My first expert- my mum!

I have always wondered how my mom would have the solution for anything under the sun -whether stated explicitly or ever-so-slightly-hinted-at for you to decipher things on your own. I have wondered how her touch, thought, word and action would spur me on. And even that how I had to and then later how every woman could turn into something like that and how could that be. Some of that made sense, when I recently became a mom.
Afterall, she was my first expert - the first person I learnt to rely on, with whom I needn't put on.

My shoulder to lean on,
still hoping I stand tall.
And rise high out of every fall,
she's ever so keen on.
My first mentor
my existence's centre
my panacea
helps me shirk inertia
my go-to escort
my first expert!
My mom -respect!

Life-changing start!

Disbelieving looks and a volley of questions by my friends followed my declaration about my future plans on that Chandigarh trip."You? Really?" "You are going out of country?" "How long? You alone?" "You think you can manage?" "Your dad allowed? How come?" I didn't know if or how I could manage all alone in distant different land but all I knew at that point in time was that it was time to #StartANewLife. Much-needed. Much waited-for.

Musings revisited 1

"Every twenty-something does attempt to write poetry sometime or the other, especially so, if reading/studying literature", proclaimed one of my favourite Professors during one of the Modern Poetry lectures. That set me thinking. Despite three years of rigorous under-graduate literature studies and about to touch the twenty-year landmark, I hadn't tried penning any, or even thought about it. Had tried my hand at short story writing or articles, maybe a couplet if at all, but a nice little poem, none! Now I couldn't rest till I had tried writing one. So one fine day, I set about penning it all after gathering my random thoughts, emotions, reading fair share of  poems to be inspired and a dictionary, of course, for rhyming help! Yes, a set of rhyming lines, it was to be as my maiden poem and what better to write on other than the subject that has perennially bothered spiritualists, anthropologists, philosophers and scientists alike "Life and Death" - yes, this theme intrigued me even at that age, and still does! I still remember when one of my lecturers read it, he said it had the touches of ghazal -writing, which I little understood then. Also, that for my subsequent compositions, I was told to avoid 'rhyme' altogether, and 'I', if possible, (a deeper lesson, indeed, wouldn't avoiding just that uncomplicate so much in life!). I stumbled upon this first poem of mine today, and here I am re-producing it here.

Life versus Death

After trying life I long for death

For now this burden I want to shed;

I am tired bearing it so long

I want to sing the death's song.

A complete want of a loving touch, 

Twenty years have shown me so much!

Such disappointment, sorrow, such unrest;

I want to bring myself to rest.

Death, take me in your peaceful lap

O, free me from this life's trap.

In fury, you so many slay,

Yet, to kill oneself is no child's play, 

Facing life', they say, 'is a deed so brave.

It's easy to be death's slave,

To do nothing and lie in a grave'.

Sorrow, sorrow and more sorrow...

'Hold on', they say, there'll be a new morrow.

Its the past and present which make you say so;

The future holds many good things to show.

So here I am trying to come to terms with life,

Waiting for my time to be ripe,

And wondering at the strange Triumph of Life!

Images : Google Images