Works of RK

Another year comes to a close. I take a moment to wave my goodbyes to this year. It has been kind to me. It has allowed me to pass through it without the pain of sickness, it has ensured that I always had food on my table, and those of my loved one who chose to leave, lived a good life, as long as it lasted. I will not be praying for better times. I will not be asking for more money. I will not be asking for better friends or fewer enemies. These are things that the good Lord takes care of for me. From the year that is yet to come, I ask for kindness and mercy and forgiveness as traits in me. May every penny that comes my way, find its way to my community too. May the food on my table, feed those in hunger all around me too. May my capability to love extend beyond myself and my family, to the community and to the Society too. Send me troubles that will make me stronger, adversities that will help me understand myself better and relationships that will teach me inclusion and patience. ...

For teaching me to respect You and through you All of womankind. For hearing things that I would otherwise never speak of, And telling me things That I would otherwise not want to hear. For declaring me sane Even when I and the world believed otherwise. For nudging me to take risks Which on my own I would never have taken. For all the  hollering and badgering you fill my otherwise silent life with. For blackmailing and threatening and extorting Every saree churidar and dress That I would have anyways given you with all my love. For negotiating with mom and pop And ensuring that I don't set the house on fire. For being my sister and my friend And helping me define Such relationships more closely Forever I remain blessed And forever will be my gratitude.

Papu's dog used to follow him all day long. I believe it was this dog that gave us the word "dogged". If you wanted to know where Papu was, you could search for his dog instead. There was this time when Papu's wife found him missing from the bed well past midnight. She knew that Lakshmi the neighbor had hots for him. She also knew that Babu, Lakshmi's husband, was out of town. Suddenly everything fell into place! Her fears were about to come true! With a heavy heart she stole her way out into the dark night and made way to Babu's shack....and knocked. No answer. She knocked again, now harder. No answer! Now she knocked even more harder. The lights in the neighborhood started coming on. She could no longer hold back her tears. She screamed in anguish..."open you dog, I know you are in there!" And just then there was a small sound from the cattle shed next to the shack. Papu's dog walked out of the darkness, glanced at her for a moment, gave a woof...

The clatter clatter of your Stilettos Running into the angry night That fiery perfume of yours Still engulfing me, in flames of your angst! An empty table The insolent stare from the waitress And the smug look on the guy by the window And oh...a small fortune of a bill! Welcome back baby ;-)

The iron box feels quite heavy. It has been years since I have ironed a shirt. All my growing up years were filled with ironing chores. I would have my dads shirt to iron, moms saree and sisters skirt to iron. I was also a difficult-dhoti ironing expert. I could iron the starched dhotis and cotton sarees back to shape. I was also a bike and car cleaning expert. My tiny hands could reach into places that were seldom cleaned, and then I would polish the chrome for hours. I was also an expert cook of the exotic dishes. I could make a jelly out of any fruit, but guava was the favorite. I was also the go to kid for curtain and double bedsheet cleaning. All my growing up years were spent doing these chores at home. And then, until the time granny was alive, she would make me work in the fields for a glass of coffee and loads of love. All the trees we planted together have weathered the seasons of time. The stand tall like my grandma. Tall and proud and strong. The iron box feels quite heavy ...

It was a Disney kind of life. There was this old Diesel Engine chugging through the green valleys of peace. Its black soot smelt of gasoline, and that was wonderful! Life was younger, more vibrant. Our dreams a lot more vivid and believable. A kiss was a kiss, not just that rubber grinding the loins and it retained the kind of naivete purity, in its adolescent entirety. I am not sure when we grew up. Not sure when our minutes became shorter, life faster and duller. I am not sure when our memory machines stopped making new memories, not sure when when God walked into our Eden. Not sure when we turned sinners... and sinned. Rajesh This one if for all the young ones. Here is wishing you beautiful memories from your growing up days .

Courtesy www.aolcdn.com Life is a grinder. It slowly grinds the best of us unto fine powder. All our jarring edges and rough ends get ground into micron size fine dust. Its an endless process. In goes our dreams of flying planes as a kid, in goes the first love and with it, those thoughts about that beautiful teacher falling in love with me or that neighbor girl looking my way. In goes my dreams of riding a Harley with the hair of my loved one catching the winds. Its a painstakingly slow process. The mills work silently, in long meandering vortexes of time. Everything that is our tomorrow, slowly becomes our today, gets ground, becomes one with the rest of our past. Fine Dust. Each day that I wake up, I look at life right up front. I know that this day will also be consumed. I know that the memories that I create from today will someday be painted the same dull blue from my yesterdays. I know that my today will finally meet my yesterdays. There is no escape. There is no other way. But ...