What my pen wrote

  Better than Gold- a poem  Age 6 to 10 I pecked at the delicious berries, yum yum, My tummy was full, I wasn’t really hungry I pecked away just for fun. A little bit though, I wasn’t greedy, Why should I when I wasn’t among the needy?   I get what I want before I want, I have a hundred servants around me, My wish is their command.   If you are thinking who is this lucky guy, Hold your breath, let me introduce myself, I am the royal parrot of Rajah Suray. Don’t you dare call me a pet, I am much more, I am the most loved bird across the seven shores.   My golden cage is as big as the rajah’s own, Don’t tell him, but i think it is much prettier too Soft couches, yummy food, amazing games abound.   It may not come to you as a surprise, I dislike all other birds in the skies Like the crow   cawing on the old tree outside, Having rats for lunch, and what else beside.   Why does he seem so carefree and ...

 The angst of Devaki This was performed as a dance by Anagha Prasad in Maanini , a story performance. Yashoda the fortunate mother of Krishna. She listened to his gurgles and bathed him, probably pulling his little fingers as she massaged him. She had the power to soothe him, she fed him  a mashed goey mix, which he probably drooled on her,   wiping his lips and face with her finger or the edge of her saree. She must have ran behind him in mock anger as the little one ran looking back laughing, his anklets resounding in Brindavan. And oh when the naughty krishna stole butter from the  pot, and lied to her, she punished him, as a mother should only to hug him harder later.She was one of the few women fortunate to rock the creator to sleep..  This  can be done  through the song itself The most blessed among mothers, the title --that could easily have gone to someone else Devaki. Devaki named her first son Krittimat, her second Sushena, third Udayin, fou...

  Unuttered verses- A poem Friendly faces, cheery grins, words, and noises, Trivially significant, a haze of voices.   Events that transpired, plans in the pipeline, Unpredictably predictable, a cloud benign.   Emphatic opinions, clear judgement, Harmless prosecutions, just a refreshment.   I find myself, right in the middle, My thoughts a layer, forming the bubble.   Don't be shy, exit your shell, I am encouraged, they mean well.   Raise your voice, speak your mind, Be heard, I am told or be left behind.   Eventually smiles fade, the words still, Silent voids are hard to fill.   Is she just quiet, without a will to speak? Or quite foolish with thoughts too weak?   Is she arrogant, turning away her cheek? Or just condescending, always a critique?   Some would say, she thinks she is unique! While others opine, she is a just a freak.   What about me? Which label do I s...