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Showing posts from August, 2014

A World of Its Own

It is a safe haven, where the ivy grows on the walls and little ferns on the ground. The walls is cracked enough to let the whole sun in and when the rain pours, besides the sky, it leaves the world outside for a little girl. She thinks now could it be just restored somehow, the pleasure of her life, the sound of cowbells, the sparrow's song and the climbing vine horizontally and the little snails among the stone ground.


blue iris,
the sun will descend soon
in purple hue

The Shiki Monthly Kukai August 2014

August 2014 Kukai, wherein Kigo subject was SUNFLOWER, and Free Format subject was GOODBYE(S)/DEPARTING WORDS heat waves... from a train window the sunflowers Neelam Dadhwal India (0,0,1) = 1 pts drifting tree cotton
I spin a goodbye too
Neelam Dadhwal
Chandigarh, India
(0,0,2) = 2 pts

One After Another

Another flower has given its counterpart, Zinnia, a company. However, contrastingly looking in direction both blooming as of some conspiracy to mend those barriers, I am imagining. As I photograph them from various angles, I remember their survival through bug attack, soil nourishment, rough wind and not-so-benevolent weather.

rain breeze...
the spell is broken
by his arrival

Forever

The roughness in my throat settles but then the panacea is the culprit and also the moon. Yes, I am talking here about the Amla Muraba (Gooseberry sweet pickle). Its much rich body of vitamin C is imbued with sweet syrup and gulping down, it fight its own enemy as of the willingness to settle in my stomach. In later winter, there is no way to resist its tangy allure in eating raw but then who have climbed those trees and sneaked into the hidden places with the fruits.


iron red laughter the summer hurtles

An Afternoon Nap

Just as it is the nature of rainy season, for no reason it will cloud the sky, hold in belief and when possible, strike through the sun's rays. How brilliantly it touches back a twig, a vacant corner, or a moment!


droopy eyes
coming out a dream
in silence

Day Off

The bridge has been destroyed and the road is constructed and from years, the sand has been replaced by the soil. Somewhere else, the flood water is diverted and channelized into a river. However, the undergrowths still have the memories and there could be that sparkling sand that shifts from my hand, in this region where flooding is an antonym to a still lake.

wildflower...
no where to grow
and bright

A Cycle

A verbena fell off its bush growing in the little shade, a purple hue. A color that could melt one's heart, even a non-observer or to one immersed in one's own affairs, it is delightful. But now that it has left the stalk, not a gentle push can put it back.



in the shade
of a growing vine
a flowering bud

Finding

Up and up, the vine wants to go and I do not have space. So, I tilt it sideways on a railing but its tendril refuses the east.


dawn...
this peak
the sun hit

Wilderness

Now even the smallest plot in what we knew as the wilderness is occupied by a building,  however its face towards the road, the trek from behind is covered with the wild grasses difficult to go through. This is the same pathway of our intended thoughful hideaway in the tree trunks, the germ of our inspiration behind the hide and seek. Though we never left the playground, but what tired easily other little players had left us in the maze of twisted bars or a train tunnel for long hours.



vultures...
as they learn to play
with us above

Linking to Nature at P.N. Botanical Garden

Changing environment has its impact and many Indian states including Punjab, Chandigarh, Delhi and Haryana are witnessing hot waves still in August while the monsoon commences well by the end of July.

With a little cool weather, the only favourable thing was to go for a garden walk. P. N. Botanical Garden is situated in Sector – 14, Punjab University, Chandigarh where one can find arboretum, bambusetum, cactus house, fern house, growth room, lily pools, orchid house and plametum. Ms. Neelam Dadhwal, a haiku poet from Chandigarh visited the garden recently.

Despite warming levels, there was dense moss beneath the specific zones of bamboo, pines and palms. The grass in wide and far was covered with common goldstar that choosing the natural pathways was not an option. Certainly one can find seasoned woods with lichen, ant holes with leaves, and above branches from stoic stems of one tree expanding to the other. 

Lit with seasonal flowers like verbena, cassia, cape jasmine, sna…

A Span

There are few places where I can walk, except for gardens, tourist spots and shopping malls in Chandigarh. These roads are spared from the heavy traffic and in this isolation, fortuitously both the source and the destination seem to connect with each other.

daybreak...
on a round walk
our lengthened talks

Daily Dosage

For a breakfast suggestion, dosa recipe has the following:

1. Ready mixes
2. Surprise mixes, yet with element of crispness, taste.
3. Masala - spiced up if you have printed recipe too on the packet.
4. Interesting cooking instructions, with use of language and/or signs.

Believe me, ready-to-eat packages tingle the belly and are served prepared in 10 minutes flat.

I, yesterday prepared with basic ingredients and the yeast had its flavor yet in the crust with softness of a melon. I was glad I tried it. Still lingering taste in my mouth, another recipe mixture saved in the fridge reminds me of those dosas.


thinking
how mature I have become...
the hum of a fan

Play of Seasons

Every tree unfolds its story in its own specific way. Summers, when the Cassia was brightening up the either sides of the roads and if there has been exception, it was not noticed. Come rains and I felt back into the Kangra valley only with exception that on either side of huge mountains or the ravines, these high-rise green trees seem to envelope me in mystery. A day before to library in Sector 34, the Kadamba trees lit up the roads with their flurry balls whose spikes formed a carpet beneath and this coincided with Janamashtmi (The birthday of Lord Krishna).

noon shift...
nowhere a butterfly
from the kadamba


Noon shift is all season kigo for me, a shift from the time when our shadows are the shortest and then starts to lengthen.

Goals

Last year, I read a lot about carbon footprints and how the energy has to be saved with power-saving gadget tips and taking break from technology. But on the go with the laptop, before the web crawlers can find what I want I graduate to a stream of documents on the web that are essential for my career and life. The crisp information also a strong factor that there is cut off in intermediatory files and folders to store, revise, improvise and discard too


charcoal earth
I mistake as
the sediment rock

Away

I am reading the recipes and found the mention of them in foreign menus. Not surprised, how after few days of bread and dosas, I revert back to rotis (wheat flour chapatis). As the home menu needs a change once a while, trying chinese, south indian, lebanese or mediterrarian is common. Yet, dipping my fingers into the dal makhani at the Sindhis are somewhat worth the wait and the treat.


cool noon...
the scent of steamed idlis
out from a window

three haiku

full of nuts...
a squirrel jumps from
branch to branch
evening revelers...
the sparrows' chatter
fades away

flag unfurling... school children glee like the rose petals

Progress

It is another excuse to let the water purifier run; the discarded water through filter hits the sink and makes a constant sound of the mild rain as a little stream sans the sound of trees, the breeze or the raindrops that fall on the earth.

While other parts of the country are witnessing danger marks in the rivers due to rains, there is still nothing here in and around Chandigarh. Sometimes, sincerely I wish a singer would be able to coax the Rain god by singing the raag Malhar.


Cetrizine with the half of my mind numb

Night Rise

Both sides of a road are filled with plants of type but cannot judge how the heavy dust particles become more omnipresent. We learn so much from our environment, without guessing on average only few plants do we grow in our gardens. At once in sight are some of fading flowers in ever-changing landscape, I realize the role has reversed. It is up to us to learn, appreciate and promote.

the traffic
on a highway
without streetlights

In A Phase

Resistance, the pests or insects start to refuse the bait. I am left to be better at tackling a straight line from the door to my room of the ants in discipline or of bugs on some plants (also indoors). As I prepare my meals throughout a day, the mechanism to lace the non-traditional bait starts to impact me. A poet and to be a pest killer are hardly synonymous and I try to discipline them now for nothing or just deroute to some other natural habitat.

little sunrays...
I look upon my plants 
from the shade

Matter of Space

The gate of this housing society lies in west and during the rains, one has to walk 100-200 extra miles to reach the main road. One such day, the clouds had gathered in the sky and were pouring slightly but in distance the apperance was to fog setting. The environment was hazy with the high-rise buildings appearing to be soil moulds that seem to shrivel and indulating with the flow. It gives an eerie impression to be consonant with the nature and enjoy at still while it lasts.

remaining on leaves
the raindrops --
o dew, o dew

Particularly

Tomorrow I will be going to mall where each line of lower and uppder zones are stacked with groceries. As many as I can lay eyes on and as many as options, I wish to switch between. 

             curling noises I remember the sounds of wild

What is there to think about, you can pick up snacks of any taste and type, though later allergies or season specification slowly and slowly works out to pick just the particular ones. Then there are products which are never on list but fills me with wonder to try them! There are electric cookers, curd maker, metal cleaners. It could be luck if I might impress my visitors with new skills I am gradually acquiring.


            toothless grin of a grandmother a combed corn

Below The Sky

Since I started feeding birds in my balcony, I had numerous experiences and can predict when they are hungry or happy. During last few weeks, the bird bath was refreshed or food was served at different times. I kept eye to understand their behaviors and reacted when suitable. Sometimes, they would just sit on the edge thinking I will not scare them I away.

preaching a crow's beak in its feather

The birds have form a habit now, when to visit my balcony. Other times, I could watch them in their resting spaces or flying in the evening sky. I still keep one of my pots inside whose flowering tip was eaten twice by any of those avians. This feels me with guilt of superficial love for them but I am really planning on adding grains and plentiful change in their diet, especially when I leave to stay with my parents for a day or two.

becoming
what I am, a year older
mint sprigs




Nothing Like It

Once over the crescent moon, the sky laden themselves with clouds the following nights and yesterday, the clouds formed shapes around it, appearing to be holding it. I guess for everyone it remains an experience of sorts, for me a new kigo word to check whether the relevance is right or some other context exists and I have to work on it. In its own transience, I for past many weeks unable to go outside and form a company being a solitary person. The moon angles appear through my balcony and kitchen window and persist the story continues.

tip tap tip tap...
a prefecture in a silent day
expecting rain

The Moss Story

The road is familiar, at the end there should be a stone boundary where I can find the moss in abundance. Far from an official building, nestled among trees I can sense it. My steps gradually walk in its direction leaving many small mosses on the way, each of which I do not want to disturb in the name of pilferage. The boundary was however, not present to which I felt dismayed. The space beneath the trees has been converted to parking space. Before I could sit out of breath on a near pavement, my eyes fell on spaces below the trees. The trees are in full bloom due to rains but old, decayed leaves still formed blanket. As I went near, there beneath them laid house full of moss.


dichotomy...
from a fissure of rubber tree
ficus

Going for It

Reading a book, every passage is stark and I would have not minded about the period that is written about, the Russian Revolution. The passion of a young woman in dark days of falling economy and totalitarian state is interesting to think about. I leave many other books aside to pack up a due date for this book. There are few commitments for me today, even after noticing blotches on a plant. Few websites provide information and that too with solutions of insecticide mixture in different percentages.

fallen leaf
flying alone...
autumn is not here

Something

Technology is thriving on popular market. Certainly many work fields become obsolete because they just get replaced or become useless. Sometimes, I grieve the missing flour mill which I can find in another far stretch when traveling through villages. The people leave places and choose for means that provide suitable or stable income. Few animals such as goats, cows or bufflaoes tied near houses feel at ease, still in the lap of nature they wish for a stranger's hand caressing their skin.


morning dew...
this is how I start
sipping the day

Transience

Feeling sweaty I woke up and thought obviously, it is around 3 a.m. Learning so many examples, it is no surprise to predict. I miss heron's song throughout summers but the first rains and they are still not here. The still days with clouds drifting away, the fan's sound is a barometer of the shuffling air which makes difference this time.

green valley...
the voice echoes back to me