Tag Archives: speed

Van Dudler

On hands their praise, of sounds that made
Tantrums thrown upon the keyboard, the maid
Rush to her master, little, a toddler
Twisting the house of Van Dudler on his little finger

Outside the windows, behind curtains
Made of silk; with an innocent pretence
Stood the maid’s son from her dead husband
A darling little creature, they called him Donovan

The island amidst the land

Among every batch of tall trees, there grows the malnourished shrub, its twigs yearning for the light that never reaches its deprived leaves. Like the island amidst the land, there exist solitary individuals who wish to be back among the normal course of life.

Many people in this world are lonely. And most of them do not know what to do about it. We might not even notice it, but there is that one person pushing through a day, trying to leave it behind but only to get trapped in another one soon.

Going gaga over gold

Perhaps when a miner stumbled upon a shiny yellow metal hundreds of years ago, he would have wondered how it would help shape the world like so many other elements had before. This otherwise useless element, called Aurum by its Latin name, became one of the most commonly seen and widely used. It became the basis of status in some places, it became beauty in others. It got moulded into plates in which were served food in rich palaces and it was festooned over the hands and necks of brides who were ready to tie the knots.

The life of gold starts the moment it reaches the hands of its mentor. Before, protected inside the womb of the earth, it remains unseen until someone finally comes around and exclaims at its unreactive existence. As the jewel-maker melts and creates wonders out of it, it gets importance. Value etched in its looks, gold transported ordinary man into images of wealth, and the wealthy into the era of showing off.

When the sun sets

A soliloquy falling into reflection:  My sun set yesterday. And with him went my light, my warmth, and my life. The pyre that licked his remains from the earth left me more time than I could handle. As my husband, my soul of three decades passed away leaving me like a lost child, solely in the hands of my ‘parents’, who were once upon a time parented by me.

I sit beside the mantle, my rocking chair causing a slight vibration, the needles following a monotonous rhythm that I find amusing at times, annoying at others. My children want me to feel comfortable here, and I am. Physically, I am alright, except for the slight arthritis that has found its way in with age. But in my heart, I feel a large vacuum slowly expanding, expanding its existence like the universe, like all those skies that talked about infinity. My emotions edge that of loneliness. I watch T.V most of the time, and I do get annoyed at my grand children when she starts commenting on my favourite soaps, or changes to her own favourites. But my daughter and her family is my family now. And I do not blame them for whatever lack of understanding there exists. The people in this world exist for their means and it would be crude to stand in their way and block the flow of time. Because I have very few left, and I wish to utilise it in mourning, praying for my way back to unite with my sun and find solace and light in heaven.

Wanting to become

“I want to be a driver”, said the 6-year old boy as he animatedly ran around being the truck driver. He was in a double role- he was both the driver and the truck. I watched amusedly as he explained to me why he loved the job so much, how he would become one of the world’s greatest drivers, delivering his goods efficiently and promptly. Like my dad, he said, yes, exactly like my dad.

That little sentence that came out of that little mouth set me thinking. All the listeners knew, years across, the little fingers would clutch a more powerful pen and his dreams would be about being a doctor or an engineer, an entrepreneur, a path he or his parents would have envisaged for him.

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