Shiv Bhajan at an Airport

Soothing are Shiva chants after
Working long hours
Sitting at the terminal
Wishing the delays to end

In another God's country
Shiva has a forbidden entry
Shrouded in secrecy
enveloped by technology

Soft are the waves
Of melody from the Ganges
I don't mind the delays
Blissfully aware of the peace

I look at the hustle
I see the old couple yawn in chorus
I sense the young man's urge to fly
I enjoy the child's cheer at the delay

My wings clipped for the day
The loud voice wakes the sleepy
Only to be told of further delay
The heads shake and eyelids heavy

Shiva's salutations in my ear
I think of Shiva's temper
The third eye giving out ire
My helpless state in blog I share .

Silent Willow

Music from the willow
fluently driven
from the barren middle
to the corners of the green.

The shuffle at the crease
the craning of the neck
the gratitude to heaven
the willow raised in salute.

As the chant forms a melody
sea of humanity rises in unison
hearts swell with pride
we thank the music.

In the longer whites
or the shorter blues
even in the casual shorts
the music plays soothing tunes.

The willow now falls silent
and we scratch history
to relive those memories
and search the horizon for new music.

Shell don

your slow plodding
measured steps
your unhurried pace
Your ability to withdraw
to your shell
your home
how convenient
you backpack your home
ceaseless pacing
in your confined abode
a lettuce fills you
and keeps you going
your trot a paradox
of your trait
your aping ventures
bring you back to earth
on your shell
as you reach and claw for the sky.

Epitaph

Your endless pursuits

Confined to the glass walls

The water so cold

Your red colour called gold.

Your piscean gulps

Mistaken for sounds

While we taught you tricks

Your fins wave in protest.

Your feed so rationed

Your sleep monitored

Lights kept you awake

And fresh water drowned you. 

All the same

Another journey

Another day

Another experience

Another scene

Is it another

I wonder

It is all the same

Deja vu 

Late check-in

The long train of dusty vehicles

Inching along the dustier trail

Leaving a new tail of dirt cloud

As every Columbus tries a new route.

The dust doesn't bother me

Neither the dirt

Nor the brown clouds

As I scan the horizon for the destination

The metal bird waits for me

It puffs and groans on the Tarmac

The bridge is connected

Still eating sand I scan the horizon

My captain has managed to get ahead

Leaving the curses behind

We surge ahead 

My hopes with the waiting bird

Th vehicle stops

I make a dash forward

Through seas of happiness and sorrow

I reach my carrier

Squeezed into my seat the  bird finally flies

I look down at the dust bowl

And see the never ending lines

Now illuminating the darkness below.

Lord not loud

The pachyderms looking bored

Swishing the palm leaves listlessly

Swatting flies or 

Trying to wake the mahout, I wonder

The drummers frustrations 

Find a crescendo on the Drums 

The trumpeters

Mock the drummers

The cymbal crashers 

Punctuate the drum beats

The dark taut bodies

Sweat streaming down in rivulets

The tempo picks up

The players make faces 

Taunting each other

Percussionists taunting the flutists

My ears can no longer hear

I look back at the wise  pachyderms

The Lord sits benign on their vast foreheads
Now I know why they  become rogues.

Directions

The first time I experienced the use of GPS services was while being  driven by a friend to a four hundred and fifty year old place in the university town outside Amsterdam. It was a cold, wet and dark evening and the warm voice from the device, though in Dutch, was reassuring. The voice took us out of the dimly lit maze of narrow cobble stone alleys into the wide and bright motorways.I was quite  fascinated by GPS device in the car.

A couple of years later when I changed my car, the salesman tried his best to sell me the latest AV system which had built-in GPS. I was not keen on two counts. First -  the city was in a wonderful state of evolution. Major roadworks were on, even the driveways in apartment blocks were not excluded from this frenzy of construction activities. The GPS device to be useful would have had to be a real-time system. Overnight diversions and road-blocks were order of the day (night too!). I am sure if I used a GPS, I would be making turns into  non-existent roads. Second - the car that I was buying had enough of new features that I had to learn and I was not keen to add this to the learning curve. So whenever, which was quite often,  I had to drive kilometers to take an exit or to make a U-turn in order to undo the wrong turn or direction I took, I would think of the missing GPS device in my car. 

This year I got a GPS device as a birthday gift from  my daughter. I am yet to fathom the reason why she chose this gift. Was this to ensure that I reach her to her destination in time in future or she finds me directionless! But now I have a companion in the car. Someone who keeps giving me directions which I choose to ignore most of the time. It has become a habit in the mornings to switch on the device and make it navigate to my office. It does give the feeling that I am being 'driven' to the office, but I score small victories by ignoring the instructions and making detours.

The internal GPS that we have are what we all are born with. The upgrades to this GPS software happens all through our life. Many a times we choose to  ignore the  feedback from our GPS. But  when we lose direction in life the poor device gets  the blame.