Summer of 2009

Often you don’t expect things that you dream in the broad daylight to happen to you..
Often you don’t see things the way they are although they scream out their sanctity loud..
Often you want to do something that you have secretly dreamt all your life and yet you are apprehensive to take a step towards it just because you are not good at it or may be the world will laugh at you!

But not very often you can let your hair down, be in the moment and savor every single pleasure life has to offer. In life’s struggle to get going, finish your job and get few appraisals in your own terms, its difficult to find child-like joy, disbarring all thoughts and actions that doesn’t matter, ignoring the world around and doing just the thing you want to do.

In that sense this summer has been truly gratifying for me. Why! In every sense this summer has been a pure stream of joy. Gusts of lessons trying to mould me stronger and more confident, waves of happiness, anxiety, relief, pride, faith, modesty, love, regret, shame, assurance all taking their turns to wash me thorough and rays of new hope beaconing me towards my long standing dreams… God knows it’s been a roller coaster season for me. I had never considered in my wildest imaginative world that I’d do all that I liked within the span of 3-4 months.. May be not perfectly, but atleast I gave everything I wanted, a try!! I discovered the joy of bending to my fantasies and doing things just the way I wanted to..

Hardly any classes this semester and it gave a lot of scope for other activities. I got back to playing badminton like after 12 years! And I realized I’m not all that bad at it.. My dad’s struggle to teach me for 5-6 years hadn’t gone futile. For the first time I entered the badminton court in my college! After 4 years.. I know its ridiculous but for someone who spent all her time in auditoriums for fests and other cultural activities, you should give her a benefit of slack judgement. Guys in my class were encouraging about it and gave great company while playing. Must thank Pooja here ‘cos she was the one who unburied the topic of badminton from the lost depths of my mind. It proved to be a great form of exercise to my then troubled mind and body and also made some good friends in the process.:)
I also got to hold a tennis racket and try few hits.. It’s a tough game!! :O

Trekking had always been a secret wish of mine and for once things worked out as planned. It took some effort to gather people around but thanks to Sanath, Karthik and my dad, without whom it wouldn’t have happened. In order to get a huge group going I called in a lot of people I knew from different fields. May be that was the only mistake I did.. I couldn’t stay with any group for long and in the march I was left out all alone mostly. But I’m not complaining. I still enjoyed it. Although I realized my fitness levels suck big time, I still want to go back.. I tried getting the group together once again for another trek but nature seemed to tell me I’m pushing my luck too far! Nevertheless, it was a great experience.. I’d go back to nature anytime.. May be ill post the details under another topic.

Ah! Then came basketball.. Seeing the guys team in my college win most of the tournaments they played, it sort of pumped me up too.. I hadn’t played a match in like 5 years & although I loved this game much more than any other I just couldn’t get back to playing because of various reasons.. Thanks to Shek, Tintin, Daddy and Jams.. Once they knew I used to play in school they encouraged me to play with them whenever we bunked classes (which we did after the first 2 hours everyday!) I am nowhere close to them in terms of the game but it still got that deep-seated passion for the game in me out in the open. Was quite apprehensive too but Shek and Tintin got me all comfortable.. They really didn’t seem to mind my horrible try at the hoops.. Really thanks a ton guys.. If not for these 4 guys especially Jams here may be I wouldn’t have joined the girls’ team for practice. I participated in VTU tournament as well.. Trained for 15 days under a superb coach and I had a jersey after a long long time!! All together I might have played for 15 minutes max in the tournament, but atleast I got a feel of it after a long long time.
Shek being the best on court, I had confided in him that I wanted to get back to playing ball, he immediately spoke to the coach of NGV, Koramangala (the same one as before) where he played and the coach readily took me up too… I was asked to go to practice every Sunday morning!! It initially again freaked me out.. Everyone there would be seasoned players and I’d make a big fool out of myself. But again as Shek put it and which I felt made sense- I didn’t have a reputation to maintain. I could afford to make mistakes. I am as good as a beginner so it shouldn’t bother how I play amongst those experienced. I am going for those practices regularly.. I was getting close to the ball and closer to the hoops.. Some glee ran through my veins. ;) Now that I am going there I want more.. I still need to build my game.. It rejuvenates me even though its just once a week prac and I don’t do anything appreciable! :D

Although my entire time was taken up by project work, basketball and others, I missed music. I had neglected it cos there were so many other things I wanted t do.. And that clearly showed in the unease I felt most of the time.. I realized whatever new stuff I may try and how much ever I would neglect music for something else even though momentarily, I know music is in me.. No one can take it out of me. For any reason. And I can’t neglect it even if I want to. I started singing anywhere and everywhere because of lack of time. Something that I was too shy to do.. It sort of got me some peace. And whenever I got time I used to have a full fledged practice and to my own surprise I was getting quite innovative without making mistakes!! :)

My project work was something that I was happy doing cos I know I wouldn’t have done a good job if I had chosen anything other than aerospace. This project sometimes got on my nerves but nothing is perfect in this world. I realized that too.. I thought I had made a wrong choice about my partner when everyone else said so (my mind was blissfully blank until then about this issue). But on deeper thinking I understood that I wouldn’t have got a better partner than Kala.. Thanks to him.. I couldn’t have imagined the same amount of work from someone else. He always does a great job when he is around. Only problem being he had too many commitments and was crunched for time. Yeah, we did have and probably still do have a lot of misunderstandings.. Each of us have spoken against the other in public when our nerves had gone all frenzy for different reasons, But being professional is something else that I have mastered over the past 4 years and again the best part-he is too! Learnt quite some stuff from him that I can put to use in future. Thanks Kala! ;)

One sense of achievement that reigned me through the summer is the admission I got in Delft University. :) I dunno if Ill be going for sure because of several hurdles to be crossed but this summer it definitely has been one hot topic of discussion at home and convincing parents, although a tedious task, was worth the effort.. Convincing my mom is an arduous task. Through all this may be I have improved my skills in winning over arguments! :D Thanks to all the people who showed confidence in me and who encourage and motivate me to achieve what i dream all the time- hamsa, suma aunty, karthik, srinivas, adarsh, sanath, kitty mama,Ann, butterchicken and many many more..

Apart from all this, mom’s made different kinds of happala, sandige, mango pickles and everything possible with mangoes! :D slllllluuurrrrrppp.. Reminds me of my childhood summer days with jo and her cousins.. Those games in sand dunes, in the attics of our houses, camping at each others place.. Blissful days.. :)

And lastly, even though I know this article is ridiculously large and if you have skimmed through till the end or actually read it! (Please let me know if you have-I’ll treat you*!;) ) I still feel great cos this is what I wanted to do today after a good jog and a nice game of badminton with dad!;) I wanted to write everything down without having to bother about the quality or quantity of literature and I wanted to put it up on my blog.. And so am I doing it! :)

*- You'll have to pass a quiz on this article! lol! :D

Swathi Krishna
17/05/09

Consecrated Words...

Look me in the eye. Its okay if your scared,so am I. But we're scared for different reasons, I'm scared of what I won't become, and your scared of what I could become. look at me. I won't let myself end where I started, I won't let myself finish where I began, I know what is within me; even if you can't see it yet. Look me in the eyes. I have something more important than courage, I have patience, I will become what I know I am ...

I have never fallen in love with anyone's quotes this much. Its so inspirational, something that deserves a sacred status. It means above all other, so true, so simple yet so deep, so assuring and so encouraging. I have been reading this everyday when I go online. Gives me a new found hope. Some driving force these words are.. Something I'd like to believe-I do- something that soothes me, something that makes me dream bigger and better, something that makes me chase them, something that makes me smile at the problems standing in my way to reach those dreams... Something that drives my complex beyond the blue when I see other achievers. I may not have done anything till now that I can be proud of,I know it.. But I also know it wont stay that way for long. You will see it..The world will see it.. Look me in the eyes... I will become what I know I am..
Even though this legend who said these words was a born one, not made, he still makes me think I can be one too!!
Respect Mr.Michael Jordan!! \m/

On the lam..

I wake up from my slumber,
Talking things with my psyche,
I realize the journey to be embarked,
Has found its time to depart.

I walk through the mist
Hazed and sleepy as a log,
I cannot see a thing of the ulterior,
I just tread in the rumbles of the path.

I know not where the dark leads,
But have I set out with a fortitude so rare,
The eremitic elements of nature call out
To cark my resolve of years from the past.

I climb along the pathless alleys,
With the stitch in my rib squalling gore,
I cross the rivers, mountains and shores,
For the only love I truly have wallowed.

High on the rocks, far from the ground,
I squat to think of the mystic later,
The haze around slowly dissolves,
The chill defeats me less and my breath unthaws..

Then came the light through the revery,
Just a band of colours hugging the winds,
I hear my heart, wild and expectant,
Knowing what am I truly looking for.

The tiny globe of crimson unveils,
The countless opportunities strayed beyond,
The first rays of the golden orb embrace me tight,
With the dew whistling in the morning light.

My scarred skin irradiates on the summit,
Refurbishes my soul through depths,
The drift of pastures high and might,
Oppugn my grit and dreams of long..

I refuse to give up,
I refuse to give in,
There, is my destiny,
There, is my everything,
My one love is all I own.

I stand up on my recuperating feet,
Overlooking the million roads,
I spot the one that I decide to trek,
With faith immense and pleasure galore..

I set out with a renewed vigour,
With a smile I feel unfeigned,
I know my dreams are just near the orb,
Fatigue can wait along with the world apart.

I run with insanity and rage of hope,
Laughter ringing through the flush of grass,
My ragged attire poise no gainsay,
I lam from my past and head for more...

This voyage discovers the true me,
With the endless expanse of roads alone,
All the roads, I know, will lead to my Rome,
To meet my destiny, my love and the dreams I adore.....


aeroyogi
8/3/09

I dunked too!!

This fictitious story was originally written by my very good friend in recent times- 'Butterchicken'., albeit aeroyogi has a teeny weeny role in the making of this creative gibberish. :) So i take the liberty of adding it on to my blog too! This has been an experiment at least for me.. so do post in your comments about it.

Dunk..miss..dunk..miss.. It was impossible not to miss the sudden replacement that my body, my heart to be precise, had taken to in this chronicle of a life that I’m living in. The lub..dub..lub..dub that methodically ran my circulatory system had undertaken a new Dunk..miss..dunk..miss style of working.
I hated it. Every special moment now rang a Dunk..miss..dunk..miss bell. It all began as a sincere mistake that I made, when I watched him play. Dunk..miss..dunk..miss.. To the power infinity!
The bizarreness of this rhythm began when ‘he’ dunked and the other ‘he’ missed. When he dunked again and the another ‘he’ missed . I watched this eye popping entertainment with utmost ardor and now I am a victim. I, who fervently lived a life that had an ‘absence of guilt’ tag on it until recently, was overridden by guilt. During this episode, I developed a feeling of animosity toward my always so charged, thumping pal, my heart! I noticed how every time he was around, the Dunk..miss..dunk..miss rang louder than before. I feared being heard, especially by him. It was hard enough that I didn’t exist for him.

Everyday I watched him play. As I got nearer and nearer to the front seat in the stadium, I noticed how the reaction on his face felt like a new one every time he dunked . He may have played a million games, some of which could have been wonderful and some atrocious by nature, but he wore an expression of ease and satisfaction in the end. Charm came to him easily, everyone noticed that. But what people dint notice was how he strove for perfection with each game he played and how he smiled at the end of it all, even when he missed and the other he dunked. People comprehend basketball as only a game, but I saw it as an art. An art that he brought to life, being the infallible artist that he was.

My guilt stuck to me.. He came... Dunk..miss..dunk..miss.. He left! The guilt became an overbearing torture, when he dunked at his ball game but missed noticing how I sat there earnestly watching him play. I told myself it dint matter. I was just a fan. I admired, I appreciated and I also aspired to know him. At the end of the day I somehow convinced myself that I was there only for the sheer joy of the game and to support the only able basketball player that ruled the court. This knowledge brought about pensive sadness, that wrapped me like how my moms hand had wrapped itself around my two year old fingers, when we went for a walk.

My love of the game kept me near the front seat almost everyday. I came to understand that maybe because I wasn’t noticed by him, unlike the others, I was lucky enough to share this space of a never like before understanding with the unparalleled player. This point of view that made me beam with happiness brought me to the stadium on a day when I should’ve not wanted to miss my classes. Our college team played the visitors on this day, a day that marked the beginning of a saga that I became a part of. I thought of it as the perfect day to acknowledge my appreciation, as a true fan. I owed him that. ‘Congratulations, dude’, ‘congrats, pal’, ‘good work, buddy’.. I rehearsed. Everything seemed fuzzy, as a matter of fact on that day even fuzzy logic seemed so clear! I decided at the end of the game, after their victory, I will have it worked out somehow. That’s when they lost. He lost. He missed and the other ‘he’s’ dunked. What made it worse was his smile. Although the other girls went crazy seeing it, I noticed the essence of melancholy that it had brought with it. I was disheartened, owing to many reasons. For starters, I missed out on that opportunity to talk to him, I’d never rehearsed a ‘well played, dude’ or a ‘next-time it’ll be you man!’. I hated myself. I turned back, swearing to wriggle out of this whole basketball obsession that I had coated myself in. Enough was enough, I told myself! That’s when he called out my name. I couldn’t have missed that. If I had a basketball right then, I swear to god I would have made a dunk shot. He smiled. I hated that. It was so alluring, so beguile. Unparalleled. I mustered courage enough to say a hi. He apologized. I cant exactly describe my reaction to that, I now don’t really remember how it could have been. But anyway he apologized. He said he was sorry, that he let me down and that he’d planned to win this game and talk to me. Alas things hadn’t worked that way he said, but we’d still talked, rather he’d talked. He also told me, how he kept wanting to play, whenever I was in the stadium, just so that I could stay there a little bit longer. My heart leapt with joy.. As a kid I’d always imagined the earth spinning as fast as a top. As crazy as it sounded then I‘d dreaded just the idea, but I wished for it to happen now. However at that moment, time, that always had been too busy speeding up, bothered to wait for me. I don’t know how long it took, for me to touch base with planet Earth and then with my numbed brain. He was still standing anticipating nothing in particular. That’s when it happened.. Dunk..miss..dunk..miss.. My heart steadfastly began sounding its favorite rhythm. It felt like I’d crossed the finish line to win the race I’d always been running in my subconscious mind.
I smiled. I had to.

A great ball player that he was, he was more than that on the inside. He was brilliant with words as astounding as he was with handling the ball. He played around with his brain in a speed just as he dribbled the ball; even one with the most acute eyesight could never follow his hands to the second. His zest for life was better than any of his famous 3 pointers and he could easily sweep anyone off the floor as gracefully as he went for a drive in shot. His annotates hit the home just as every ball that flew off his hands went smashing through the rim.

Three years hence, I now see how he’s done it all for himself. He has gratified life’s ups and downs as though they were some form of a high-spirited merriment. What made him a different kettle of fish was that no matter how garrulous or significant whatever you had to say was, he always listened. I was surprised how his not so mellifluent singing ability failed to drive any of us away. We’ve become the best of friends now. If there’s anything more, might join up sometime or maybe not. Whatever the relation , I wouldn’t know if there’s ever been a friend like him. And I must remember to confess, I still am a true fan.
The Dunk..miss..dunk..miss.. I cant live without now!


Butterchicken with a teeny bit of aeroyogi..
6/3/09

Dad, me and the shuttlecock

At the age of 5, when most kids played around with other five-year-olds, I played with my dad. That was mainly because there were no kids around my place then.. I had friends who were graduating college or working!

My dad’s an avid promoter of badminton although he knows its rules less than an amateur. He always has felt that badminton is a very good form of exercise. The points, rules everything has to be neglected and the players have to run around from one end to the other and hit hard. That’s it. No arguments.

My dad taught me how to hold a racket when I was 5. Though its ages since then and I have forgotten most things, that scene is still vivid in my mind. He firmly held my small wrist in his rough but concerned hands and rounded my fingers on the bat. The bat was too heavy for me then, I remember throwing it down again and again. I was such a sissy..

As mentioned earlier dad never felt the need to teach the rules. I needed exercise and someone to play with and he was helping in both. Dad’s always had this thing-he wanted me to be active and in his terms active is defined as running around quickly going wherever the shuttlecock goes regardless of whether I hit it back at him or not; to pick up the shuttlecock wherever it falls, even if its on his side of the so called court.(The court here is the small road, probably 15 feet wide and an imaginative boundary in length).

I have no idea how dad had the patience to bear with the amount of my complaining, crying, brooding and idling with the bat held slackly in hand. But it was not without his venting out his frustration, may be, on me by making me pick up the shuttlecock from all over the place.

Those days there wasn’t a stone bed covering the side drains, which ran along the front of each house which, now you can mostly find in all places in Bangalore. The drains, which were dry most of the times, sometimes carried the entire dirt, waste, the plastic bags torn apart by the street dogs combined with sludge during rainy seasons. It harbored cockroaches, rats and many more gnawers and insects whose names I don’t know even after these many years. I was made to get into them in case the shuttlecock fell into it by any chance. Playing outdoors and that too on a street, which had this enormous Gulmohar tree, so magnanimous in shedding its bright yellow flowers all over the road as if welcoming each and everyone in a royal manner had another disadvantage. The shuttle got stuck every now and then in the already entangled branches of the tree. I had to run into the backyard, dig up the long wooden rod kept amongst a million other things and start a process of hitting the branches with that stick. It was like a circus show but lots of fun. The neighbors used to get to know if the shuttlecock was stuck in the branches in no time. I now wonder how!! Half the residents used to come out and give suggestions. It used to turn out like some theatre drama! Each person standing in different places in different angles trying to get the shuttlecock as though it was a princess in distress and the one who got her out was to win a kingdom! Lol! :D Great days rather evenings..

Saying this doesn’t mean dad was bad at the game. He wasn’t exactly professional but he knew how to get the juice out of the yield. He was fast and I envied him at times even then!

Dad made sure I was involved in everything! This was working fine until my brain started growing and I was able to fathom my dad’s ideas. Until then I listened to him without a word but then the little rebel in me had spurted out of the seed. I refused to be made run around picking up shuttlecocks whenever it fell down. Ha! Human nature had begun to take a toll on me transforming me from that innocent kid to something that is a phase on the way to adolescence. What do you call it by the way? Its as bad as adolescence.

Well, then began our fights.

Fights-another phenomenon that happens cos’ individuals cant be righteous, compromise, adjust and understand well all at the same time when time demands all of these!!

Every time I was asked to do something, I just shot back, he reciprocated and it continued till it went physical that we threw racquets at each other and stuff.. An onlooker would have thought we were some international rivals!! :p Yeah, my dad was my friend, more like a brother than a father! He gave me enough liberty to throw a racquet in his direction. Wonder why? He needn’t have had to.

Finally, a girly girl as I was then, unlike now, would end up in tears and he would throw up his hands in exasperation and would leave in full angst. I was no less. Wouldn’t speak to him until he got me a plate of pani or bhel puri!(one weakness that hasn’t rubbed off me even now!) And the next day we would get back to our little ingenious court and the story used to continue, day after day, week after week. Soon my dad got transferred when I was 8 or 9 I guess to Dandeli. Mom and me stayed back for preventing disruption in my studies.

He wasn’t there. Much as I wanted to play with my only best friend from childhood, I couldn’t, I missed all of it to certain extent. I never realized what I had got and what I was losing. I was losing touch of the game. But no use of complaining. So I joined basketball in school. I was into plays, winning prizes for acting and stuff. I got into the school sports band, learnt playing all instruments, and went on to become the band lead. I completed my music and Hindi degree exams. Guess that was the best part of my life.

Basketball is another totally different story and Ill probably write it in another post.

I had my hands full and didn’t think about Badminton. Didn’t miss it much.

Years passed, without a glance towards those racquets. They were getting rusted, literally, I might have thrown it away too. Dad came back, stayed here, again got transferred twice to different places and returned in all the time that passed. I’m not sure he missed playing me either. In all his transfers, I knew that he used to play with his colleagues there continuously for hours at a stretch. May be he too didn’t like fighting with me in those small precious family reunions lasting for couple of days once in two or three months.

Badminton slowly became synonymous to fighting for dad and me. And we avoided the topic also many a times. Life just went on..

We shifted our house recently to another locality, not very far but far enough to change the municipality we'd vote under.

It was at this time when I went to get my electoral card done, that I saw a father-daughter pair playing badminton. Same story. Ditto like my dad’s and mine. I began laughing aloud amidst an unknown crowd. I think all over the world dads are similar and so are daughters, atleast most of them, who aren’t blessed with a drive to achieve heights in Badminton. We just play for recreation. I just sent a message to my dad’s cell describing the situation.

It was probably after a very long time, long enough for it to seem that probably we never played together at all, may be like in a dream, that we spoke about the old times after 11 years. Felt nostalgic and that was to it. Nothing more in action.

Now after about a year, I suddenly pestered him for racquets early in the morning. Out of the blue, when pooja, my only gal classmate expressed her desire to get back at playing badminton, I felt like I wanted to play too!

He asked me to remind him in the evening. I kept sending reminders so many times to his cell that he was all curious to know what the fuss was all about. He eventually got it. And we started playing at around 8 in the night till 10.. Not as bad as I thought it would be for playing after 12 years. I missed few shots here and both lost equal number of rally.

But what had changed is that I was no longer not willing to pick up the shuttlecock where it had fallen, and he was no longer forcing me to bend down. I infact understood now why he used to ask me to do all the picking up, why he wanted me to get more physical work. He has grown old, but hasn’t lost the spirit. I’m not sure if any of the 55-year-old dads play with their adult kids these days that too after a hard, grueling day at work. I am 21 years old and he shows the same enthusiasm as I do, albeit he gets tired after around half to three fourth of an hour. A threshold which has considerably reduced over the years. Feel a little sad about it, but even now I have no one else to play with here. ‘Cos all my new neighbors are 5-year-olds going to kindergarten and school…

Dad doesn’t look like he is getting old. But he is! People in his office and outside tell him every now and then. He doesn’t wear branded stuff but all colors and prints match him to the dot. He gets complimented about his energy and zest for life every other day and wherever he goes. He recently (about a couple of weeks back) climbed an 8 km high vertical mountain easily in his leather slippers as though it was his daily walking grounds when others like me were panting for breath!

But today he is tired after half an hour, when I am not. He can’t run from one end of our still small court to the other now like the way he used to. I generally used to call it a day when I was young, but now its dad. I don’t want to force him either. I wanted to play for some more time but he couldn’t. He is still my only best friend for games but he isn’t the same.

Irony of life-when he wanted me to play upto his standards, I was foolish and took everything he said against me personal, not for my good. Now when I have risen to his standards, he is no condition to play how he used to. I’m disappointed now. I look to see if I can find someone else to play with.

But he still remains as loyal and ready as ever when it comes to playing. Never heard him say no to me anytime for anything.. Really wonder how he does that! Got to learn quite a lot from him..Have hurt him many times before but it turns out that he doesn’t bother if I love him or not, he just does….on and on…asking nothing in return…

Realization Dawns..

I lay in the crowded night,
Staring at the festal stars,
Blue, Red and white twinkles
Upon my mind in tangles.

They humor me probably,
Coz' I feel no merry,
Disarrayed and dis-embarked,
I stare; for that's all I can.

The incinerating hope,
Had blinded me long,
I cant now see anything,
Even as its clear of smog.

I see drifting psyches around,
With varied facets of life hung,
I try to discover their thoughts,
Alas! I cant steer my mind out of my own.

I dwelt there in thought,
The fervid rocks chill my spine,
Why did I encompass the unattainable?
I search an answer for the prior nescient glee.

I breathe in through scruples,
Comprehending my state,
The guilt of the time pretermitted,
Is stinging every waking cell with mirth.

Realization dawns, I know for sure,
Those same million cells scream for aid,
Haven't I botched my life enough?
In dreams that I should never have dreamt.

Can I stop?, is the fresh misery,
Cos' the dreams were all worth this pain,
I see my hopes squashed and dreams turn away,
I wonder my sanity and tryst with fate.

I coerce to accept the verity,
But seems inconceivable,
Realization dawns from beyond the horizon,
I exhale as the jocund stars silence and recede.

May be the dawn teaches,
The blue, red and white bands shining,
New hope it might bring, New dreams it might preach,
Ill wait as one, for, pray out loud, realization dawns from somewhere within....


Swathi Krishna
9/2/2009

Delirious...

A lyric I never thought I'd write,
Am penning down because of thee,
A feeling that I had my back on,
Is enshrouding me with pure glee.

I beseeched you to come by,
From your very gallant shore,
And you consorted to my freewill,
Sweeping me off my shore.

You make me delirious,
With your smile so rhapsodic,
I am unrestrained when you touch,
A touch no shallow;
You trace to my soul, with indulgence so rapturous.

But I still cant interpret,
If you are pleased,
Would you ever let me know?
I am waiting, 'cos I sense your frown,
What would it take,
Oh man of great fibre,
To turn the frown upside down...

But a barricade in my mind,
Speaks out the truth,
I wouldn't deny,
The irony is that nor can I..

I am no ordinary girl,
I deliberate my dreams in every breath i take,
A wish to make it big in the man's world,
And determination flows till the perfect mate.

Should you come by and stay unsounded,
Should you stay to deter me otherwise,
I'd rather let you go on into the moor,
My rich dreams are far too cherished,
To let a charming horse of the day turn me poor..

Hold back, I wont let you beguile me anymore,
Or so you think yells my heart so sore,
I have to fulfill aspirations so many,
Time is brusk and cares for none,
You shan't tempt with your eyes in trance.

I shall let you go, 'cos you are still unverbalized,
Talk and may be I shall learn
That its you who is startling a fire,
In every dream of mine......



Swathi Krishna
5/1/2009

Vanity Spills...

On the terrace of my edifice, I sit in the nook,
Construing the still of the trees and birds in equipoise,
No sound humane, no noise unearthly;
I wonder what's in store 'cos this silence, deepens my sore.

I look up and at the far end I find,
The white cotton shield gliding like a dove,
Majestically drawing its layers to entwine,
Seeming like the power beyond is having a good knit.

Fluffy and cherubic, I can see it smile,
I imagine may be, but its worth every pound;
Thin white wool, as it is, sticks close by,
Thinking unity is might, but do I get a fright??

I come forth to find more dove,
But am I taken for a ride;
I see, my nest is turning dark like night;
And why do I hear, the perfidious screech of the owl?

Soaring like a hawk ,
Is the heavy curtain of solvent;
Aiming the pure cotton ball,
Playing merrily on strike..

Here, I see the wafers of wool-
riving beneath the rays,
I see no awe as they have no law,,
Heavy and ugly, each string treads along,
Chiming their bells in a villainous rhyme.

The little white mass is engulfed upon;
As they truely stand clueless of all,
It takes no time for the unending conceit,
To kill the purity and resurrect shrill vanity.

As the darkness opens its pouch,
The white disappears admist the vain,
Shreiks in glory, a glory over innocence;
Thunders out loud and sends a lightning bolt my way.

I cower in fright, my arms wrapped around,
I know what is coming down my way;
They dance and bound all over in mirth,
They masquerade and come down bay.

I feel the cold ,the thick driblets-
Sting my face, my hand, my brow,
Libertine drops of vanity spill down,
I drown in haze and seek a shore.....

Vanity spills and spares no realm,
Even the most beatified are ensnared;
Those exalted from the trammels of vanity,
Redeem me now on the path you have laid...


swathi krishna
31/07/2008

College Ramayana..

This was written when I was about to enter Engineering. It may sound kiddish or even more- ridiculous, but it wasn't so then.. Though I don't appreciate the style of writing, somehow its still close to my heart.. feel like treasuring it..
june 9, 2008

From the day i entered my +2 i was put into a constant battle of thoughts,
thoughts which would change my life. i was entering into a wagon of utmost
fears & strong decisions.there had to be no mistakes.
now that my exams are over, the stress of getting into a "good" college
is hovering over my head. i wonder, people who know me are more so tensed
than i am & create a horrid aura by letting me not take a decision on my own.
just as i'm about to take a good judgement there comes someone, who
wouldn't have come otherwise, to spoil all my thought flows & to enjoy seeing me
confused. all i feel like doing is that pull the person's hair as he spoilt my
decision making capabilities which rarely manifests itself in good colours.
then there are my respectable gaurdians who are as anxious as me and go about
about asking everyone as to which course is good in which college.....
that is the last thing that would suffice me. being a student who is talented &
getting a good score in boards , not as good as to praise myself & ward of all my
worries, the last thing i would want to get done is to be confused. but who
would understand?
"don't go to this college " says one,the other says "hey, thats the best
college" ........"don't take up this course"... while yet another-"hey that is the best course out there, pal".....
"thats just for guys yaar" goes one, where as the other says "you can do it.. its an evergreen branch for everyone!!"
well,, who would you beleive??????
rattling through these thoughts daily is a stressful job for sure. unsure
of the path (even if your sure,the brains around let you go unsure), one tends
to lose confidence over one self.
i was a student well prepared for my future... but then it was my gaurdians
mistake of consulting everyone & brought in all the stupid reasons for
letting me go astray. i am in a situation where i can't oppose them nor can i go ahead
with it.
please ....if you are ready for your future, then DON'T ask anybody's
advice for you will be in a trouble that you may find it hard to cope up with
and even come out of it.........
swathi
16/6/2005

The Emperor's New Clothes..

Again, this was written when i was in12th grade. I think I have tried to dramatize my feelings then, and I have horribly messed it up. But I'd just leave it like this-cos' "Whatever is written remains forever"
june 9th, 2008

That was a usual story ......once upon a time, there lived an emperor........
but the good it did to me is known only to me.......
i was a 4th grade student then, when this story of a foolish emperor who beleives the tale of 2 strangers
who comes to him to find a job and ends up in losing all his reputation by going naked in front of his
subjects was taken up by my teachers as a play that was to be enacted during the annual day.
i was chosen as the emperor , of course i was proud enough to be doing the major role in a play. i was excited
even as i had to endure the hard practices, the lasting tempers of all teachers who wanted perfection.
the play went excellently well, more successfully than anyone had imagined. everyone were happy including
the headmistress,Mother Domnique, an angel of our time in school , my parents, granny , all of them.
now after almost 10 years of time that has elapsed since the play was enacted my teachers(primary school)
remember me as the emperor. a few of number of meetings with those teachers showed that they all remembered
me as the emperor as yet, but i wasn't sure if they would remember me as that always, i thought it was just
a period of time when they would forget me, my name, my role, everything else about me,but today i was
proven wrong!!!
After 10 years of time they still acknowledge me as an emperor. they welcome me into their staff room as
"helloo! emperor.....how are you feeling?" i was dumbstruck as they all unanimously said "oh! emperor,
come in please, take your seat your majesty", i thought some of them would recognize me as an emperor but never even
in my dreams did i expect that ALL the teachers would still remember me in the same way. On my note of thanks that they
still thought i was worth of being remembered for my pretty role, they said " Of course how can we forget
you? that play was the best one in many years and none of the other plays till date have been as successful as
yours and every time we need to find a new play for the annual day, we first remember you ,the emperor, the
play and the time we had then. it is very hard to forget you" . well now that they had said it i must admit
that no one until date had said it . i was on the ninth cloud.probably somewhere even beyond it. that was a
wonderful moment.
not just the teachers, but also the previous headmistress ,Mother domnique, who also remembers the same
girl of 4th grade. Meeting her after 10 years in itself was a joyous moment , and above all listening
that she, the best headmistress I've known, still remembered me for the role i played , was beyond words.
My voice box didn't get the right impulse at the right time to produce even a faint sound, leave alone to express what i was
feeling, but i was sure i hadn't felt that happy any time in life. and today to double my happiness my teachers
were there.......they are the teachers who gave a strong base to my learning, and the way they have
moulded me and all my friends is shown in us as to what we are today...a fine platform was erected by them,
ready for us to mount......indeed they have proved themselves as the makers of our lives........
the warmth that they had given us away is miraculous. and i am still in their memories, as an emperor....
the feeling of being recognised by your best, favourite teachers after a long time is THE feeling to be experienced.
It is a chosen blessing bestowed upon you that could bring in a rapid yet eternal feeling of satisfaction
and happiness...

18/08/2005
swathi- the emperor or shall we say the empress?!;)