Wednesday 12 December 2018

THE SICKLE-SHAPED

How familiar must it be
that you put the horizon to sleep
and welcome the silent skies,
like babies lulling,
and adults guarding time!

You are a prayer
O' sickle-shaped cursed beauty,
a smile on starry turfs
that comforts farmers,
ensures no fiery storms
over their just sown crops!

You are sincere poetry...
see there, O' Moon,
again I write this,
perhaps shall I write more,
for I love to read you:
you age with my conscience
and are born again
alongside my romance!

You define my longing for the Hills,
those uncivilized lands of intelligence-
I vouch for your sight amidst the snow
but you wouldn't just be there, would you?

Tuesday 4 December 2018

LUCKY ICE-CREAM, WARM BROWNIE

Seldom are there certain happenings which begin with uncertainty and end with bliss! There are, however, a few thumb rules to these seldom events of life! First, these are sudden plans. Second, they come with silent joys...I mean, joys with that high dose of maturity coupled with childlike jokes. Third, people won't believe if you narrate to them. But, I shall try to keep this note as true as possible lest people start doubting my narration!
After I had joined this institute in Pilani, I have, to my credit, made a number of friends who are good, both at heart and on plates. In fact, it is now something like a gourmet gang. At this moment, while I write this piece, I have a scheduled self-cooked dinner on Friday. So, this is evidence to prove that everything happening in this piece is real, perfect to a T.
I had never expected that the place has such beautiful eateries. Thanks to my gourmets, we reached at a place where the ambience was proper and it smelt good. After finishing a number of Indian dishes, we decided to go for a brownie blast with ice-cream. I had average expectations.
After ten minutes of the order, the plates arrived. The warmth was already filling the air, and the humidity arising out of the hot dripping chocolate was in classical romance with the air. The ice-cream toppings on them subdued the smoke, but, juggled between the burnt aroma of hot chocolate and cake crust now and then. The temperature outside was quivering at 18 degrees, and the plate added more to the conscience's impatience. It was soothing!
We had it. Oh! Believe me, it might not have been the best brownie ever, but it was worth the best moments, taking into account the place we live in, and the other variables that never could have supported such wonderful food! The chocolate drips kissed the coldness of the cream, and the result was one spoonful of bliss! I ate to my foodie conscience's content, and so did my companions of the 'night brigade'!
We just said, "Lucky we, we got the ice-cream atop warm brownies!"

Sunday 11 November 2018

THANK YOU, TASHI !

In this country, there is a saying which goes something like 'On each food grain is written the name of the man who shall consume it.' There may be variations to this statement from one region to another because this country changes dialect every few kilometers!
Anyway, after joining this institute in Pilani, Rajasthan for a teaching position, I was quite happy because the environment is peaceful like the place I hail from, and there are peacocks, parrots and squirrels on the campus streets. However, having belonged to the eastern corner of the country, I began missing a few foods. Two of them were thukpa (a preparation of noodles in steamed soup) and momos (yeah, the ones on which you recently read articles on health risks...but I say, momos are not foods...they are emotions!). Resisting not more than a month, I decided to calm down my conscience by having a plate of momos at the institute gate. Oh! You only know the importance of a food only when you don't have it! Deep down my heart and belly, I knew that these did not even match half of what I had eaten before, but the joys of getting my hands on one were bubbling!
Only one month later, someone informed that the Tibetan Market Association was here for selling their famous woolen garments. I was familiar with their clothes as I had been visitor to their temporary markets at Silchar and Guwahati. The most wonderful thing about them is that several groups of them travel across India during winters and for the rest of the year, they are on to other jobs. It feels great that they come together for a social cum business hangout for a period of the year and make journeys to warm the people of the country. And their woolens! Oh! They are warm enough to trade your wallets!
Now, here comes the bonus of their fairs. They put up food stalls at the site of the market where they cook for themselves and sell some of those to the visitors too. Once I entered the market area, my eyes rolled towards the food stalls and lo! there were momos. I was never so much delighted because I knew their momos were the best as they pour 'that' sense of original taste of the hills. We ordered one just to check the so-thought originality. After 20 minutes came the plate of steamed momos and the red chutney! I was right! The warmth was so familiar! The pieces were soft and almost melted in our mouths, and the stuffing spread across the tongues. And we were praising the food after every delightful piece!
Having enjoyed that plate of momos, we inquired if they made 'thukpa' too. They smiled and were surprised how we had known that food item of theirs. After exchanging notes of brotherhood, they invited us the next day! The man in charge of the cooking was named Tashi, and such a fine gentleman he is! We visited them twice after that, and as it was Diwali time, we thought of extending our destiny to the 'sweet tooth' level. They were happy to receive the 'kaju-katli' and we were more than contended.
Finally, we said, "Thank you, Tashi."
I am now a contended man and believe that once you miss a food from the bottom of your belly, the world shall conspire to get it to you! Isn't that a bit cinematic? Yes, it is, and so were the momos and thukpa!
No man is a stranger if you know how to befriend him in the truest of senses without hidden agenda! 

Wednesday 29 August 2018

LIKE AN INCENSE

Beyond the plate of fries
rest my heartbeats
switching between yellow dim
and romance in me
for the lady in maroon
smiling at me:
the soup warmed
our talks of affection
that bloomed like tulips
plucked from serene fields
from the remotest of greens.
I long for the sanity of madness
that grasps my poem's lengths
despite protests by men to pen
not my words warmest...
...and that fragrance of fries
brought shyness out of nowhere,
placed it like an incense
in the middle of our breaths!

Tuesday 2 January 2018

THE MUSIC OF THE SEA

[Dedicated to New Year, 2018 at Puri, Odisha]

Easy recliners and shy moon
on sand turfs warmed by noon
compose a memorable tune
that plays by a solitary dune!

Warm corns caressed with Indian spices
and tea with flavours of fruity biscuits
instill a feeling of holiday pleasant
filled with a sense of patient moments.

Camels adorned with silken sheets
complain not of the roaring seas:
long they for the oases far,
homes beyond the deserted stars!

Waters are calm, but rest they not,
might they carry in infinite lot;
men enjoy the moments on shore
despite they know the sorrowful more!

The sea ends not, the horizon indistinct,
the cool breeze subdues all thoughts, weak.
A sight of relief it is:
reasons are unknown
or attempts not made to think of it:
just moments like time in a chaotic soul!