Is it...?

Coloured fingertips; the ethereal powder

Escapes my grasp with a brush of elusive lepidoptera wings

Did I just touch magic? 

Or did I feel love?

Bated breath; the brilliant orb, now ochre, now coral

Bids daily farewell; wanes sanguine at the eternal crease like your half closed eyes

Did a miracle just unfold?

Or canvas of love?

Stolen smiles; unspoken words, lines crisscross against blue skies

Taut longing emerges over the crackling static

When nothing makes sense and sense means nothing

Is this love?

Clipped fingernails; orange juice dregs, everyday fragments

The dimples in the bed slowly filling

Warms me even when you’re gone 

Is that ephemeral or a glimpse of the divine?

Isn’t this love. 

Anuradha Venkatnarayan 

Touched

I turn the page, impatient

Petulant eyes scouring the black on sepia

cursing the seconds lost, 

the eyes trying to focus on the new words

aching to make sense

Like a lover seeking consent

May I kiss you once more?

Words leap out at me

demanding attention,

coaxing me to line my mind’s inner shelves

a perfume laying claim to the vacant air

bribing my thoughts to concur

seducing a response from me 

leaving me gasping for the right feeling.

A deep ink envelops; unnoticed

Words lay claim to my being

I comply outright; deep-dyed

sinking deep into the well of meaning

Unwilling to flail, float, feel

The ink swallows me;

I feel touched.

It’s my right?

Raise that wall

Stop the ball

Wear your gas mask 

Am I right? May I ask?

He’s breathing my oxygen

She’s upsetting my religion

What’s right, what’s wrong!

Whose side are you on the double sided prong?

Shall we vainly try to own nature

Teach our kids to bicker 

Scraped knees. Dust clouds. Will they vanish?

My wish against your wish. 

Ctrl Alt Del. Halt play. 

-Anuradha Venkatnarayan 

Maa

 

In your eyes Maa, 

Patience, I saw

carefully lining the arc of my eyes with kohl 

Pride; when I broke the bully's jaw

for brushing my bosom

Doubts and questions; when they gnaw

your fathomless eyes mirror my truth.

 

In your arms Maa, 

Power, I concede

wielding scimitar and trident, I fight

Prudence you taught me; when hurdles impede

I stand unafraid, anchored with faith

even when bruised and kneeled

I looked to you; holding my head high. 

 

In your face Maa, 

Beauty, I adore

the curls framing your divine face

Brevity of the miracle of life, I ponder

life breath; heaving and ebbing

with every second you offer

I am aware; I am you

Electro-Chemical Reactions Inside the Head!

Dear Hruday and Nayna, 

‘Electro-chemical reactions’ are what I want to talk to you about!! Now don’t get all worried that I’m going to take a science lesson. 🤓

Electro-chemical reactions are nothing but your thoughts! Your brain creates thoughts, day in and day out, even when you are sleeping! For example, when you see a bird, your brain with its 100 billion neurons (nerve cells) and trillions of connections is probably already thinking about flying or planes! Or perhaps even about painting it or the movie ‘Rio’!! While I am writing this my neurons are already forming the next sentence, rummaging through the various other things I have thought of writing about.  

To put it simply, the workings of our brain is a complex thing that no one has truly understood. Not even the smartest of scientists or the wisest of wise men. But we know how to use it! And that makes us real powerful. 

While you watch TV, YouTube videos or playing video games, you are using your brain extremely sparingly - probably only 1/1000th of what your brain is capable of doing. The visual brilliance holds your interest; but that’s it. The video games may tickle a minuscule part of your brain to work and plan the next move; giving you the pleasure of being a magnificent creator or controller of things for those few minutes. But when the game ends, that’s what it is. The End. Someone else has imagined it and made the attention grabbing video game for you. You are just a player. Somebody has done all the thinking and filmed the video in such a way that you might like it. You just watched it and used one tiny, tiny part of your brain. 

Tell me something, how do you feel when you finish making a Lego from scratch without looking at the instructions? Or after you make a birthday card for a friend with just some coloured paper and colouring pencils? When the teacher asks you to write in your own words about the Sri lankan holiday that you just came back from; you write an interesting article, knowing that it is going to make her smile. Don’t you feel a special happiness?

I hope you do. Because that’s the happiness of creating something new. And that uses a whole lot of your brain’s capacity. That’s what a person’s brain is meant to be doing; really working it! Using all its neurons and it’s complex connections to create things. To learn. To add more connections. It’s a bit like rummaging through a gigantic laundry basket to find that missing pair of socks... and finding it!

Next time you see a bird I hope you will think of flying, planes, painting, the movie ‘Rio’, this article that I wrote specially for you two, making a video game about birds perhaps, maybe making a birthday card in the shape of a bird, a Lego eagle soaring in the skies as vast as your brain, and many many other things. That is what I wish for you my children. Exploring the world of possibilities within your head. 

Ditch the easy way out. Let’s make sure that our brain works real hard for us!

Love,

Amma

Silken shroud

Billowing black cloud
gossamer silken shroud
muffling the beating heart
drumming its own rhythm
multicoloured shiny smooth lining
interwoven dream skeins
folded chits of intent
hidden in inner pockets
keys to the doors opening out
the winding avenues; narrowing
the waning scene; blurring away
spools of thread
stretching to unravel;
slipping through fingers
catch the tail wind
the ribbon splitting the sky
an uninhibited dance
a diamond;
soaring into the unknown blue;
hits the red smear
the glass ceiling
billowing black cloud.

-Anuradha Venkatnarayan

Looking Away

The glint on the odd symmetry of corrugated sheets

The jagged corners of the shanty town vying in the foreground 

Catches my eye

I adjust my gaze; pointedly on the

blue of the horizon

The uneven, grimy nails on the hands willing me to look down

Hardened by seasons of waiting for the clink of the coin 

Grabs at my throat

I veer away; pray for the light to turn green

The clefts in the open mouthed stare oblivious of my glance

Years of toil running down their face in wrinkles 

Staggers my breath

I inhale deep; tug at the grey in my hair

The craggy peaks on the paper rang a death knell

Seconds slipping through; parts of me dying within

Flailing in vain at my life breath

I meet my eye in the mirror; where do I look away now. 

-Anuradha Venkatnarayan