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B’day Poems

This poem is dedicated to a friend. It is not often we meet people who bring us closer to ourselves and make us realize that we lost innocence while we were busy growing up.

The realization made me yearn for past, for the times when we were keen on becoming, instead of rigidly being; times when the only wars were that of palate; times when every event was the shade of multicolors; times when we were ignorant about  the marathons of time; times when mathematics of reason could be won over by rhetoric of poesy; times when we chased dreams and dreams chased us; times when broken hearts could be mended with an innocent smile; times when we sincerely believed that heroes outlast witches and dragons; and all stories have a happy ending, if at all, stories end.

I live that life again in this poem with a hope that I live that life again, always. Thanks.

I wish I were a little girl again
waiting
to grow up
wear make up
drape Draupadi’s sari,
and become,
Become

I wish I were a little girl again
troubled
over ice cream
chocolate bars
lacy pink frocks
and stains
on them

I wish I were a little girl again
excited
about occasions
birthdays, meetings, departures
juggling
smiles and tears
like circus clowns
of our village

I wish I were a little girl again
running
away from teachers
evening vespers
the boy next bench
whose book
I lost

I wish I were a little girl again
Counting
birthday sweets
calendars
friends with whom
I broke up over
sharpened pencils

I wish I were a little girl again
dozing
off dreamlessly
over the morning bench
In the classroom
where
thoughts themselves
were sleeping pills

I wish I were a little girl again
hurt
Only With bruised knees
Cane marks
A casual hit
regular
Beating

I wish I were a little girl again
Writing
poems about
fairies, dwarfs, Prince Charming
And the Witch
slayed
at the end.

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This life which you live and have lived, must be lived again by you, and innumerable times more. And there will be nothing new in it, but every pain and every joy and every thought and every sigh— everything unspeakably small and great in your life—must come again to you, and in the same sequence and series – Friedrich Nietzsche, The Eternal Recurrence. The Gay Science (1882), p. 341

A change in something seemingly innocuous, such as a flap of a butterfly’s wings, may have unexpected larger consequences in the future, such as the path a hurricane will travel. If you change even the smallest of life’s details, you completely change its outcome. –The Butterfly Effect. Edward Lorenz.

Violet Indigo Blue Green Yellow Orange Red No
Rain Rain Rain Rain Rain Rain Rain Sun
bow bow bow bow bow bow bow No
R A I N B O W

Violet Indigo Blue Green Yellow Orange Red No
Rain Rain Rain Rain Rain Rain Rain Sun
bow bow bow bow bow bow bow No
R A I N B O W

Violet Indigo Blue Green Yellow Orange Red No
Rain Rain Rain Rain Rain Rain Rain Sun
bow bow bow bow bow bow bow No
R A I N B O W
Violet Indigo Blue Green Yellow Orange Red No
Rain Rain Rain Rain Rain Rain Rain Sun
bow bow bow bow bow bow bow No
R A I N B O W

And the fog

s l o w l y

settles

upon my mind’s window

panes.

In my mind
the day yesterday
holding in my mind
the day today
in my mind

In my mind
moments that know
no yesterday
today
Forever they are
in my mind

In my mind
thoughts
held together
by sparkling eyes
in my mind

In my mind
shrieking voices
calling me
in my mind

In my mind
my mind
holding me
in my mind.

Copyright, Tina Rathore

scarecrowsA Scarecrow in the field
of Barley Rice wheat

With urn red on its head

A scarecrow in the field
of crows pheasants trees

Like a practitioner
In the field
of prescriptions cautions threats

Neither eats nor let eat

A scarecrow in the field
of men axe sweat

ploughing the field
of scarecrows.

Copyright, Tina Rathore

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