Pinocchio

Fate, the absolute tyrant -

Brings me to my desk,

And I sit down to vent

This infernal night,

As prose or verse,

Or utter hogwash -

My wasted emotions -

Which some termed rhapsodic.

I promised myself not to cry -

As the day would dawn,

And I'd wheel down the aisle.

Making myself fall prey -

To another trade

Of cash and silver and solid gold,

A car and bungalow and so much more

- Of which in detail, I wasn't told.

Though I was called a beauty

Who could leave people dazed,

With two curvy dimples,

That lit my pretty face.

People never touched me

And would look at me with shame

Tell me I looked fragile

Once they knew I was lame.

I grew within four walls -

Comfy cushions and space

And it wasn't my legs, feeble

That restricted my pace.

It was love from parents

Siblings' scorn and care

That kept me from the wisely world

To go outdoors, I never dared.

I grew up crawling on my limbs

And seeing people walk

I never wished for them to stop -

Only prayed that they wouldn't talk!

For it was not their legs, I longed for

I reveled for what I was!

I only hoped they applied thought

Before pitying, how crippled I am!

I grew up watching the world go by

Each day and night would fly

Fantasizing with what I had been blessed -

My free and 'abled' mind!

I dreamt of a world - filled with trust

And friends who would 'walk' with me

Who would talk to me for who I was

And not offer sympathy!

I wished for love,

And found mine, divine

In a fairy tale -

Ironic indeed!

I sang love songs,

Wrote mushy poems

Painted wild dreams -

All to him, which would eventually lead.

You must have known this little boy -

Though a flaw, he did make history.

"Pinocchio", he was fondly called

And was known as a puppet with zeal!

It was not his quest for love that struck

Nor his zest to live

For it was his gait with wooden legs,

In which I could identify me!

But my dreams were thwarted

When to a man, I was entrusted -

(Or rather, on me thrusted)

One - with no love, but legs instead.

Along with blessings

For him to take along

Ample gifts were bestowed -

To keep us betrothed!

And now I await

To be proclaimed his wife

In the presence of a world

Which always kept me deprived.

It will be dawn

And I will soon be gone -

Yet I will yearn

For my Pinocchio to return!

A Promise.

It was a lazy Sunday morning, the week before Christmas. A hard earned weekend for me, after a crazy week and a late night at office the previous day.

The phone rang flashing the name 'ABR'. It was only 8 am. I knew the debate would soon begin.

ABR, aka Aswin and I were volunteers for the HUGS camp, an NGO that 'Helps children Go to School'. It had more to do with play learning, for the underprivileged kids. The recent camps were at the Royappuram Boys home – a government shelter for orphans, children of convicts, kids who ran away or were sent away and so on. We heard about HUGS through Facebook (these days I turn to FB for everything – for gossips from friends’ circles to the latest tips in make-up, from current affairs to the international news. FB has got it all covered!)

Both of us were pretty lazy to wake up and spoke with our eyes closed, under the pretext that that would help us catch on lost sleep, as our lips gibbered away to glory!

I waited for him to say "Let's chuck it and go back to bed". That way the blame would not be on me for backing out. Neither would be the guilt, of disappointing a bunch of kids who looked forward to meeting us every fortnightly.

I guess he read my mind. So instead he said, "You decide Geethu. Am game whatever!"

Hmm... Smart a _ _ !

Spoke like a true man. Left it to the woman to decide. Now I was stuck.

And trust me, it was tough to have decided not to go and yet say, 'Ok! Fine. I'll meet you in 30'. But, that's what I said.

So there we were, that cold December morning, riding from Royapettah to Royappuram, covering a distance of almost 18 kms, on the most dilapidated bike ever! (I know by putting this up, I risk my chance to be ever spotted riding pillion on it).

Aswin spoke as he rode, about old Madras and its monuments along the roadside. He was thanking the British for building short-cuts roads and said that the one we took would take us to the home faster. I wasn't too happy, for a longer ride would have meant more time for me to sleep. However, my desperate attempts to snooze would anyways go futile, for Aswin ensured that not a single gutter or pothole went 'unattended'.

The ride lasted well over 45 minutes, thanks to the drizzle in between. As he parked the bike within the compound of the home, many hands extended out towards him, calling him "Maddy", "Madhavan", "Anna" fondly. The children inside the shelter seemed happy to see us.

We walked in to see Karthik briefing the new volunteers about HUGS. Renita meanwhile was being her chirpy self, organizing the set of toys to be distributed amongst the volunteers. It was my third trip and I felt like a pro already.

The children assembled in the hall. Christmas was round the

corner and a few kids were decorating the walls. Somebody had to keep the rest of them engaged till the play session would begin. Aswin, Sidharth, Amit and I sat amongst the kids.

A few children, who were familiar with us from the previous sessions, came closer to ask how we were, went on to tell us what they had for breakfast and so on. While the new kids watched on in awe. It would take a little time for them to start mingling.

For a few were shy.
Few scared.
Few indifferent.
Few differently abled (deaf, dumb, blind, physically or mentally challenged).

And there were a few more, who could talk, see and

hear. Yet they couldn’t mingle with the rest of the kids. For they spoke languages no one could decipher – it could have been Assamese, Gujrathi, Konkani or even Oriya.

The huge responsibility of talking to the children and locating where they came from, based on their mother tongue, fell on the translator appointed by the government. And he spoke only 2 languages - Tamil and Hindi.The lucky ones were traced back to their homes. The others were provided with shelter, food and education. And they just stayed on. And soon picked up Tamil.

Yet another reason why HUGS needs more volunteers, who can speak different languages.

Coming back to the 19th of December, 2010. Renita and Monica had split the toys for each group, while we helped split the kids into groups of 4 to 5 each.

That's when I noticed Aswin sit with a boy, hardly 10 years old. He was crying clinging on to the window and refused to budge and mingle with the rest of the gang. I offered to help. The 'woman' in me had woken.

I held him close. But he moved away, as large drops of tears kept wetting his faded T-shirt. His answers were restricted to nods and wipes (of his tears, of his nose and occasionally his T-shirt). I had to ask him several questions like

'Did your friend fight with you?'
'Did you not eat this morning?'
'Did someone at the camp scold you?'
'Do you not like the rains?'
'Did you hurt yourself'

… to finally figure out the following:

- The boy had been at the home for hardly 2 days.
- His father had left him there, for he could not provide for his education.
- He had lost his mother earlier that year.
- His sister was also put up at an orphanage nearby.
- He did not like the place (that was the easiest to figure out).

I did not know how to manage the situation. Do I just sit with him or do I try console him and make him cry further? Renita and Karthik offered to take over. And whatever they did, they really seemed to be good at it. For the boy was soon playing and laughing. He was introduced to the rest and they were asked to make him feel at home. Many heads nodded and we knew they would keep their word.

Meanwhile, I had a bunch of loyals from the previous session waiting to play the 'Indianised' version of the Monopoly, with me. They loved the feel of the money, though fake. They refused to play any other game. They waited patiently for me to divide currencies among them - denominations of 10,000s, 5,000s, 1,000s, 500s, 100s, 50s and 10s. And as we played, I observed that this time they were better organized. They were well-planned about how to spend their money and highly enthused to purchase plots and construct houses. I was amazed at their willingness to help friends who turned paupers!

At HUGS, we use games like Building blocks, Memory cards, Snakes and ladders, Dominoes and sorts, to teach the desolate kids something - to count, to remember, to share, a good manner, a duty, a social responsibility. Any one thing that we could in the 2-3 hours spent.

But usually it worked the other way around.

For often, the kids ended teaching us - the privileged lot, much more than what any school or college could ever offer!

After yet another fulfilling session of play learning, I walked out and waved goodbye. And my 'loyals' came along and called out to me,

"Akka, we will wait for you... Please come fast for the next session!"

I nodded my head.

Only to hope I'd keep my word!

To know more about HUGS or volunteer, please check the following links:

http://hugsind.blogspot.com/

http://www.facebook.com/pages/HUGS-India/161721683860042?v=info

Be mine!

I do not ask for love -
That transcends death.

I don't ask for love -
That knows no depth.

I do not ask for love -
That transcends time.

I just ask for love -
That I can call mine!

Happy (?) New Year!

A journey of 10 years!

Just dashed in a flash -

But stay happy, tonight

For its the new year night!

Dead people and dreams -

The Pope, Super Man and Steve!

Careers, cars and movies -

BPOs, Ford 500 and Avatar's Navis!

A decade moves on -

All changed. Can't redeem.

But you be merry -

For its the new year, dearie!

Seen couples getting wed -

Arun Nayar and Liz Hurley!

Seen plenty of blood shed

Not them, but Iraq, Iran and the Afghani!

But don't you worry!

We will have days of glory

The past is dead -

For its the new year, ahead!

Heard mighty men scream

Osama v/s George B!

And seen teary eyes gleam

14th Dec'06 at WTC!

We may have lost men

But don't we have many more left?

Come, rejoice with no fear,

For its a new year, so no tears!

Seen many deaths -

Thousands went with the Tsunami!

Seen many more births -

Are we still behind the Chinese?

We will move ahead

For in God, we believe

The future is clear -

For its a new year, dear!

I'm abode.

I yearned for years - long

For a humble man, I could call mine.

For that warmth across the table, as I sat down to dine.

For that naughty stare at me, as I'd undress shy.

For that amusing smile, as I blabbered when high!

For a chin with rough stubbles, that would caress my lips.

For ever lending ears - to take in my never ending cribs.

For a name around my finger, etched in gold.

For that grip around me, as I'd turn old.

I'd waited long enough, I could abide no more!

And that's when you walked by, as if you heard me cry!

And offered me a hanky, to wipe my tears dry.

Your tired eyes claimed, that you had come a long way.

I offered to leave, but you said you were here to stay!

You said you were no novice, and you did look worldly-wise

Though your boyish charms, did raise in me - alarms!

I sat there beside you, sharing stories of a life - wooed.

A tale of a short girl, yet it took a mighty long while!

You have been listening for long, yet you probe me to go on.

And I still babble away and I still babble away...

Love is but a crazy thing.

It is astounding how -

We grow apart.

Today madly in love,

Tomorrow, a heart torn!

The passion is soon gone

Now with differences - profound,

The bond is dead

And morales are down.

Life is a trap -

Where love is a game,

With players insane!

Is it worth all that pain?

How people mourn!

Curse the moment they were born

Dialogues filled with scorn

Soon those days are, too, gone!

Only man can wound

While making choices in love

Weigh and disgrace -

The life, to which they may get bound!

Love comes to those

Who would wait - I have heard!

Though absurd, may I say?

It did come to me, again!

As I am all game,

For another round to play

I can only pray -

That this time, it stays!

A note of thanks!

Though tears don't well up, the way they did.

My breath doesn't stop nor heartbeats skip,

My cheeks don't blush, my gait doesn't trip,

But you as a thought, is yet to be nipped.

For it was you who taught me how to breathe -

And you who showed me, how a man could cry -

How to love even when deprived

How to let go, yet long all the while.

In the midst of agonies along my plight

You gave me a reason to soulfully smile.

Though I was just a toy, you yearned for a day

A fantasy you sought - in your words, a fay!

Until one day and to my utter dismay

Leaving me broken, you chose to walk away.

Though it left me torn and I kept counting days -

You'd never be back and had no reason to stay!

I missed you still, in my own ways

I missed it, when I heard your name

I missed your wink, I missed your style

I missed the way I'd felt you're mine.

A year was long, and I recovered

I never knew then, that you would return -

To check if I was well, to warn me not to stray!
To assure me that, I'd learn to love again!

I am happy now, for when you came back -
You brought along with you the light, I had lacked
You helped put back what you had whacked!
You gave me my guy and I'm thankful for that!