My first blog

Maybe i'm late... but.... "better late than never" right ??
I've been hearing about blogging but never ventured into it thinking this was some funky "buddhi jeevi" stuff... BTW for the info of non-mallus "Buddhi jeevi" (or "buji" in short) is a word used for those with "elevated minds" so to speak. I'm not one of them and i've now discovered that blogging is not only their terrain... and here i dive into it.

Female Generation

Females have many descriptions,
Based on their different stages,
Descriptions not simple to state,
But that which run through pages.
As a baby, she is so innocent,
Like a bud that has just awoken from her sleep,
Unaware of the evil world
Which she is yet to face,
And dwells in her own magical world.

As a girl, she learns to live life,
Taking advice from her elders,
And looks like a flower beside the human door,
A flower, yet to blossom.
As she grows, she goes to school
And then to college, and
Then she learns to maintain her household chores.

At the time of her marriage
She is often a commodity,
Often purchased for dowry
By the fosters of her groom to be.
And when she goes to her new house
She resembles a rupee,
For now she is in one’s pocket,
And then in another.

She performs her duties
As a wife, to her husband,
AS a mother, to her children,
And when old, she is bent with age,
But still she performs her duties.

She bears all that comes her way
And accepts it with a Smile.
She plays a vital role in life,
For without her,
Life is Incomplete.

On Poetry

The world can be divided into two absurdly disproportionate portions – those who read poetry and those who don’t. Those who do read poetry are not seen in favourable light by those who don’t; similarly those who cannot bring themselves to suffer through a couple of lines of verse are treated with condescension by those who do. And heaven forbid, if one writes poetry, one is viewed as a sort of nut-case. (Don’t argue with me. I know that for a fact.)

That is why I always maintain that writing poetry is a dangerous pastime; it’s like white water rafting or mountaineering. Those who do not raft or mountaineer just do not get the concept of finding happiness in choking on water or baking in the sun.

As children we are naturally drawn towards nursery rhymes and the pleasant ebb and flow of syllables in conversation. I am yet to come across a child who would not be soothed by even the most unmelodious lullaby sung by his mother. Poetry is just a grown-up version of those lullabies. Sadly, not many are able to partake of the undiluted joy of reading beautiful verses.

Verses enthral and delight, once you acquire a taste for them it’s difficult to let go. Most poetry that stay in the mind are those written the traditional way. With rhyme and meter and scansion. They also paint vivid pictures, they tell you stories; there are some poems after reading which, one does not remain the same. I can give three examples illustrating each of the aforementioned aspects.

Painting pictures – The Darkling Thrush by Thomas Hardy.
This is a gorgeous poem about a thrush ecstatically belting out ‘a full hearted evensong’ even in a desolate and sombre evening. This is one that has to be read out aloud.

Story – There are plenty in this category. But a beautiful story is that of The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes.

A possible life altering poem is If by Rudyard Kipling.

And if you just want to have fun reading poetry, there are tons of them. My absolute favouritest fun poetry are by Vikram Seth – Beastly Tales from Here and There. Mind candy I tell you. Erm.. Beastly Tales is a book of poetry for children though, but that’s what makes it so fabulous. Vikram Seth is a genius, what else can I say! Link: Frog and the Nightingale.

There are also these brilliant teeny verses by Ogden Nash. Can it get any better than this?

And Cats! How can I forget Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats?! There are even Broadway plays on these Cats.

If reading these ain’t pleasure, I don’t know what is!