child
And the desolate heart of
a lonely lover
And a whispering look of an
unwanted pup...

I see myself shatter
blowing my fuse
exploding into a million pieces
deep inside - We

Usha, 11 March '84

.

.

Pirouette




Flounce your tutu
My Child
Of Self confidence
Perched on the toes
Of the Faith in yourself!

I watch you
Dear One,
Sure that you
Can do it!

I urge you silently
Shed that fear...
And do the pointe...
Step up on your toes

Now!

Ah yes! Let your
Hands lift, so gently,
Gracefully,
Curve upwards.

And I hold my breath...
The first step-
Swaying, dipping,
A flourish...

And then,





You give me the magic
In that leap-
And the pirouette-
Spinning, and spinning...

Slowing...

Stopping.
Flushed!

Then you curtsy.
Your smile,
in wonder,
When you look at me

Says it All!!

And all I want to say is-
I told you so!



Usha, December 11, 2007
.
.


Sunday, 9 December 2007

The Impossible Dream

To dream the impossible dream
To fight the unbeatable foe
To bear with unbearable sorrow
To run where the brave dare not go

To right the unrightable wrong
To love pure and chaste from afar
To try when your arms are too weary
To reach the unreachable star

This is my quest
To follow that star
No matter how hopeless
No matter how far

To fight for the right
Without question or pause
To be willing to march into Hell
For a heavenly cause

And I know if I'll only be true
To this glorious quest
That my heart will lie peaceful and calm
When I'm laid to my rest

And the world will be better for this
That one man, scorned and covered with scars
Still strove with his last ounce of courage
To reach the unreachable star

*******

These are the inspiring words of the song from the film, The Man from La Mancha, the story of Don Quixote... for me a Knight Extraordinaire...

A song that fills me up everytime I listen to it, and makes me want to put in that much more of myself in all that I do... Here it is, a rare clip from the film itself....I hope it will move you too, in the same way...:)

*******

Saturday, 1 December 2007

A Salute!















More precious than the
Moment I held you
In my arms-

More dearer than the
Moment I watched you
Take that first step-

More firmer my faith
Than that moment
You chose your path ahead;

Biting back my gasps;
But making sure you knew
My hand was there-
To hold and guide and support and comfort....

For, only you know-
How torturous the road was;
To this threshold you now are at,
Sailing rough waters.

To pass under that
Quarterdeck.

I saw you
Proud, straight-
The perfect salute;
The smile that played
on your lips.

This mother now,
With pride anew in you,
Hands you over, to our Mother;

With the deepest respect;
For, more precious, more dear
Are you now.

And more firmer my faith
In all that you will do.

A Salute to you
My son!!


Usha, 1 December, '07
.
.
.
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