Tree

“My greens turn yellow

As some of my family

We fall and get carried away

somewhere in the garden

We are there…”

Tenacious little petiole

Held together, what once

Was a charming leaf

That fell off into my arm

The same afternoon, I chose to sit under its tree

Reminiscing one particular day from childhood

Where I fell down with a cup of ice cream

And my father called it my tree.

Copyright© 2018 Deeya Nayar-Nambiar

 

 

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Paper Boat

boat

The day I fly,

I fly the wind,

I wind the way and

I way the life –

The life of adventure;

Adventure momentary –

Momentary pleasure;

Pleasure in knowing

In knowing my body and soul.

The blank paper that I am

Chose to rewrite destiny

Flying the moment the wind touched

Exploring the way and sailed

My white, pure to life.

What do I say?

I say not to recall yet,

I recall the destined,

Destined to sail as a boat,

The day I chose to fly….

Copyright© 2015 Deeya Nayar-Nambiar

Once

A regression model;

A collection of soft toys decorated the room.

Before my enquirer mind

Could manage to lay claim on speech,

She smiled innocently;

“I never had these once.”

Copyright © 2016, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar

Indispensable

My God told me once,

In the silence of my mind and calmness of heart

That, I’m unique and Society pretend not to understand.

I cried; He said laugh, and I laughed my way to life.

Then I looked around, wise and aware,

With a silent mind and calm heart;

Each one of us cried, and laughed;

Their way to indispensable life.

Copyright © 2018, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar

 

Anniversary

ring

Thirteenth Wedding Anniversary. “How has been your journey so far?” Asked a well-wisher.

The question took me directly to the day we were married. No! It took me to the day we first met. A typical arranged marriage set up in a traditional family household. A check on horoscope and family background was the only research taken up by the members of the family. Date was fixed for a formal meeting. One country but two different states.

The boy’s flight was delayed. He was to reach around lunch time. The assorted memory  of mother rushing through the kitchen, planning a lunch for a total stranger and his family; and the repeated commanding tone to “tidy up your hair and face” echoing  in the hallway is etched forever .

Short hair, what could be done was a bigger issue. The boy’s rejection may be just on those grounds “you see”. “Oh. Please smile. It enhances your features.”  “Chose a lighter colour, it will improve your complexion.” To quote and unquote some concerned family members.

The bell rang. One last minute scrutiny on my surrounding and me. Father opened the door. Brother stood next to him and nodded; the code between brother and sister, a reply to “He should be a few inches taller than me.”

I stood behind, watching.Our eyes met over the many heads.

Fifteen minutes of get-to-know family business and 10-minutes of boy meets girl separately.  He began to speak. “I want you to know….” There, he listed his vices first, including his workaholic nature. I chose the same order to introduce myself. He laughed and I fixed a smile. No typical questions and trained answers. Expectation none. Demands none. “Just be yourself.”

Waiting for their response was the longest.  “They’ve to reach home, speak to their people and then they will call.” My father told my grandparents.

The phone rang….  The senior family members began to congratulate each other.  Their delighted eyes turned to me. “Tell us about the meeting. What did he ask you? How did you behave?” “I was being myself. There were no conventional, regular questions.” I left them wondering.

Yes. That’s the answer. “Journey has been the same so far. Nothing has changed post marriage. We’re, what we would say, “just being ourselves.”

As for conditions apply, love, respect and understanding just followed the course.”

Copyright © 2018, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar

 

Colourless

Neutral

I float in a sea of space,

Colourless, odourless bay;

Who are you and who am I

Nurtures neutral shades;

Truth is called naked

Where nomads live fearlessly.

I hear my beating heart murmur syllables,

Mind awakens to present;

Meditative stage detours,

Reality a sea of constant mirage.

Copyright © 2017, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar

…did we…

My words, your words

Same thought, same situation

I lived with time, you chased all the time

Here we are older and beautiful

What did we want any way?

The words resonated….

Copyright © 2018, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar