in memory of

How would I like to be

Remembered

I have been

Different things

To

Different people

So they will remember me

Variously

If my parents

Outlive me

I will be

The one who

Never did

Anything right

I would like

My teachers

To remember me

For my word mettle

My bosses

As a doer

My team

As a nurturer

My students

As someone

Who enjoyed teaching

Because

She enjoyed learning

My friends

As someone

Who always bounced back

My daughter

As someone

Who lived and loved for her

Button-nosed doll

treasure-house

Of late

I have noticed

I like myself better

I can sit

In the suffusing

Colors

Of my drawing room

And listen to my own silence

Without

Giving it

A twisted

Or warped

shroud

Of

Loneliness

I am beginning

To court

My calm

From within

All that churn

Of all those years

Finally seems to have

Yielded

A treasure-house

No more crying

About

How

I wasted

Pearls before pigs

I am harvesting them now

The oyster and I

We are partners

I look at my life

In the eye

Boldly

And say

You have been good to me

Even when I didn’t know it

flow

It is a travesty

Of the human psyche

When we are young

We are in tremendous hurry

To be grown-ups

Because

Somehow

That is a promised land

Untold freedom

No questions asked

No curfew

Just the overwhelming

Responsibility

Of yourself

When we grow old

We desperately want

To be young

Because

That is la la land

We inject the wrinkles

Off our skin

We paint

Our bedraggled

Strands of hair

Coaxing them

Not to reveal

Their true colors

We prop all things

That are befriending gravity

Lustily

And when people say

You don’t look your age

we bite our tongue down to

Throttle the

‘yippeeeee’

That’s raring to

Get vocal

Why cant we

Enjoy

What we are

At that point in time

I remember

A young friend's wisdom

When our dog was

a few days old

she said

enjoy her ‘pup’ stage

you will never get it back

don’t be in a hurry

for her

to grow up

that’s how she will be

for the rest of her life

as a pup on the other hand

is a very small window

savor every minute

if only we knew

victories in life

are when you flow

with the tide

swimming against

is over-rated

gender bonding

When I was young

I took pride in saying

I don’t get along

With other women

Guys are so much easier to

be with

it was fashionable

being one of the boys

now with salt-pepper

in my hair

I find it

Easier

To connect

With other women

You should see my friends

So different not just from me

But from each other

Upbringing

Career choices

Exposure

Life’s lessons

Passions and prejudices

Contrarian

Unconnected

Chalk and cheese

Yet over the years

The bonds we have forged

Have grown stronger

In the face of

Ravages of time

Distance

Our being women

Seems to have over-ridden

All else

Our lowest common denominator

plan Z

People used to say

If everyone has

Plan B

I always have

Plan Z

I have let

People think

I am smart

Far-sighted

The truth is

I have taken

So many

Seriously hard knocks

My life has been

Such dangerous territory

Forever cruising

Along the

Precipice

Which voided out

No road

Remaining the way it did

At the start post

Road map

Almost as if

A child doodled

Mindlessly

As if

He was laughing at me

There is a

Yiddish expression

Man plans

God laughs

Made with me

In mind

So much so

Today

I may not have a

Plan A at all

But I will have

All the redundancies

In place

page 3

the rats in my head

have gone away

holiday time maybe

you keep saying

the world and

its aunt

are blogging

why are you

waiting in the wings

maybe i don’t have

a dog called srk

or a show that says

i am a fifth standard fail

my life is not about

rigors of

everyday living

but vigor and vibrancy

and happiness

hungrily espoused

gravitas i was willing to share

articulate in words

but euphoria

is defying

too mercurial

to be scooped up

dressed in

appropriate

apparel and

accessories

anyway

pathos

is a fashion statement

contentment

is too proletarian

not page 3 material

at all

corner shop

i am amused at

your description

that i am like this

corner shop

that

fixes puncture

sends a plumber

shows houses for rent

has an STD booth

supplies milk

and takes in

old newspaper

i do so many

different things

that require

different skill-sets

lines between home

and work

have blurred

laptop

is the common

lifeline

and like the

corner shop

my earnings

are all so

dismembered

cheque for

book review

payment for

setting question paper

cash for

radio jockeying

compensation for

teaching

adjunct in one

visiting in another

week-end somewhere else

a fifteen year old company

wants help

re-writing its vision

a new idea

needs help in

building biz around it

learning music

reading

so much on my platter

seemingly unconnected

yet i derive

untold value

from every one of them

diversity has become

the defining factor of

my life