Thursday, January 30, 2014

January 2014 mindful writing, day 30



Curled up by the bay window, I listen to the shuffle of goat feet bringing dusk down the forest path.

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Monday, January 27, 2014

Sunday, January 26, 2014

January 2014 mindful writing, day 26



The wannabe PM. The ebb and flow of his voice.The shine of his promises. The crowd breaks into a loud applause every other minute.

day moon-
a giant balloon
in the sky

Saturday, January 25, 2014

January 2014 mindful writing, day 25





Scent of cut grass. Tiny orange rosebuds. And an early-bird koel that has got its song all wrong.The weather is changing here.

Friday, January 24, 2014

January 2014 mindful writing, day 24




When everybody has gone to bed, my neighbour's balcony rails climb up my bedroom walls.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

January 2014 mindful writing, day 23



I prepare his favorite dessert and serve it in a gleaming silver bowl. Then I put three basil leaves on top.











* In India,basil or tulsi leaves are put in dishes when food is being offered to God or a departed soul.

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

january mindful writing, day 22


yoga breath...
inhaling the warm sun,
the green
of the Eucalypt, the scent
of mulch on the forest floor

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

January 2014 mindful writing, day 21



At the park,children still queued up for a last tumble down the slide. The seniors, having finished their walks, are catching their breaths on the benches. Smell of over-ripe squashes from the vegetable-vendor's stall hangs in the air.The spring just around the corner...

Monday, January 20, 2014

Saturday, January 18, 2014

(January 2014 mindful writing, day 18 ) In Kat Creighton's memory



 The news that Kat Creighton , the haiku poet from Jersey, passed away two days ago, came as a shock this morning.

I had met Kat on the NaHaiWrimo site, when I joined it in 2011 and she had only been a Facebook friend, yet it feels like I had known her always.She was a wonderful poet and I had been a regular visitor to her blog, which features prominently here among my blogroll. Here is the last poem she posted on NaHaiWriMo on January 14th, the day before she died.


three quarter moon -
impossible to distinguish what is
from what isn't


Another one by her that I loved:


falling leaves
so many ways to count
our numbered days




Kat had been giving the prompts on NaHaiWriMo this month also, when one day she simply failed to turn up.

My  small stone today is in Kat's memory, based on the prompt given at NaHaiWriMo today .


are  there angels
...misty woods 









Rest in peace, Kat Creighton.I will always miss your voice.





Friday, January 17, 2014

January 2014 mindful writing challenge, day 17



Snuff-colored evening thick with smog and the long line of traffic moving sluggishly like the tail of some pre-historic animal. We sit slumped staring at the billboards.

Thursday, January 16, 2014

January 2014 mindful writing, day 16



The red-whiskered bulbul discovers its soulmate in the mirror.All day long, it keeps coming back to peck at it a thousand times.

morning after...
a plastic cover thrown
over the bike

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

January mindful writing, day 15




Gunfire in the deep woods grinds the night into a gazillion grains.We stir in our beds uncomfortably. Another commando exercise.

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

January mindful writing, day 14

On this photo prompt by Kash Poet in the Facebook IN haiku group, I wrote the following lines.And then did the haiga below as well.

flying kites...
 the colours in my
inner sky
photo:Google images












photo:Google images

Monday, January 13, 2014

January mindful writing, day 13




  Thin gray morning mist tattooed here and there with the red and pink and mauve of the hibiscuses not yet fully in bloom. I don't even have to take off my glasses to imagine an impressionist painting.

Sunday, January 12, 2014

January mindful writing, day 12




The camel that has paused outside our house under the almond tree to munch on its leaves and refuses to budge in spite of being goaded by its keeper, looks at me with desert-rimmed eyes.

Saturday, January 11, 2014

Friday, January 10, 2014

January mindful writing, day 10



It only takes a few drops of whites to turn the amber into pale gold. Ah, my morning tea!








 To find out more about about the January writing challenge, click here.http://www.writingourwayhome.com/day-1-january-mindful-writing-challenge-post-your-small-stone-here/

Thursday, January 9, 2014

January mindful writing, day 9




When the distant dog barks turn into a whimper and the lights in the high-rises begin to go off one by one; when the silence in the streets is broken only by the crackle of the walkie-talkies from the occasional patrolling police car; then the migrants and the pavement dwellers huddle around a fire in the street corner and talk about the village, the fields, the cattle that they left behind.


tar-black night...
who scattered those stars
by the roadside
                                                  




 To find out more about about the January writing challenge, click here.http://www.writingourwayhome.com/day-1-january-mindful-writing-challenge-post-your-small-stone-here/



Wednesday, January 8, 2014

January mindful writing, day 8



Shadows lengthening in the forest to my left, a sunlit window to my right.Yet I search for a poem in the cold white screen of a computer.









To find out more about about the January writing challenge, click here.http://www.writingourwayhome.com/day-1-january-mindful-writing-challenge-post-your-small-stone-here/

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

January mindful writing, day 7

A small stone is a short piece of writing
 (prose or poetry)that precisely captures
 a fully-engaged moment
Satya Robyn

To find out more about about the January writing challenge, click here.http://www.writingourwayhome.com/day-1-january-mindful-writing-challenge-post-your-small-stone-here/









A rejection is a rejection is a rejection. Yet I get into a battle of words with the editor when he rejects my work with the comment, "they aren’t that bad”! Ouch, that hurts! When I protest, he says, “not that bad” only means that they need some more revision; according to him, had he said, “not that good”, that would have meant they are really bad.This new line of thought floors me. I want to argue more... being at the receiving end of a rejection is never a good feeling... but I stop myself. What’s the point?


late afternoon
the lime green of the meadow
stains the skyline

Monday, January 6, 2014

January mindful writing, day 6



The tiny green birds chastise the squirrel loud and long, probably for stealing eggs from their nests.The squirrel stares back defiantly. I peep through a gap in the curtains.


afternoon class -
the foreign tongue
I always wanted to learn




To find out more about about the January writing challenge, click here.http://www.writingourwayhome.com/day-1-january-mindful-writing-challenge-post-your-small-stone-here/

Sunday, January 5, 2014

January mindful writing, day 5




A crescent moon low over the plastic chairs stacked on top of one another.A pineapple wedge still stuck on the rim of the empty glass.The walk back to the parked car is long and the path wobbles dangerously.








A small stone is a short piece of writing
 (prose or poetry)that precisely captures
 a fully-engaged moment
Satya Robyn


To find out more about about the January writing challenge, click here.http://www.writingourwayhome.com/day-1-january-mindful-writing-challenge-post-your-small-stone-here/

Saturday, January 4, 2014

January mindful writing, day 4



Opening the window a crack at dawn, the earth, fog-wrapped, still asleep. A chill breeze that finds its way in, scatters the sharp red scent of the apples on the corner stand. I slip back under the covers again.







A small stone is a short piece of writing
 (prose or poetry)that precisely captures
 a fully-engaged moment
Satya Robyn

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

January 2014 mindful writing , day 1




"A small stone is a short piece of writing (prose or poetry) that precisely captures a fully-engaged moment.
 
Satya Robyn






Every year I await January eagerly for this experience of mindful writing challenge to begin. And like every year, this year too, I am not sure if I'll be able to complete it.Yet here is my first unsure step, my first imperfect stone of the year.


New Year's dawn
yellow poui trees line
an empty street