I am a housewife from India, mother of two boys, aged 12 and 11.
I have a master’s degree in English literature.
Till my boys were born I worked in various sectors of BPOs as motor claims and health insurance handler and was also content writer for simulation management entrance examination papers in the field of deductive logic and reasoning in English.
I have also worked for a short term in the hospitality industry as a receptionist at a five-star hotel, while awaiting results of my English honours examination.
I love life, like tumbling headfirst into it, and then doing a double take to step back and observe it.
I have written over a thousand poems on genres including, Love, Spirituality, Family, Religion, Current affairs, Human Rights, short stories, humorous pieces, essays as well as funny poems and tales for my children.
I love collecting rocks on my day trips to hills, photographing nature and natural moods. Indulge in taking selfies and decorating them with punk art.
Teaching my children how to tell jokes with a dead pan face for maximum impact.
The Tamarind Tree
My mouth waters Thinking of the sweet scent. Tall, Lissom lacy filigreed cape. Emerald, olive and beige, tumescent Tamarinds suspended in mid air Swollen mouth-watering morsels. Draping the ground as each loses Its battle with the breeze, falling to weave A beige and caramel carpet. Thankful for the brief respite, under its Shade, I rest on a mildewed bench Basking in breezy saturnine cornucopia. The school gardener hides his smile as I gather Fallen tamarinds, in my hand bag brown, plump and curvy, dry thick papyrus shells withering to powder, crunching, bursting to Pop out hidden seeds. Ah what sweet misdeeds of bliss upon My tongue are these! I suck greedily, a six year old again. Sweet and sour tangy ecstasy Erupting on my tongue. I am waiting for my toddler To finish his kindergarten classes. As he leaps into my arms I pop one Into his mouth as a treat. Better than toffees and stick jaw. Mother and son gorge on orgiastic sweetness On the walk home, marvelling at Nature's succulent trove. The small boy has grown up. The tamarind tree offers shade to New mothers, new babies Shedding her own selflessly.
Quiet languor melted muscles and bones To jelly honey drizzled sunshine on moist Dewy grass. I was lying in peaceful stupor under the Tamarind tree, mouth a gawk, book fallen Out of my hands, a Rip Van Winkle Who knows how long I’d slept? The screaming train sped across the Countryside, the church bell sounded Solemn gong, I arose to walk towards The Inn. But It seemed to have faded in a dream To a fairy bower of honeysuckle vines A balustrade of oaken beams and cobblestones I seemed to have been transported in sleep Or dream to an antiquated century, the Metro station rendered invisible in thin air The timeless hawk alone circled an avian lair, I gaped with fear at where The Taj Crown Inns Should have been. Upon the balcony, minstrel Played a fiddle as winged beings of light Danced to its merry tune. The sun high in the sky at hot hard noon I was at an utter loss, fainting in a swoon. When I came to the music had faded As had evening light I was in my room, where the shadows Of another world cast predatory Prophetic fingers of gloom Nothing is, quite what it seems. Dreams meet reality in nature. Nature accommodates unnatural things.
A Do Over
I wouldn't change a thing for you Only for myself. I wouldn't ask to be pretty Less socially awkward. I longed to be a diva in my teens, now I no longer Need to play the lead. I don't want anything at all. Just to be fearless. Seventeen once more, In love for the first time, Wearing untarnished ideals Like a shining school pin. A little less people pleasing idolising groupie? But no, my passions made me. I wannabe. Just a sweet wannabe again. Naïve seventeen at heart my friend.