Labor of love

More often than not,

we call up our fathers

asking whereabouts of our mothers.

Some like me, end up seeking advice 

for sorting our professional messes. 

That's about it.

The depth of our conversations

with our sires.

Stammered, hesitant splutters.

Not knowing where to start

and what to talk about.

Silent acceptance of his role. 

An unspoken understanding. 

Somewhere in the labor of steering

the family, 

fathers become that strict, sidelined

non-indulging parent,

nurturing dutifully. 

But 'neath that tough, 

difficult facade, 

he is brimming with love. 

Gallons and gallons of love.

Strengthening us.

To face the struggles of survival. 

Happy father's day

June 13, 2023, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about fathers in general, or a specific father. You can use different names — Papa, Daddy, Fabio. What is significant about a father? Write an homage, rant, comedy, tragedy, or anything in between. Go where the prompt leads!

Linking with June 13: Story Challenge in 99-words

#99wordstories #carrotranch

Welfare unto all 

Rab rakha 

Spring and storm

It was a beautiful spring morning. 

Greyish white cotton floating against

greyish blue backdrop.

Clean, fresh, cool breeze.

Birds chirping. 

And amidst this newness, this bloom, 

this freshness, a beautiful early sun 

was peeking through the lush green leaves 

of a garden tree.

And though the scene above was pretty,

the tulips in the lawn had all wilted 

due to excessive rains. 

And this reminded me of our dear Farmers. 

Baisakhi is round the corner. 

Usually at this time of the year,

the fields glisten with golden wheat

ready for harvest. 

But these mistimed rains have spoilt 

their crops. 

I shudder at the thought of their loss. 

So today's tanka is driven by these thoughts. 

 

And it rained all night,
the downpour inopportune.
Red tulips drooping.
Farmers worrying for wheat.
Gold glittering on moist morn.

Welfare unto all 

Rab rakha 

Doodling an angel

A pen in my hand,

mind wandering, thoughts adrift.

I often doodle.

 

Nothing concrete, nothing specific.

Random tracings, casual rough drawings.

Lines taking shapes,

of huts, flowers, mandals.

Caricatures on diary pages.

 

Social feed is full.

Short reels, easy sketching hacks.

Tutorials too.

Stimulated, I attempt,

Oblivious to world.

 

Quick glance at DIY books.

The first task is to find a muse.

Still, motionless…

I find my inspiration in a whatsapp sticker.

 

On a crisp A4 sheet,

disproportionate kitty,

scribbled with HB lead.

 

FM play in the background.

A maid scuttles around with chores.

Something sizzles in kitchen.

I draw.

 

I draw.

And then subtly

cotton-blend my first creation.

I feel happy within.

 

Ah! Someday mayhaps,

I too shall master this craft.

Learning like poems.

 

And here I am.

Giving finishing touches to

Angel…

 

All this while, my mind is wandering,

thoughts adrift.

Hurriedly I scribble on a rough sheet,

some random words.

A couple of redrafts.

 

And here I am.

Giving finishing touches to

Angel…

Welfare unto all

Rab Rakha

The voice within

There are chambers in our hearts,

cavities,

where our thoughts dwell. 

And while some of these pockets 

are filled with light,

airy, ventilated and vibrant;

some are dark, dank pits,

abysmal and abominable.

Both exhort. 

Both persuade. . 

Both have a voice. 

An orotund voice,

loud and clear.

Alchemizing us. 

Rama and Ravana 

dwell within us, 

in these niches.

Welfare unto all

Rab rakha 

Your love is so generous

For your love is so generous,

that a simple dish

becomes delicacy in your hands.

And if I try and try,

the same recipe, the same method,

with the same ingredients

over and over again,

that special flavor goes missing.

The dish is complete

and yet so incomplete.

And I do not know

when you add that dollop of

special secret stuff

because I try and watch you all the time

but somehow I miss it every-time.

And it is not just food.

Its everything.

The way you iron my clothes,

the way you braid my hair,

the way you serve me milk,

the way you encourage me

to inch further … rise high and fly …

all things big and small,

you do it with that

“mother’s extra special touch”.

And for that no words of thank you suffice.

Linking with FMF Writing Prompt Link up : Generous

The sentinel

 Beyond the bethel,

mundane humdrum existence. 

People going about their routines,

rushing with their chores and errands.

Everyone, hurrying for everything.

And the bethel stands there,

watching it all unfold in its lap. 

The hamlet waking up at cockcrow, 

running helter-skelter from dawn to dark,

and finally, 

yawning and slumbering at witching hours. 

At times, the faithful visit the precincts,

gravitating herewards to find peace

in its sacred confines. 

But that's not often too.

And yet the bethel stands sentinel, 

watching our comings and goings. 

Dutifully, the bells toll,

the tradition remains. 

A subtle pause midst all the hustling.

Linking owith Friday Fictioneers

Welfare unto all 

Rab rakha 

Up the mountains

 Up the mountains, 

far, far away, 

'neath a sloping green roof, 

inside the mahogany walls, 

Amma lives.

With endless stories in her kilta, 

fresh green apples on the table,

and prisitine snow outside.

Wrinkles, of course, where smiles were, 

fine folds of skin, 

creases, 

telling that she has seen it all, 

the summers, the winters... 

infinite vagaries of weather.

And that she is not done yet.

Sun-kissed, 

stubborn and spirited too, 

spontaneously swirling

to the traditional beats,

there's a purity in her laughter.

That's her world precisely. 

Her hill, her orchards and her people.

And that's her life.

Simple. Joyous.

Welfare unto all

Rab rakha 

Unedited ramblings - Nature

 There are these subtle

simple laws of nature.

So easy at first sight.

And then you look deeper.

Just a little below the surface. 

And it's astounding elements 

reveal themselves.

What appears so simple

has a layer of surprising elements

throbbing at the core

and working in perfect synchronization. 

Every component that is there

is a masterpiece in itself. 

Not just unique. 

But also a powerful display of

what nature is capable of.

We, mortals, mostly, 

undermine this fact.

Looking only superficially.

And trying to win it over with our sciences.

But every time we try and play God,

nature hits us with something so unbelievable

that we are left dwarfed in our efforts.

These are times when we feel

absolute surrender to this magnificence, 

Complete submission to the might of nature. 

Life, almost entirely, is a rare artefact...

Picture prompt : https://www.digitalphotopix.com/amazing-nature/weird-nature/

Linking with Simply 6 Minutes – Welcome to the Challenge: 05/03/2022

Another day, another chance

Another day, another chance.

At life and at living.

Yet another prospect

to prefect this art.

To draw the right strokes.

To smudge and shade the gradients.

Oh! And what a blessing it is!

To see the night retiring,

leaving the door, ajar,

allowing the light to rush in,

the blushing dawn

spreading its tippet,

and the prismatic scattering

that follows,

consuming the night.

Slowly. Definitely.

Yes!

Another day. Another chance.

Second. Third… Millionth. Zillionth chance.

To breathe.

To believe.

To be busily astir.

And to beget.

Your very own concrete rose.

Mayhaps a little flawed,

but undoubtedly immensely blessed.

Seated amidst ruins #10blogs10days

This scribbling relates to not just a personal experience but also to an underlying element of taking things for granted, how the presence or rather absence of something adds value to routine. It also subtly hints at the value and the importance of knowledge in our life. The forest like mind of ours needs the benevolence of Ma Sarswati to stay on righteous path.Seated amidst ruins...micro-poetry attempted in free verse, is about an idol I saw in the defunct University campus.


The breezy shades of ficus,
sprawling lawn, unkempt though,
badminton court, strewn with foliage
rusty benches, waiting,
for regular visitors,
their unfinished stories hanging in the air,
stranded lecture halls,
scribblings of last tutorials,
gazing forlornly from the whiteboards,
broken furniture, haphazardly stored
in vacant niches.
Screeching silence.
But when you enter
the now defunct premises,
her presence holds you.
Mesmerizing eyes.
Benevolent smile.
Radiant with love.
Inviting with serenity.
The pathway to her seat guarded,
by flourishing wild basil and grass
amidst one or two flowering plants.
Encased in a glass chamber,
a queen on her throne,
oblivious,
to the emptiness surrounding her.
There were times,
when the campus was full of life.
But mayhaps,
this mother of wisdom,
Ma Sarswati,
was overlooked then.
Presence, devalued.
And now in this vacuity,
She is the only solace.
Only companion.




Welfare unto all
Rab rakha 

Bliss

Sweet bliss, 

beneath the surface of night, 

and then, 

hushed, hasty unveiling

of the rosy dawn.

Ah! The reminisces.

Linking with Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge

Welfare unto all

Rab rakha 🤗 🤗 🤗 

Dream #writephoto

I looked at the prompt picture and was instantly reminded of the timeless number 'Dekha ek khwaab'.

After toying with the idea and words... I came up with my translation of the spellbinding musical inspiration.

And as far as I can see,
the mesmerizing spread of
blooming lavender flowerbeds,
'twixt us.
Such an overwhelming,
stunning,
and engulfing,
array of emotions.
Such rash of events.
And all because of one dream.
One beautiful, wondrous reverie.
Life, with you in it.

Linking with #writephoto at Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

This week's prompt - dream

Deep within, our heavens

Lavish skies, heart seeks
that tempting plush plenitude.
Heaven, deep within.

Linking with

Colleen’s 2020 Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 184, #SpecificForm

The glint of love

Love, like shards of glass, 
with inhibitions, broken, 
gleaming in the light.

Linking with RonovanWrites 

Lost wanderers

And they started...
On a long road.
Miles of journey.
One burning desire.
To reach their homes,
to that embrace of love.
Setting skies did not matter.
Nor did rising sun.
Like birds at eventide,
they flew back,
to their only shelter in this storm.
Migrants,
that’s what they call them,
these itinerants afoot,
yearning, pining for their nests.
In verity though,
we are all migratory birds.
Tiny specks,
lost wanderers on this atlas.
Ramblers in search of our haven,
somewhere within the deepest,
quietest chambers of our own heart,
where the soul strums in rhythm.
Definitely, a long road ahead.
Miles of journey,
meandering curves,
wilderness too.
One burning desire.
To reach home.

Linking with Sammi Cox Weekend Writing Prompt 

Thy True name

Faith in Thy True name! 
With Thy grace, dead wood blossoms,
Without thee, we wilt. 
Alive, kindled with your love,
Thy Sparrowhawks pine for Thee.

Satnam Sri Waheguru. Satnam Sri Waheguru. 

Welfare unto all 

Linking with Blogging from A to Z April Challenge 

Walking in faith

Let's walk in Faith in Lord Almighty

Hymns reverberate,
Thy word reassures scared souls.
We seek Thee, our Lord,
And Thee abides in our hearts,
reaching down to us with Love.

Have a divine Good Friday!!!

#AtoZChallenge #amwriting #micropoetry #freeverse #poetry #tanka #spiritual #blessings #prayer #imploration #devotion #zen #therapeutic #meditation #mindfulness #gratitude #abundance #grace #light #faith #faithingod #goodfriday #napowrimo
#welfareuntoall #rabrakha

Welfare unto all
Rab rakha 🤗 🤗 🤗

Linking with Blogging from A to Z 

Linking with Purposeful Faith 

Hail thee, O gracious!

Hail thee, O gracious!
Thee forever in our mind,
This heart sings thy praise.
You guard our faltering steps,
You train our learning hands, Lord!

Welfare unto all 

Linking with Blogging from A to Z April Challenge 

Hail, O wide-hearted one

O wide-hearted one,
Covered with dust of Thy feet,
We are healed, made whole.
For Thy name breaks afflictions,
embalms the broken spirit.

Jai Jai Jai Hanuman Gosai!!!

Linking with Blogging from A to Z April Challenge

Linking with Purposeful Faith

Welfare unto all 

Thou art the doer

You hold our strings, Lord!
We, the puppets in your plot,
Thou art the doer.
Thy melody in our hearts,
resonant echoes of grace!

Welfare unto all

Linking with Blogging from A to Z April Challenge