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Hi friends, So many of you wanted some info on me, so here I am. Actually I would rather let my writings speak for me. I am an English teacher,teaching senior students in La Martiniere Girls' College Lucknow. I have been a teacher for about 10 years now .I have loved teaching these girls on the threshold of adulthood, and my reward is the love I have received from them.The best compliment I have got is when a student came to me after passing out from school and told me that I was the most student-friendly teacher in school. Writing is a passion, of course, but of late, my thoughts seem to be flowing and I am finding myself writing with a vengeance, as though my time is running out. I am hoping someone, somewhere would just give me an opening and I could leave everything and just write...(Am I echoing the sentiments of all writers?) My interests are writing and reading, drawing, singing, music enlivens me and issues around me disappoint me. I have just about gone through some cycles of chemotherapy,( My doctor is hopeful of my recovery) and that has opened my eyes to the beauty of life, a lifetime, which is too, too short to accomplish all that I have to do, and I have had the privilege to see beyond the outer facade of people. That's a lot of learning in six months time. I have a caring husband who is an Urdu shayar and two lovely daughters who are very creative. God has given me a lot to cherish and a capacity to do so. I dream of a house in sylvan surroundings and lots of time to write. I hope I will find a publisher soon, especially since I want to get my memoirs of my fight against cancer published for all those battling their way ahead.So pals, If you know of a daring publisher, who would risk his reputation for a new writer, then please inform me.Anyway I'll still write, as that's what I do best. I would love to see Michelangelo's works...the 'Sistine chapel', 'David' and 'The Pieta.' My favourites are Khalil Gibran's 'The Prophet','Illusions' by Richard Bach and 'Man's Search For Meaning.' I love watching good films too. All art moves me and I have NOT outgrown Ayn Rand.I wish I had written 'Atlas Shugged'. My mantra is to speak out my mind whether anyone agrees with me or not. Please sign my guestbook. 10 Requiems for 2004 (Dedicated to the Tsunami Victims) Little dreams shattered, Small joys turned into a nightmare, Children’s games turned to wails, Parents felt tender hands slipping away From their grasp… Into the swirling waters Into the void of the deeps. Ordinary lives turned into News items… When Nature unleashed all its fury. Fury at what? Against whom? No one in particular… It’s a pity it cannot discriminate Against the rich or poor, Good or evil men. It does not judge people It always gives and sometimes takes. It does not spare a saint Nor does it punish a criminal. For there is some good in the bad And some bad in the good. Maybe this is the lesson it teaches us- Never to judge or to discriminate. That’s for God to do. Let us be mere mortals Living for ourselves and for others In true sincerity and integrity Just as God intends us to be. * * * It always pains to know That it takes a disaster To bring out the best in man. For then, He rises to the occasion, Goes beyond his self And expands his love beyond his family …Only to encompass all mankind. This is the greatest truth. When man wakes up from his slumber Of an apathetic life And works selflessly for strangers in need. This is the greatest service unto God. Whatever seers might say about detachment , It is attachment to life That makes a man apply it to the lives of others. And then he becomes most God-like. Living to help, to help others to live… And giving a shattered soul A new meaning, A new hope to live … When all is lost. To help build lives…from scratch. To show God’s concern through human hands. When man believes, And helps others believe That beyond shattered faiths and dreams …Lies life itself. * * * Memories of that fateful day Will never leave them in peace Memories so vivid in their nightmarish quality That make them start up from sleep And wail aloud as to scare the devils Will they ever be able to lead a normal life? Death and death everywhere Waves of death, Then epidemics, Then more deaths out of scarcity Of baby food, water, medicines, Death yet stalks the survivors. Death of body, soul and mind Death of dreams, hopes, ambitions, Life waited patiently... While death took its toll. Life retreated... While death advanced. Life let death do its job Just like an indulgent brother Then bid it go. For it had borne enough. Life had to return To pay compensation. To bring back some in its arms, And reunite some. Only then the cycle of Life and death would be complete. * * * Temples, churches and Buddhist monasteries Opened its doors to humanity, To all men of various faiths It forgot to discriminate As it gave shelter and peace To all irrespective of caste and creed, As did all those who volunteered To help people forget their nightmares And rebuild their lives. With no thought of religion and caste. All differences obliterated in an instant, When Nature taught us to believe and to help And not to discriminate, To bring back meaning to the blank stares of those Who do not know what hit them. To bring back the will to live To those who are traumatised... Searching for the bodies of loved ones. It's surely God putting mortals to the test. * * * Ruined homes, broken families, Estranged siblings, shattered lives, The spectre of death still looms large. Wars averted, peace restored... It takes the fury of the gods To still the passions of mortal minds. The scale of relative luck Tips the balance... As some survive by sheer miracle And some washed away into oblivion. Death did not pick and choose Or did it ? We can never know... Ironical Fate? Or is it in conformity With the cosmic pattern? We can never know... We can just live life to the fullest And bow before Death. * * * When 2004 bid adieu to the world It took with it lacs as its due, In a long drawn-out shriek of terror. Parties to usher in 2005 Will go on... As life goes on... Yet somewhere deep in our hearts Is a sorrow beyond compare. Maybe eternal Time does not recognize Landmarks of years, months, days, Maybe it just is ever-continuous Relentless... Let us not deify it Nor fear it, But suffer in silence. For out of suffering arises hope As life goes on... Hope to build dreams again From makeshift shelters To homes... is a journey Which has to be undertaken Even with eyes overbrimming with tears At a husband's, wife's or child's loss. They have to visualise a future, For those who survive Have to still evade death and starvation. A mother cannot exchange her life To bring back the child she gave life to. * * * The grim face of reality... Bodies of loved ones Carried by people in a bid To impart to them a semblance of dignity In death. A reality more bizarre than The cataclysmic face of dystopia. No imagined world of scientific megalomaniacs Can ever compare to the horror of The sea's devastation. When it decided to erode man's flimsy will. If this is not the Day of the Judgement What is? Isolated acts of courage Like sparks of life in a battlefield Littered with bodies. Muslim hands pulled Hindu men to safety, And vice versa As the feeling for humanity Transcended all prejudices. A baby never to feel the touch of a mother's hand, A father never to see the smile of his one-year old. Bewildered infants and inconsolable adults... They both cry for they remember too much. * * * Run... Run anywhere... Holding the hand of one child And one held to the bosom. Hold your Papa's hand And run... Don't scream little baby Hold me tight. I wish I had more arms To hold you tighter. Run...just run... Don't look back... The water's chasing us. Just run... through Water sweeping and reaching your feet. Run faster than the water... I didn't take my savings Or my daughter's trophies, Nor my husband's certificates... Run... now... faster This time the water's upto the knees, I know it is harder to run Through water and seaweeds, But run... And hold on tight. Don't fall little child, Don't hold my ankles, I can't bend down... Leave me ...my daughter's drifted away, I must go back... No, don't pull me on... I have to go back... She is crying... I can see her hand raised I have to swim... No... she can't swim... No...don't pull me on... I have to go back... Leave me... and go on... I won't be pulled to safety While my daughter's carried away By the cruel waters. There's a boy gasping for breath Let me save him... Maybe someone else will save my daughter. I wish to die. I had to buy a gift For my husband's birthday, I promised a tricycle To my daughter. I can't see her anymore ...I have to go on ...To save my other baby The water's upto my head now, It's pulling at my baby No...no...not again, Let me die instead. Don't go away, dear husband I can't live alone, You've left my hand, So have my children. Alone...alone... In the swirling, sucking waters Pulling me along ...To God knows where Where are they?... I was so happy Yesterday... In my little two-roomed flat, I did not ask God for more Or, maybe just a little more, Look what he's giving me... Where are you? I had to stay with my family Don't you understand? I had pledged to live and die with you. Swirling, tugging, What was that which bit me? I hope it doesn't bite my children. Let it carry me... Maybe... then it will spare my babies. I didn't know the sea was so big It'll scare my babies. Take me ... along To where they are... I can't look anymore, My eyes are hurting How will I recognize my children? The water's in my ears now And in my mouth I can't breathe... I can't see... I can't hear... The screams anymore. Maybe this is Death. * * * Rebuilding shelters, Rebuilding homes, Rebuilding lives In the best way man knows. Putting to use lessons learnt In past disasters, In personal losses. Every tear shed Comes of use now In wiping another's tear, Every bruise Heals another's bruise Silently... Anonymously... Rock-like... When man helps man Even God watches. * * * Nature’s unreasonable fury Or the frenzy of terrorists It is one and the same thing Both destroy Without taking a trial Or hearing a plea, There is no passing of judgement Just pain… and shattered lives. Sometimes though, it opens up opportunities Giving cause for bravery An occasion for those Who brave all odds To rise above all forces And forget themselves to bring others over the edge. * * * What is my dream? Or yours? What is the significance? In the face of tragedy...Crushing tragedy. In the larger context of men losing carefully-built homes, of women losing all their children, of the endless waiting of children for their parents, of the hope in Meghna's eyes, of despair of mothers carrying the bodies of their children to the funeral pyre? What is my dream or yours? Little misunderstandings and hurt sentiments? Bruised egos? In the panorama of life and death, all significance and meaning is blurred...washed away by the tears dropping from their eyes. Even tears stop flowing. Even hopeful eyes searching for a lost daughter get tired and vision becomes hazy. Heads spin as survivors remember the happy moments in their past...to know with the brutal realization that they will never come again. A life to rebuild. That's possible for the survivors. But what of relationships? A new life, maybe. A new husband? A new child? A new family? What use then is rebuilding a life?...It is mere existence Yet, one cannot commit suicide after surviving a catastrophe. It is the giving of meaning to their lives that is needed at the moment. After rebuilding their homes, giving them means of livelihood and medical aid, it will be time to heal the scars which are not physical...that will be the hardest part. For how do you give meaning to someone who has lost everything? When you have everything. It makes one feel guilty...despite having committed no sin. Ordinary people cannot counsel them... they need a prophet to give them a reason to live...beyond the holocaust. The cruel irony of fishermen who will depend on the very waters which have claimed their wives , their parents, their children. When they close their eyes to pray, visions of their children come unbidden...what sins have they committed they think...to have received this punishment. They still have faith in God. You think that strange? That is their only link to sanity. Every time man makes a leap forward, Nature jumps into the fray and pushes him back by a thousand steps. They say that the best things in life are free. They're wrong. When Nature takes back the best things in life, it's a mighty cost to pay. They say that it will take twenty years to recover. Maybe reconstruct. Recover, never. * * * Sign in to be able to view mpant's guestbook and friends list!
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