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Wednesday, 28 March 2012




Early in the morning
You come grinning
With a dewfresh lovely rose.
I flash back a grin,
And take you in,
You kiss me upon my nose!

You give on my back,
A playful smack,
Then wrap me in your arms;
Oh, your embrace,
Is the safest place,
That shelters me from harm.

Footloose and free,
We walk to the sea,
And wander on the shore,
Our lips combine,
Our hearts entwine,
Yet we want each other more!
The sun sets low,
Its mellow orange glow
just trembles on the sea,
The waves are shy
To say 'good bye'
to him and  you and me.

Alas, It's now time to go,
Reluctantly we move slow,
The stars are out above,
With one more kiss,
To remember our bliss,
Our day ends full of love.


Friday, 16 March 2012



   Once again it's Friday. I've waken up early.Actually I haven't slept properly the whole night. This evening I will go home for the weekend as usual. I am already in jitters. I am again and again checking my watch and irritatedly feel that the time is moving at the snail's speed.
     This whole week I've been nervous since the moment I saw the photos posted by Mr. Jim Brandano on his blog-"JP Brandano-Florida's Photographers".He is a wonderful photographer and I've become his fan.
So, on Monday during the lunch break I surfed through his new blogpost-'Father and Daughter'....these were the photos taken on the occasion of his niece Sheena's wedding.
    After seeing all those sweet pics of the beautiful bride in her bridal attire I came across the photo of an old man trying to choke back his tears. That was the bride's father,Mr. Vincent Brandano! the subsequent photos  had captured his fatherly love for his daughter in a subtle yet very touching way.
   Suddenly he reminded me of my dad and I was overwhelmed with mixed emotions. My dad's memories rushed to me and I felt very lonely without him. A lump arose in my throat and tears welled up in my eyes. I just couldn't sit there with my friends and rushed to my hostel-room and wept and wept, giving way to uncontrollable tears.....
 These days  a sort of  'cold war' is going on between me and my dad. He is vehemently opposed to my love for my beau Albert. In order to reason with him once again I had  written  a poem- 'O, My dear Shepherd!' subtly addressed to him and mom had brought it to his notice.
   As I could see from his reaction last Sunday he seemed to be a wee-bit moved. He even asked me in a lighter vein,"What should I call you now,'my dove' or 'my lamb'?"
 But thereafter things were back to normal as he studiously avoided the topic of Albert. And when he came to see me off  on the station on Monday morning, he said in his usual gruff tone,"My dove,just concentrate on your studies. After this 'Lent Semester' you still have one more semester and that will be very important."
    So, I came back to Cambridge in a very low mood and then came these photos of Sheena and her dad!...
   For a moment  I visualised myself as a bride and tried to imagine how my dad would look at such occasion?
  This musing opened a floodgate of memories of my dad: How he used to pamper me in my childhood. how he would carry me on his shoulders, clean my mud-smeared knees,reorganise my room when I left it in a mess, with things scattered all over, how he used to put me t sleep by telling stories, how worried he used to get even when I was participating in usual school matches, and how once he fainted on seeing my oozing blood when I had injured myself by dragging the window down on my thumb! And mind you, he is a surgeon who regularly performs tricky heart-surgeries without even a drop of sweat on his brow!....
 And then a strange thought came to my mind. I will never marry! I won't ever become a bride because I don't want to see  my dad in  tears. He will just break down while giving me away! And I too won't be able to part away from him! Suddenly my love for Albert and Albert himself seemed immaterial to me and I just wanted to rush back to my dad to be in his arms....
      And yet- this whole week I haven't phoned him even once! My fingers twitch, yet I put away my cellphone every now and then with a sigh.
   Even now I am thinking to myself, what should I do when I'll enter into my house and see my dad anxiously waiting for me?Should I rush to him, hug him tightly and shed all these tears that I've held back over this week?And then what will he do? Will he hold me close, move his fingers gently though my hair and kiss me lightly on my forehead and mumble, "My dove!" as he used to do some months ago?..
     Or, will I just stare at him for a moment and then walk past him to my room without saying much and he too will remain fidgeting with the 'remote' of TV and once again our house will be filled with our cold vibes?
     Oh, God!I am really in jitters!!

Monday, 12 March 2012



The little lamb feels forelorn,
Neglected by the shepherd,
Who keeps all her plias
Deliberately unheard.

He thought only but yesterday
Her to be 'the most dear',
How he used to cuddle her,
And call her his 'only cheer'!

Oh, dear shepherd, why do you think
That your lamb has gone astray?
No,no, she has just fallen inlove,
And now is under love's sway.

Do not think that she has gone
In search of a greener pasture,
Oh, she has only taken
The natural course of nature.

Don't you see that  your little lamb
Has now attained her youth,
And she has found her soulmate,
Please realise this simple truth.

You are still her star number one,
And she is still your 'dove',
For her there can be no substitute
For your fatherly love.


Tuesday, 6 March 2012



    I am restless.Don't know what to do. There's so much in me that wants to take the shape of some poetic words. But it just slips down like mercury and disperses in tiny globules which can't be collected.
  angry with myself I dress up and go out to college library.I wander listlessly,mumble a feeble 'hello' to the desk clerk and head for the reading room.Still restless, I pick up a volume of 'Encyclopaedia Brittanica'.You are safe with any volume of an encyclopedia. Turn any leaf and some interesting information is there to keep your mind occupied. I come to a page about the Egyptian Sphinx. I stare into her kohl-lined eyes and find Cleopatra hiding behind them! I soon get lost in her thoughts....
   an irritating screeching sound of a chair being pulled jolts me out of my trance. I look up with a frown. The next moment my eyes are wide with wonder. Before me is the smiling face of a middle-aged man, may be of my dad's age. He is smiling more with his sky-blue eyes.
 He asks gently, " May I please sit here?"
 Then I remember and exclaim,"Sir, you?"
 "Yes, me. Do you know me?"
 "In a way yes and no, sir."
"Then why did you exclaim like that?"
"Oh, we had met sometime ago at that 'poets' conclave'".
"I do remember! I had noticed you, your restlessness, your fidgeting and leaving midway abruptly before your turn."
 "Oh, my god! Do you really remember such trifles and an unknown girl like me?"
"No, usually I don't. But that day I could see the reflection of my own unease in you and  felt better  to have at least one like minded person there in that gathering. The only difference was that you could leave but I couldn't. Being the guest of honour I had to stay rooted till the end."
"Oh, sorry, sir, I now regret having unintentionally insulted you that day.A poet of your stature-"
"Shh! not so loud! I don't want to draw attention! This time I've come as a curious visitor to your university and while taking a round here I noticed you and couldn't resist saying 'hello' to you. Well, may I ask you something? If you don't have anything else to do or any objection, let us go out of the campus to some  nearby hotel for a cup of coffee or something? I just feel like talking to you."
    I stare back at him.There is something pure and innocent about him. So I agree and walk with him to a nearby hotel. We take our cups of coffee and reach for a corner table.
 Some minute just tick by in silence.I squirm in my seat and say,"Sir, you wanted to talk."
  He says as if remembering,"Oh, yes, yes. I was just arranging that in my mind. That day you left that 'poets' conclave' as if in annoyance. I wanted to say something in that context."
 "Sir, I didn't mean to insult those other poets or their poems."
" Did I say so?Oh, no! To be honest, I myself wasn't too pleased with all those poems. Actually I am against such conclaves. I honestly feel that poetry isn't for public recital. For that there are songs, lyrics, ballads-"
"Sir, don't they also come under the umbrella of poetry? Just different modes of expression!"
"Agreed, but I'll put it this way. Suppose you meet a very dear person after a long time. Will you break into a song and dance to express joy publicly?"
 I understand what he means.
He continues,"No,you will become speechless!You will just sing in your heart and that person will listen to your inner song by his heart. That is what is called a poem. Any experience which leaves you speechless gets expressed in some art form like poetry and while putting it in words,'the spontaneous overflow of emotions' has to well channelled, subtler the better.
 " Now, take the example of the sea. It has those ever restless waves on its surface. But the more we go deeper the more its water gets calm and then almost still as those rocks at its bottom. We can swim or float upon the waves but to see the real treasures we have to dive deep into the sea, putting aside the fear of drowning.
"The same applies to the poetry. There are those surfacial poems which are to be recited or hummed in public, only to be forgotten after a short spell of applause and then there are those poems which compel the reader to dive deep into them to reach to the jewel of their profound meaning. Such poems say much without any bombast and that too from the blanks between their lines."
  I stare back at him in wonder because I find the reflection of my own thoughts in his words. Well, I couldn't have put my thoughts in such a nice manner.
 I mumble as if speaking to myself,"I too think so. How a poem should be?Well, just me and that poem, like two friends gossipping together, and when it ends it should begin again in my mind."
He laughs lightly and asks, "what do you read generally?"
I say, "Oh, I read a lot! But I prefer to go back to the classics again and again.Every time I find a different meaning of some lines!"
"See, you prove my point! You have to dive deeper and deeper to find such jewels! And these classics are so long lasting because they have been written lovingly for those who love literature. Those writers knew their responsibility as well as their limitations. They valued each and every word of theirs. you know, Shakespeare stopped writing at the pinnacle of his career. He knew that his poetic talent was really a gift which was not meant for squandering away. Just like these 'Irises' printed on your skirt. These flowers are so precious! They remind me of a painting of these flowers by Van Gogh. Have you seen that painting?"
"Then please see it. Its print is available on your Internet."
"What is so special about that painting and the irises?"
"Well, see it attentively and draw your own conclusion. that painting is a wonderful poem with a profound meaning."
............After he leaves, a realisation dawns upon me that I had been in the company of a famous poet! I tentatively look at the 'irises' printed  upon my skirt........

                                                       (IRISES-by VAN GOGH)
                                                                                     -AUTUMN ELIZA

Friday, 2 March 2012



Oh, the very thought of you
Brings fantasies in my head,
As if I feel your ardent kiss
And my cheek turns instantly red!

Sometimes I just hate your thoughts,
'Cause they keep my heart burning,
They make me dreamy and restless,
And fill my heart with yearning.

Though you aren't given much to words,
Your eyes speak volumes to me,
Their silent signals are enough
To put me in sheer ecstasy.

I cherish your love and adore you
With my whole being,
For you I write these love-poems,
For you I inwardly sing.

Though we aren't sure of our tomorrow,
Our love will certainly win,
You know even after the darkest night
The sky is lit up with dawn's rosy grin!

                                                     AUTUMN ELIZA

Thursday, 1 March 2012



O my love, only this much I'd like to say,
In your embrace forever I'd like to stay.
I pray and with me you pray too,
"Let love bind us together, me and you."

Take me now tenderly to your chest,
This is my only shelter, my love's nest;
Your gentle caress and your love-beating heart,
Comfort and contentment , to me do impart.

A glimpse of you, or just the sound of your voice,
Or even a simple 'Hi', makes me rejoice,
And by a simple hug you make my day,
You only hold me in this special way.

When I am with you, it reduces all my stress,
I am then happiest, and worry much less;
Your warm embrace dispels all my fears,
A smile quickly replaces my anxious tears.

Let's enjoy this moment, right here and now,
Don't let any other thoughts furrow your brow;
You know I don't need gifts- expensive or new,
All I need is your love, you and only you!