16 03 2015

She was Tiny…

With a head full of curls,

Occasionally the specs adorning,

A sleeveless shirt and pyjamas,

The gait, often as brisk, as what she was thinking.

She was a Powerhouse…

Of grit that was unmatched,

Of energy that was infectious,

Of precision that was unachievable,

Of perfection that was and is, a thing of Gods.

She was the Goddess…

That who understood the Math of God,

That who made sense of the complex universe

That who gave palatable dozes of the dreaded fruit

Mortals or monkeys, she gave as much as could be chewed

If un-chewed, a knock on the head was well deserved.

She was a Child…

One with wrinkles on that pink face

Those that deepened,

Either with that naughty grin or the trademark look of disgrace.

One that drove you crazy

One that loved making

And if imperfection prevailed, then indulged in as much of breaking!

Yes it was she, who jumped and scampered across that last day

While we waited with our noses stuck to the glass partition,

Wondering in dismay

It was our way of saying bye to her each day!

She was the Sceptre…

Of authority and nobility

Annihilating the flaw

And embracing the sublimity

She was an Aspiration,

That which was inimitable,

It was not good enough being ‘like’ her

One would rather strive to be ‘her’ or in the least a reflection of ‘her’

Equipped with my Jawaja leather bag,

Sans the pack full of nicotine,

The panache visibly absent,

I walk to school each day thinking to myself.

“What is it that she left us with and

“What can I leave my students with?

Today I realize,

Of all the precious things,

She gave us her sapphire eyes!


In loving memory of Nilam Iyer Ghosh.

I will meet you again someday dear teacher.

Hopefully the 14th attempt at the golden rectangle will be worthy of your nod.

Hopefully no wretched fly would decide to commit suicide on my sheet.

And hopefully you will never leave us again………….


Fondly forgotten…

5 08 2011

Ever kept a track of the number of people we have encountered in this life?

Ever wondered how many are living, how many are dead and how many we

have erased from the hard disk of our lives?


That certain ‘aaya’ from pre-school who pinned the handkerchief just right,

The first teacher who acknowledged your presence in class,

The girl who asked you to sit with her on the first day of a new school,

The friend you drew doodles with in the back-bench or

The one you went on rides with


The rickshaw-wallah who ferried you to the dance class,

The bread-wallah, who left his cartful of pastries & goodies in your custody,

The coffee-man who smiles at you and pours a lil extra into your cup,

The lady bent at right angle, who picks up your garbage with a smile that no miss World can match,


The hostel-mates who you shared just about everything with,

All those guys & girls you thought to be your prospective partners,

The fellow you would have slapped for eve teasing or for demanding more fair,

The random chap on the train you had a long chat with,

The friend who saved you in a delicate situation,

The people you met at internship and then never met again.


The grand-father who discussed taxes when you were in grade 5,

The granny, who could not live long enough to see you throw tantrums,

The parents, you are so afraid of losing and yet leave no stones unturned to trouble at times,


Those you would love to hate and those that you wish you had more time with…………


At times, it is a bit too late!

Some delicate strings somewhere, some rotten ones lying around and a few broken ones beyond repair

And then there are those that slipped away from your hands even before you could catch them, let alone treasure them.


Death takes away a lot.

But what it takes away the most are memories of those that we built them with

Ever felt that you might forget those people that parted

Or those little details about them ?

Their smile perhaps, their silly jokes or gestures?


Wish there were a trunk of these memories, carefully tucked away under the bed or something.

Ready for reference anytime!


These people, the memories and the circumstances make us who we are.


So, the next time you meet someone,

Remember to remember them!



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