Random pages, random impressions!!

  
On a routine day I get up at 6:45 am , brew my coffee,hush for a shower, pack my sandwich and my scrubs,tie my hair, line my eyes , pick my trio ,board 83A,see a long list,break for lunch,finish another half day of records,rush back to catch 411 and again my kitchen is my hot spot.

But when I do not have these monotonous days and I am home alone,all by and with my self- I have a rebel with me. A rebel who wants to do everything else than he does on a Monday,Tuesday and so on. A rebel who longs to do what the world will not reckon, what the time will not permit,what the boundaries will not allow and what he will not dare otherwise.

  
I peep out of my bedroom window,

on a morning when I am in no hush,

I hear the clouds roaring; just there,

I see the sun out and about, I see the sun blush.

I wrap my self in the duvet, I repeat ,” It is my off day!” 

He doesn’t listen to me ,He wants to break free

He is the rebel, I see..

While the blue jay sings and every leaf flutters,

He dies to fly, though he cannot and he mutters..

“I fancy to be a witness so close, I fancy to be right up there,

Singing my heart out to the beats, singing so loud ,like I care.”

He falls down, banged and bashed.

He chooses not to leave, plays the notes on the record.

He is lost in the melody, and flickers his cord.

” Let me be free, I want the world to see,  

My every move is an endless memory, my every move is what I want to be.”

He roars and soars to party with the winds,

He whirls and curls, no where to be pinned.

He is by himself and I ignore his skill,

He is the carefree, he dares to spill,

” The mountains,the glaciers, the volcanoes, and the valleys ,

They call me every now and then and I want to breathe ,

Breathe away the smog, in the lap of the Himalayas ,

Breathe away the filth by the shores of the Ganges ,

Breathe away the smut, in the canopies of the Alps ,

Breathe away the constant scramble in  the volcanoes of Sicily,

I want to rise ,flair, and wheel,

I want the freedom to my feel,

I want to be the world I desire,

I want to be the change,the fire.”

He speaks to me and I am all ears.

That is how the day passes of,

He sleeps with me in my duvet ,

And when I wake up, I am at the bus stop!!

  
Source: http://alexis-oma.deviantart.com/art/Rebel-in-Me-typography-216893978

I LIVE with this rebel in me. This is my rebel with me. We all have one ,sometimes curbed,sometimes cuddled. We all have one that sees beyond the day and the boundaries!!

 http://youtu.be/fBoga9au_bs

Reflective writing ✒️📖

Reflect upon your present blessings — of which every man has many — not on your past misfortunes, of which all men have some.- Charles Dickens.                        

I am still not driving and that makes me a parasite on Mersey (mercy😉)transport. I always carry a trio pass to travel anywhere and everywhere.It is  pretty  reasonable and gives me wide range of options. I can be on roads, on tracks and on waters too!!

  
Last Tuesday I had a lot on my plate-a B12 shot in my injured arm, a meeting ,an interview and a social affair, all in different corners of the peninsula. My only support system was in my wallet and my minutes were in my hand. I was stressed and constantly seeking from Him-the blessings. I am like that, either my hands hold a pass for travel or fold to ask for a good day. I boarded Avon services from the stop outside my house. A bus stop in easy access is one reason to choose this house and the sea is second. My first encounter was a narrow bore needle right into my deltoid. I bought my toastie on my way to the next service and walked towards the bus stop with three bags in my hands,heels in my feet, earphones in my ears and a bite of cheese and onion toastie in my mouth. I call this maddening!!

Sooner than I realised I was at the Birkenhead Bus station. It is a massive station which all the buses going via Wirral and Liverpool cross. The service is mostly spot on and besides that you have the shopping outlets around-what more a woman wants!! There was a long queue for the Chester bus. We all boarded it. I was sitting on a window seat. I could see a family sitting diagonally opposite to me. Two teenagers and their parents. One of them was angry and his mom  was calming him down all the time. When I used to get upset with my mum, I used to cry,shout throw things and tantrums. He did none of that. He was tied up in a wheel chair. He constantly expressed his rage by using his neck and masticatory muscles and the TMJ(the jaw joint) to close his lower jaw with force and produce a click. He wanted to shout. The moment the noise broke, his mum’s hand was patting him. He went on flapping his limbs and the stretch in his muscles was obvious. May be he did not want to see the Chester zoo or may be he did not like sitting on aisle side. I am not sure and he could not utter it.

We were half way through and we had an eye contact, he gave me a frown, I moved my eyes towards the window,he made that click again,I turned again to watch him,he rubbed his nose, I smiled and he grinned !! He was still making the grating sounds with a little grin,I guess he was at peace now. Soon the father pressed the stopping button and they took their kids out. He was brave and in no time  I was folding my hands and thanking Him as I knew I could not have fought it.

  I was not sorry for him but for myself.

Almost every morning I fuss about how things have not been going the way I hoped. Most nights I pray for a better day tomorrow. I guess most of us who have all the senses intact,good food to eat,a home to stay and people to take care of us do that. Perhaps cribbing is another way of living the human life. We who have the material things to brood and whine for, forget that we are blessed to have the five senses, four limbs,a heart and a brain in a pro state, all functional and cavort. Cribbing can go no less but a thought of why can relax our minds and make our souls less agog!!

I am working on the transformation since then(long way to go). Now every time I have a reason to fret, I try and find out a reason to smile:) 

  http://www.funnydam.com/picture-13368-god-blessing-pictures.html

I choose to make my destiny!!

A prompt each day
A prompt each day
I have recently started participating in the prompt  challenges and it is pleasure to read what your fellow bloggers have to say. Last week I came across the blog named ‘An excused writer’, while I was reading the blogs on the prompt quote for memory. I was inspired by a positive thought which said,”So choose to walk upon good memories that will lead to your destiny”on the link below to write my today’s post:

https://anexcusedwriter.wordpress.com/2015/06/19/memories/

  

Two roads to the  end,two hands to  shake,

two words of kindness,two thoughts to make.

I scale the more traversed of the two,

I hold that lasts and pick a few.

I dare to dream,  I dare to burn,

I choose to brawl and make no U-turn.

I am here, a part to this world,

to build a memory,to paint a twirl.

It may  be good ,it may be bad;

I opt for that appeals,discard the rest.

My hope, my faith, my tender gut,

Your truth, your candor , your lasting lust.

I can be you, I can be me,

But I choose to make my destiny!!

What’s in the NAME?

  James, Shahrukh, Johnny ,Ram,Emma ,Natasha,Sarah,Deepti….each one of us has a name. Sometimes, two best friends or two distant cousins share it.Some like theirs’ and some wonder why did they(parents) named them with it?Some take pride in what refers to them and some are so proud that they add it to their kids’ name too. Some believe it has an amazing meaning and some get confused when enquired ,”Does your name mean anything?” For some it is the brand they own and for some it makes the girlfriend they want. 

A name can do wonders and a name can do blunders!! 

I come from the second half of the world. I have these totally weird ideas, my mind questions every thing that’s normal and may be my biggest negative is I am too picky. So at the age of seven, when I thought I had some brains and those weird ideas started gurgling my little top floor, I decided to question my mum. The question was about ‘the six letters’ attached to me. The six letters that went on and will go on each paper related to my life. The six letters that the world uses to call me. The six letters my parents thought will give them the most beautiful memories to last. The six letters which I call my name and everybody else calls DEEPTI.

My query was my BFF had little sweet name but why was I called DEEPTI😡? Of course, I had been upset to realise this and my mum had to come up with an excuse that I could gulp. She decided on a story. She took me in her arms and started,” Your brother was the first baby of the house so we named him Deepak( the lighting lamp) and then you were born so we named you after his name Deepti ( the star light) , not to forget you are the  light of our eyes.” This was pleasant to hear. I continue to mean the same to her still.

The fact that I was named after my brother’s name lingered on. When I turned ten and after being bullied at the school for my name, I learnt my brother did not like his name too. My brother marched up to dad like he was already forty and mentioned,” I think my name is far too common and it is time that I change it.” He’s five year elder to me and he was yet the lamp of the house,so his wish was granted. Soon, the neighbours called him Gautam( Lord Buddha) . 😳. Fancy it was in those days. I was still diptea.

I decided that when I will be his age , I shall fight for my rights too. I turned fifteen and walked up to mom. She was busy cooking and plating up and I requested,” Mum I am fifteen , could we change my name to Gautami( I was not asking for much after all)?” Mum overlooked and replied,” Your name is a lucky name my dear. We shan’t change it.” There I was. I knew that very moment I was just a starlight, too little and too far unlike the lamp.

Then I decided to change my name myself as I was changing schools. Already having no hopes of change on papers, I agreed with a few mates to call myself ‘DJ’. Ooh!! That was the trendiest acronyms that ever existed then. No more calling me chai or dip tea. I was having the coolest name in the class of fifty. DJ😎.  I opened my first email with address dj7880@hotmail.com, wrote my poetry in name of DJ , signed off my paintings as DJ, received phone calls-heard DJ. Phew!! I was having a name of my choice.

 I was done with school in 2001. Now the worry was how do I enter university and continue to be called DJ. It was an authorisation problem. I somehow, hated the tag I legally had. I woke on the first day of uni, brushed my teeth,practised smiling and introducing myself to my mates. The moment I had my first encounter, I said,” Hey I am a first year student, my name is DJ.” A sigh of relief and then I knew I could call myself it and this would be forever. I named myself in my own little world. 

I realised there is a lot in the name. It is not a few letters jotted to mean incredibly impressive or amazing. Your name is your self confidence,self identity, and a mirror image. It signifies what you are and what you can be. It materialises everything that is a part and parcel of you. It symbolises you.

  
I continue to stay Deepti on papers, from my birth certificate to my last job offer.And I continue to stay DJ for my BFF in St. Xaviers and for my partner.

Like SRK says,” Hi I am Rahul. Naam toh suna hi hoga.( you must have heard my name)” I proudly sign off as DJ😎,the story of my name!!

Pink frocks and apple tarts!!

  

Can’t turn clocks,

to my barbie and pink frocks,

 to the lazy starts.

Mom-made breakfast,

Crumbling pies and apple tarts.

Can’t turn time,

to what meant divine.

Nothing  to plan ,nothing to fear,

Did not know how to spell ‘tear!’

Can’t turn hours,

to times with no scars.

Dreams,hopes,sugar and spice,

Crystal clear with no disguise.

Can’t turn minutes,

to the melodious tweets.

Happiness loaded, cuckoo yet sane,

Every second alive,nothing mundane.

I sit back now on these wooden stairs,

I look forward and the lone world scares.

I look back, I see me,

munching on those tarts and pies,

dreaming madness and no insights.

Walking down with my li’l pink bag, in the pink frock ,

looking at the clock,holding my barbie..

those were my fond days ,my childhood memories!!

  
Photo:http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2064/1881174670_332cc33ae6.jpg

Once upon a time!!

This is challenging!! 33 words to sum up a story!! I am trying, I hope I justify the challenge. 

Exact 33 on once upon a time for A PROMPT EACH DAY!

She saw him in a million there,

He turned around.

Soon lost in the crowd.

He looked for her,

all there but not her.

Once upon a time ,

they walked hand in hand!!

  
“The photograph is a random click”

I SEARCH NO MORE…

  
 I see around ,

and I search no more,

It’s been never like this before.

It was dark and foggy,

rusted yet mad,

I was clueless,may be sad.

I was lost in the woods ,

tangled and twined ;

figuring my ends,

I continued to whine.

I scorched ,I burnt..

till hope filtered in,

and I realised.

It was the glory of the sun,

I basked in..

It was the Mother Earth ,

I greened in.

The hidden truth revealed,

rusted turned rustic.

The dark was no more,

mad was the hymn;

foggy floated as dew,

the tangles singled to few.

I see it now,

and I search no more.

I see it now

and I see only the pure!!