Friday, April 10, 2015

Flower petals and its relevance....

 An Indian marriage is characterized by flower petals. The groom who is positioned at a larger than life pedestal is showered with flowers.
And so are funerals. Where the dead body is covered with flowers.
And so when corporates start using flowers to decorate their hallways and make garlands to string at their entrances one is likely to think that there is a marriage or a funeral.
But no.....
 You are flummoxed when you are informed that foreign white guests are visiting you ( read as professionals) and the whole office smells like a funeral parlor or a wedding hall.

Barbies and Kens stand with the vermillion and a flame on a stainless steel plate (where the price sticker is still not removed) and without any meaning move the plate round and round the white guest.
Two consequences:
1)The white guests consider fire to be a hazard and wonder why the hell the fire alarms are not going off?
2)They almost go squint fearing that the fire does not touch them.

Why? Why?
What is the need to pretend that we extremely smart Indian professionals have to resort to this mambo jambo to receive our white guests. Why follow an archaic system?
Hospitality industry regularly does this for it is a part of their business culture.
In all through my travels to corporates abroad I have never seen ostentatious display being used to make any one comfortable. The mantra is ' Run your business like a tight ship'
A firm handshake and a warm smile, of course with soaring numbers will do the trick.

Mercifully we have not started sprinkling our guests with the incense water.......
Its time we behave like professionals and show to the world that we are because we can!
And we need not resort to any fancy dress or medieval systems to explain our feats and fallacies.

Let us be proud of the body of work that we do .....
And show it to the world...that we CAN!!!!

 

Monday, March 16, 2015

you smoothened the creased map with your forearm,
while I blew at my tea
and watched
your finger trace the coastline
from Mercara
along the blue Arabian sea
it stopped for a moment
hesitatingly,
at Cannanore
and then traced the paddy fields
all along
to the wooden granaries in old homes,
where memories and grannies jostle by the side,



 

do you know?


The need to know

Why you want to

Fuck me

my mother

my sister

my grandmother

my aunt

every female

That I know

when you want to score a point,

Have I missed a step

In your evolution

Or is it that I have moved up

Spiralling

Propelled

By life"s motion.

The survivor.


Oh! how are you?

He asks his eyes pained

My torn lips tremble

breasts ache in pain

And eyelids droop in shame

He prods and probes

Like a  stranger

I read too much into his lines

I did not have an orgasm, I say

If that is what you want to know.

I sense heavy

Unasked questions

I am taking a metro

Getting to work, having my espresso,and my favourite croissant I have always Been a survivor .

His eyes pained and lips trembled

But he did not hold me

nor turn back

When he shut the door.

I am again alone

A soliloquy

Monotone and monochrome.

 

The rape


The violation of my body begins

when you rip my vagina apart

Without my consent

And without consulting my heart.

 

The violation of my mind begins

When you impose laws

conditions and sanction

And my freedom you ration.

 

My index finger raises

to point

My perpetrator

His penis or his hands

I do not fear.

 

I know I am the creator

And a survivor

I cannot be vanquished

Stamped or tramped

 

For I carry the seed 

And so I can end this show

Lest you forget

I have the power to reap and sow!

A woman!


Give me a shovel,

I will make a farm.

Give me a pen

I will write poetry

Give me a scalpel

I.will save lives

Give me a foot square

I will make bridges

Give me a day in court

I will serve justice

Give me a baton

I will maintain law

Give me a cradle

I will rock it

Give me a man

I will love him

Give me a life

I will live it....

Woman...

That is who I am!

Monday, October 13, 2014

I meet you!

I think I met the you in you, I said matter of factly,
How did you find me? he asked incredulously!

walked a little bit here and a little bit there, I said not definitely

and? he prodded,

read the road signs carefully, I said cautiously
Have you reached the dead end? he asked dismally

No, I replied cheerfully
he looked at me surprised

I started from the dead end, I said pompously!