Desecrating the Deity.

        Violence!  Bloodshed ! Massacre ! Hatred and callousness being inflicted upon innocent people across the world.  And all these insane acts being done in the name of religion.                                                   What a fallacy of ideas to profess cruelty and god in the same breath!  Can this play of ill will please God who, by all believers over the world, is regarded as the ultimate source of love and kindness?.                          Is it not blasphemous to link His name with such devilish acts and blemish His holy image?                              Besides sinful sacrilege, these votaries of violence, also indulge in killing the very essence of human values and ethos of the age they live in. Sadist to the core, they love wrecking havoc on the civilised world every now and then.      The situation is grave indeed and seems to be going out of control at the hour.  Isn't there a way out?   Is our age-old civilisation doomed to be annihilated?  A dreadful nightmare to imagine!   Despite the grim situation prevailing around, I wish to hope (against hope ) that maybe, all is not yet lost.                      The optimist in me keeps dreaming that sooner or later a day will dawn with the light of reason and good sense that will dispel the darkness of delusion and bring them back on the path of righteousness. The world will again become a better place for everyone to live in peace, sans fear.
         In the meantime, let us hope so and pray together!

GIVING A DAUGHTER AWAY

       A queer experience it is, a feeling that defies description, an emotion beyond expression.
        Thoughts of varied colours blended together in a peculiar mode, overwhelming you with a mood never known before.
                                You don't know what to name it !
     Is it a sense of self-satisfaction at having performed a parental duty gracefully in accordance with the established customs?
          A  sense of relief that your beloved daughter is going to enter a new phase of life that holds the promises of a rosy future with the fulfilment of all her happy dreams?
        Or is it a late realization that you entrusted the future of your loving daughter to the mercy of a stranger?
            Regret, that you consented to give her away rather early, while it could be done a little later?
         Apprehensions, will or won't she be granted the same love and care she has been brought up with, and will she be ensured protection as was done right from birth up to her present age?
  Or is it the fear of impending loneliness back at home caused by the glaring
    absence of a darling child?
The chain of unsavoury thoughts keeps confusing the mind, making it difficult  to
know which of them is the hardest to cope with.
             But then, as it always happens, Prudence gets the better of emotions and rhyme and reason begin to prevail, asserting the truth that we are merely a link in the ages-old tradition and are bound to act as our predecessors have been doing since time immemorial.
          Hence, no matter how painful the parting, how deep the sense of loss, how dreadful the worries about her future, the fact remains that she is born a daughter, an asset that belongs to others and therefore must be parted with, a loving farewell
is all we can give her with gifts of blessings and good wishes in abundance for her happy going in the new household. Tears may be welling up in the eyes but must not roll down till she is believed to have entered there to a cordial welcome, marking the beginning of celebrations henceforth, extending to the whole of her lifetime!

No kind action ever stops with itself ,one kind action leads to another .Good example is followed .A single act of kindness throws out roots in all directions and the roots spring up  and make new trees . The greatest  good that kindness does to others is  that it makes them kind themselves .
                                                                                                                    Amelia Earheart

                                                                                            

                                      Ode To a Phoenix 

                        

                              Nestled  in the heart of a blossoming tree 

                                    She had just begun to weave

                                         dreams of a sunny tomorrow.

                             But Fate conspired with Death 

                                  and hatched the cruellest plot 

                                       to nip her joy in the bud.

                           A bolt from the  blue 

                                  fell on the tree of a sudden,

                                     hitting her nest unawares,

                                         bringing it down to the earth.

                           Too shocked  by the heavy blow  

                               to sense her own wounded self  

                                  she lay petrified, stunned,

in the midst of her broken dreams.  

                 

                      

          But  before the deadening loss 

           could kill her  lively spirits 

              she wrang her eyes dry,

                   and rose up from the wreckage

                       to fight  again and brave 

                          all odds that came her way.

        With slow but sure strife  

          she flew through mist and snow

           carving her route to resurrection.

   And  lo ! she made it  at last

       reaching the land of bright sunshine 

           she made her nest on the olive again.

                                                                           Yes, she is there  at last 

                                                                                      A hope reborn, a dream realized 

                                                                                                life revived from dust and ashes!

         Weighing her new grown wings 

              she is ready to map the skies 

                   even beyond the horizon 

                         for  what can be a limit  

                            to a spirit indomitable!

                                                                     And  as she spreads  her wings

                                                                             to take up new flights 

                                                                                leaving the dust of  fear behind

                                        I rub my eyes in wonder  

                                           and ask myself --

                                                                   Does Phoenix belong to legends alone?           

    

.

    

ODE TO A PHOENIX

                                           Ode  To A Phoenix
         

                                                Nestled  cosily on the branch,

                                                Of a blossoming tree,
                                                she had just begun to weave,
                                                Dreams of a  joyous tomorrow.
                         
                                               But Fate and death conspired,

                                               And hatched a cruel plot,
                                              To nip her hopes in the bud,

                                               Before she could wake up.

                                               There fell a bolt from the blue,
                                              Hitting her nest unawares,,
                                              Bringing it down to the earth,
                                              Shattered and burnt to the core.
.
                                               Too deeply hurt by the  blow,
                                               To  feel her  wounded self,
                                               She lay petrified, stunned,
                                            Among wrecks of her rosy dreams.

                                            But before  the deadening  woe,
                                           Could  kill her lively spirit,
                                           She  resolved to wipe her eyes, 
                                           And rise up to face what was due.
   
                                             With slow but sure strife,
                                             She flew through mist and snow,
                                             Carving her route to resurrection,

                                             Leaving behind the dead wreckage.

                                             And lo! She has made it at last!
                                             Reaching the land of bright sunshine,
                                             She is perched on the high olive branch,,
                                                Revived in spirit and zest again. 
                         
                                           Rising from the dust and ashes, 

                                            She  is ready to soar high up  and higher,

                                           While I  rub my eyes in wonder  -
                                          Does Phoenix belong to legends only?


Note---
Dedicated to a  young lady who joined Indian Army when her husband laid down his life guarding the national border in Siachen glacier. .She decided to follow his noble career and underwent the tough military training to resume the service of the nation just where he had left it ....
                       
                     This Braveheart is my Phoenix and this poem, my salute to her indomitable spirit!
            





         









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GRATITUDE

                                     On World Gratitude Day
Gratitude,
    The noblest of  emotions
         That springs forth from the depth of heart.
        At  times expressed  through palpable signs,
             But often, too shy for words or gestures,  
                  Dwells contained inside!
                   Both ways creates a state of bliss
                       Invisible as music but soothing as a song.
     Gratitude, the fondest of gifts one can give or receive.
            Like 'mercy' it is  a  two-fold blessing,
                ''It blesseth him that gives and him that takes''.1
           
1. Shakespeare    

A poem from Gitanjali

When the heart is hard and parched up 
   Come upon me with a shower of mercy ,
         When grace is lost from life 
               Come with a burst of song  .
                    When tumultuous work raises its din on all sides
                         Shutting me out from beyond ,
                              Come to me ,my lord of silence,
                                   With thy peace and rest  .
                When my beggarly heart sits crouched ,shut up in a corner ,break open the door ,my king ,and come with the ceremony of a king .

When desire blinds the mind with delusion and dust ,O thou holy one ,thou wakeful ,come with thy light and thy thunder .
Gitanjali ,39 

(This beautiful poem by Tagore has been very close to my heart ever since l found it .A constant companion ,it has  helped me maintain my faith in the all embracing benevolence of the supreme power that manifests itself in varied forms ,ranging from soft showers to  threatening thunderbolts , appearing  in accordance with   the need and situation .)