I wander in the jungles
I wander in cities
I wander in the mountains
I wander by the seas
When sun is nigh
Drenched in light
Or the moon high
In the silver-night
I wander in my thoughts
Places seen, unseen
The places you take me…
A Raindrop On My Windowsill, And That Bird Singing Outside…
Those were particularly dull days of the week,
Friday didn’t quite light me up
That lingering gray-ness weighing down
Into my days, from the skies above.
But Sat morning, I woke up
To the first Spring rains.
The grass was green, the plants
drippin’ with all it can contain
The earth emanated the love-scent
Of yearning, now spent
That Nature’s way of doting
Never failed to surprise me in
ways most endearing…
A raindrop on my windowsill
And that bird singing outside!
A surprise that I knew was in the offing, but what a pleasant one it was: A raindrop on my windowsill, and a bird singing outside!
The heart flutters with excitement
As the seasons change guard
Ever since it did in a lil’ girls backyard
It rained and rained. Then it rained some more
And awoke the buds after a peaceful slumber
Flirting, in the half- asleep, half -awake stupor
With a raindrop, that stayed as long as it could
And then bid adieu to the sombre bud
The dark dense clouds still so heavy with love
A raindrop too many’d soon descend from above…
In the (Asian) Indian culture, green bangles are adorned by the bride at the sacred marriage ceremony- a blessing symbolizing prosperity and fertility. And she continues to wear green her entire married life. The gentle striking of glass produces a sound that is delightful, soft and feminine.
My maiden home would be filled with the cheerful sound from my mother’s or grandmother’s bangles. It seems to always be there in the background, the predictability gave us kids a strange sense of security, and you could tell those toiling hands were working somewhere in or around the house.
This jingle-jangle of the green bangles were sounds of love and care and motherly warmth.
OF SANDALWOOD ‘n freshmehendi hands
Mixed scents, like feelings; lonesome she stands
Dressed in silk, her gold jewelry dangles
Amidst the jingle-jangle o’ the green-bangles
SHE MAKES the house into a home
Cooking n’ cleaning n’ loving she roams
Making peace after any wrangles
Along the jingle-jangle o’ her green-bangles
HOLDING the little chin, combing hair
On fevered forehead, her hands of care
In a soft mulmul* embrace, their tears she lulls
All in the jingle-jangle o’ her green-bangles!
*Mulmul (pronounced muh-l muh-l as in mulberry) is a fine, soft cotton muslin from India. There are beautiful mulmulsarees for women in India.
Life according to one of life’s truly gifted naturally born wafflers… an open diary of a Saffer in a different land... life in the greater Dublin & Leinster area. (Since 2011) My quests fuel my dreams… my dreams fuel my quests!!