Showing posts with label Creative Writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Creative Writing. Show all posts

Friday, 26 April 2019

Springing Back to Life


When life looks lull
And you feel so damn dull
Good Heavens! Don’t break loose
After all, life isn’t all hell
Touch your heart to tell
"Touchwood...All izzz well"
Now, fasten your seat belts
Tug rightaway your family
For a drive away
To a known island far faraway

Arrest not the rest of your family
Treat them fair
Let them tee off to a fairway
In the mean time
Steal some “Me” time
Just go Google
Armed with a Cup ‘O Noodle
For thy pencil, your love
While it dances to your doodle,
Sing any swara
Who cares (or listens!) to your apaswara

Now see how life is….
All set with joy and laughter
Sacked in a bundle
You and family are ready to pack
With all smiles, multi miles you drive back
On looking back,
Says the refreshed, energised you
“Oh Home Sweet Home…Nothing Like You”







Saturday, 30 July 2016

My Poem for Pankaj Vernekar

Here is a very short poem I penned for my dear friend Pankaj Vernekar (one of the starters in my series of poems for a few of my friends) 

On this Special Day, while your kith and kin are there with you,
To make your day, bright like sunshine.
I wish, they forget yours, those few favourites,
Say, cigar and wineJ
To make this day, especially fine!!

On sharing this with Rishab, my tiny sweetie, which I always do, albeit aware of the trouble in store! Pat came his reply,
 “Amma, instead, on this special day of Uncle's, you should wish him more of cigar and wine!” Exchange of glances….Popeyed Stare vs Short n Sweet Smile, ear to ear!J Tempts me to rewrite….

It’s Cheers!! Pankaj, with Glühwein
May your life get better with age,
Like fine wine!









Discovering True Love

Poem dedicated to my dear friend Nina Menon

Once upon a time….five long years that we traversed together
Only to find a few vanish away,
From many amongst our Archies Array,
Almost out of the blue,
Creating in our minds,
Real cry and hue!  (For poetry’s sake, this funny language I forsake!)
One among some, wasn’t that you?

Sailing across Seven Seas, making your testament “Microsoft”ly
Good bye guys, see me gals!
Here I land on greener pastures,
Towing my tennis and oh yeah…
“My hubby, my love”!

Armed with a racquet,
The All Powerful Me,
Played enough games to create,
In my lone opponent’s mind (lone opponent: Read “husband”)
A roaring racket!!
Poor hubby, was he left with any choice,
But to fall in love?! (Pun intended)
Lo! Wish you Archies watch us playing
Tennis, My True Love...!”

Sailing back to celebrate “Our Silver”, heard you announce macroloudly
Hey bullier guys n pallier gals
Missed you lots, all of these years
Love to see you again n again,
But then….sorry dear
No more than just once a year!

Flying off home you watched….
With your dearie daughter
‘Hubby Richer’ vs ‘Tennis Lovelier’
Yes we Archies love to watch them
Grand Slamming over
“Nina, Their True Love!!” 

Part of Archies gang in front of Architecture Dept. Jnanabharathi Campus - 3+ decades old pic! published for posterity :)

A Chitra to S. Chitra

Sharing a poem I penned for my dear friend Chitra Sundarajan

Marching ahead hand in hand
Bewitching beauties blooming
Guards of Honour flanking        

 Daintily decked from top to toe
Kajal eyed, Bow tied
Tresses dangling, Pendants hanging
Silken fabric, Shining shoes

Singing Bon Bon, Binging bonbon
Looking tip top, Dancing hip hop
To the lilting music Pop…bop

Criss cross, tic tac toe,
Guards of Honour chatting
Tip top we, from top to toe
With grace n poise, we all sashaying
Yet neck to neck, ahead we are racing,
Ear to ear, smiles curving….

Oh, come on, hurry up!
Ding Dong, Ding Dong…. the bell is ringing
Tick Tock, Tick, Tock…the clock is ticking
Oh my! Isn’t it so ah laa…rming!!

March has marched past, arrived hath April
The Day is Fifteenth and the time is Now
Bewitching beauties blooming
To present a Present, what can it be?

Hurrrray…got an idea!
Trash it as bosh… oh no yeah!
A Chitra to S. Chitra!
 Wah…what an idea!!
Call it not as Vichitra!

Dilli ki Raani, kaisi hai
Ye kavitha ishtyle ki kahani
Calling it lengthy…maharani?
So what, when it is lullabied with a lac of lustre and love aplenty!

Ps: Chitra = Drawing “Vichitra” = Strange. The enclosed drawing is, in a sense, strange since I’ve drawn it using mud.

Also in this blog is a poem titled Sayonara Samika penned for Samika, daughter of Chitra Sundararajan



More of my poems can be read at "My Poems"


My Ode for Divya Maiya

In the skies I see you soaring!
On your cap, I see the feathers growing
While you keep your flag flying,
And we enjoy watching it fluttering,

Wish you soar higher and higher.
May the scent of success,
Not drift you hither and thither.
Much akin to “Divya The Divine”

May your thoughts and deeds,
Become clearer and purer,
Whilst you remain rooted to the ground,
Deeper and deeper!!

Glittering Stars Waiting For You


(A poem I penned for my family friend Rahul Kayala)


Standing tall, Rising high
Aiming for the sky
Reaching for the stars
As you grow tall,
Taller and the tallest of all
May the sky come down
May they reach you
Oh those glittering stars in the sky.

Standing taller, flying farther
Head held high
May you go places
Tasting success
When you reach the pinnacle
It shall be no miracle
For reaching there cannot be
Sans The Sacred Revolution
Against countless debacles.

The secret to your hitherto success
Oh those keywords, in the midst of
The whirl of words during our chat.
“Can you tell us more?” our silent request;
“Can you please understand,
The time I now have on hand, I just can’t juggle,
Can you simply google”, you say with a giggle.
We return home beaming, yet buckling,
Off to bed, did you go chuckling?

Thank you Rahul, you are beautiful,
The time spent with you, that was wonderful.
Oops, for the “beautiful” feminine adjective!
Thank you Rahul, you are indeed handsome
Precious time you spared for us,
That was truly awesome!

Hu Hoo, Cu Coo, Cucumber


Water, water everywhere
Not a drop to batter my dosa
Pray to Thee, Oh Cauvery!
Can you allay our worry?
While the fight between States
Doesn’t seem to cease,
Your flow of fair share
Can it bend please
To all states, can it appease?

Cauvery states,
“While I shall do my best
For fair share to all States,
Don’t wait for me,
Go pluck that Southekaayi
From Mangaluru. To you, it’s closeby
Also known as Cucu (long name - Cucumber)
Use this in place of water
See how your dosa batter
Comes out sooo much better!”

Hu hooo, Cu cu ooo
How so sweet are you,
Taking the place of precious water,
Dosa made using you
Tastes bestest than better!
Hu hooo, Cu Cu Coo, Long Live Cucumber!!

Author: Mangala Madhuchand

Would you like to view Recipe for Cucumber Dosa? Here it is....Cucumber Dosa

Oh Bharathi! Jai Bharathi!!

13 Nov 2016
Poem penned just now for my dear friend Bharathi Prathap after listening to her concert yesterday at PESIT, Bangalore

Oh Bharathi!
Melodies that you render
Into our souls they penetrate
And there they reverberate.

Oh Bharathi!
What a crush with bliss
Thank God I didn’t miss
Thank you venue, PESIT
B’cos of you, I could make it.

Oh Bharathi!
May you remain blessed
To sing more n share more
Through your golden voice
For, our sorrows they redress
Our minds, they let rest
And our souls, they blissfully dress.

Oh Bharathi!
Our wishes to you
From the bottom of our heart
May your music bring
To one and all
*Kolagas of *keerthi
       
Oh Bharathi! Jai Bharathi!
Jai Bharathi! Oh Bharathi!!
Oh Bharathi! Jai Bharathi!!!

*(Kolaga is kannada word for pail, keerthi is kannada word for fame, glory)

Friday, 29 July 2016

To The Gang of Archies ’81 Alone!

Right in the middle, I wanted to be
Know not why, I did flee.
Recalling those bygone times when I first started reading my favourite newspaper, for reasons unfathomable, I was always fascinated by this “middle” grabbing centre stage all through my reading. “What’s that “thing” (Read: Article) printed there right in the middle, called?” I would ask my siblings. Little did I know then that this “thing” was indeed named after “Right in the middle”! How did my creation of this title match with the Editor’s? Is it by sheer coincidence that is part of our life? Was there a telepathy working between the Editor and me? Or if it has existed ever since this newspaper was born, how did I miss it, despite its age old existence? Questions like these lurk in my mind to this day!
An avid reader that I am, I feel green with envy when I see those names in print below the title. Will I ever get to see mine? Right in the middle of my reading, I ponder how do I reach there, down under and grab that hot seat! Wishful thinking by the kid in me, without the effort that is needed to be!
Although writing has been my long time passion, the dream of earning the coveted title of an “Author” has eluded me till date! Probably the fire in my belly is not burning bright enough to see the light of day!
Of late however, I am back to writing ways  albeit in a small way, courtesy “Archies” as we classmates fondly call ourselves, ever since we graduated in Architecture, way back then! Couched as we were in various nooks and corners of our own globe, I deemed it fit to do my bit to restore ‘The Connect‘ between us, Archies. Intent: Each one, Reach all. Mails of mine crawled at snail’s pace, with a word or two, initially. Slowly yet steadily they grew. Soon I saw a sea of mails sailing from my shore. Words started swelling in number and length creating waves of storm. True to my expectation, a line was born. Line grew up to be a phrase in its infant stage, slowly rising tall to reach a sentence, calling itself “a style statement” akin to the trend of teenagers today. Alongside these lines, the author in me too started evolving. From a phase of Phrase, I morphed to the phase of Prose. My literary graph shot up to a paragraph and more!
Some words within paragraphs started rhyming, singing in unison, “Can you pen a poem that rhymes with me?” Swayed by their singing, I started keying. Soon they started teaming, each one greeting the other, letting themselves mime together. Teams like these grew in number introducing themselves as “Verses”.
Thus, out of these verses  was born “A Poem” and out of me was born “An Infant Poetess”.
On reading my writings in those mails to Archies, I wondered, if Prose and Poetry are better halves of each other, inseparable as they are one from the other.
As I reach the edge of the “cliffhanger”, hanging in suspense whether I will ever see my name in print down under, this precipice shall remain the cornerstone of my “Literary Library Building”.
If indeed my dream comes true, courtesy this article printed in my favourite newspaper, armed with the title of a “New Born Author”, I shall race back home  away from this “middle” of attraction, leaving the readers reading with rapt attention!

Right in the middle, I wanted to be

Thank you Archies, for letting me be.