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Author Archives: dreamingthruthetwilight

About dreamingthruthetwilight

A fifty plus year old female who loves life in all its nuances, who loves people of all shades, who has a weakness for the well written word and a subtle strain of music, who loves to travel, who is fascinated by nature and who abhors religion in its divisive manifestations

The Winnowing Waves


Hello friends,

Glad to inform you all that the e-book version of my book is now available on Amazon Kindle, Kobo, Google Play and iBook

The print version is available on Notionpress (the Publishers) , Amazon.in, Flipkart and Amazon.com

I will be delighted if you would read the book and give me a feedback.

Believe me when I say that those who have read it have found it quite interesting.

Thank you all.

 
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Posted by on March 15, 2020 in Books

 

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Dreamlocked


Don’t let them split your spirit
Put a bolt across your smile
Lock out the light from your eyes
Make you a poster on their stile.

Break free, breathe , sing full throated
You alone , your keeper be
Stitch together piece by piece
The raiment of your destiny.

No, it will not come on a platter
Served with dignity
So what, there by your own chosen path
Is a banquet of berries.

Your smile is yours , your light is yours
Your warmth, your nurturing arms
You’re fragrantly rich, don’t you see ?
You don’t need no alms

Picture credits; Abru Manoj. He called it “Dreamlocked”

 
 

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All in a day’s work -1


 

One of those countless times when I had got busy with something else, while cooking something in a pressure cooker….the safety valve had melted.

I have been meaning to take the lid to the nearby shop to get a new valve fixed …but you know how it is.

Then this guy came along with all the paraphernalia for repairing gas stoves and cookers,accomodated on his rickety cycle.

The lid got fixed .

The burners of the stove, which too I had been meaning to get replaced as they had developed cracks, got replaced.

Took a nice sum from me on the claim that it was brass.

I did have an inkling that he was making that up even as he asked me to weigh them in my hand and emphasising how much more heavier they were compared to the discarded ones made from iron .

The valve too, he charged twice as much .I know that for sure because I had paid for an earlier replacement from the shop in the neighbourhood.

The paint came off after the first flames made the metal glow with heat .

And I fumed for a while at being knowingly taken in.

And then I thought of him, doing the rounds the whole day.

And I thought of all the merry rides we consumers are taken on by the fancy outlets and the corporate brands

And I forgave myself.

#allinadayswork

 

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My Dog..poem about lost dog by Emily Lewis


My Dog
by Emily Lewis
Have you seen a little dog,
Anywhere about?
A raggy dog, a shaggy dog
who is always looking out
for some fresh mischief
which he thinks he ought to do,
He’s very likely, at this minute,
biting someone’s shoe.

If you see that little dog,
his tail up in the air,
A whirly tail, a curly tail,
a dog who does not care
For any other dog he meets,
not even for himself,
Then hide your mats
and put your meat upon the shelf.

If you see that little dog,
barking at the cars,
A raggy dog, a shaggy dog,
with eyes like twinkling stars,
Just let me know
for though he’s bad as bad can be,
I wouldn’t change that dog
for all the treasures of the sea!

This is the poem , most of my seniors in school remember me by.

Many, many years later, a teacher from senior school, Ms. Bhagirathy, who was an aunt of one of our neighbours in Noida, came to stay with the nephew and his wife for a while. Walking past our house, she would look at me with a curious air , if she happened to spot me around.

I would exchange half a smile too, as she did look familiar.

The one day, she stopped in her tracks and said, “My dog?”

Let me tell you that this was some thirty years later.

I can just say that may be I had loved that imaginary dog very, very much and may be I had had a way of pouring my heart out , while reciting that poem 🙂 🙂

That poem had also got me my first ever trophy.

My father was very happy at my achievement and wanted to frame the moment. So, back from school, even before I had changed into my normal clothes , we set out to the “Vaman Studio” , which was where the entire town landed up for getting photos clicked and then framed for posterity.

My younger brother threw a tantrum , saying he wanted to come along and jumped into the auto , just as he was , in the midst of his barefooted running around.

Not just that, he insisted that he get into the vision of the camera lens.

To strike a balanced pose, the studio owner took out a rose from the vase on his table and asked him to hold it in his hand.

So now we have this photo in my album , to fish out when the family is in the rewind mode 🙂

 
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Posted by on February 24, 2020 in childhood, Personal, Poetry

 

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We didn’t start the fire


Don’t look so scared my dear friend
Yes I know the forest is on fire
I’ve flown above the burning trees
The flames are reaching higher and higher
Whole families have died or have fled
Your kind and mine and many others
Where its dry it’s flaming orange with no respite
In the surrounding green , the smoke smothers.

But I know that if you go along this way
As fast as your agile legs can run
You can get to the place where its safe
But rest not till the day is done.
There , when you reach the river’s edge
You’ll find others in the cool glades
The crowd is surging in that verdant space
There is togetherness and the comfort of shades.

Here, where they’ve planted strange new trees
That are fast to grow , with money to make
It’s as likely to burn up furious and fast
Leaving a parched land in its wake.
In yonder part of this forest, where I’ll guide you with care
This land is as it always was
With trees and creepers, weeds and flowers
Cool and fragrant and with dew on the grass.

So come along, let’s waste no time
Let’s hurry before the fire gets here
With its lashing, devouring , fiery tongue
And looming presence, stoking fear.
We’ll dance together in that circle of love
You’ll scamper around and I’ll spread my wings
We’ll all stay together and find our space
Listening to the breeze as through the trees

Picture credit: Dr. Vivek Banerjee , my Facebook friend

 
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Posted by on February 18, 2020 in Community, Love, Photography, Poetry

 

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A new day


The sun filters in
Through the open door
There’s brightness now
Where it was dark before.

The eaves grow warm
Under the palm thatch
The courtyard beckons
From its sunlit patch.

 
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Posted by on February 13, 2020 in Poetry

 

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Greece diary- Athens


First let me say, it’s great being back home in familiar spaces, familiar smells and familiar onslaughts on the taste-buds.
But I also have to add that travelling also helps forming a wholesome perspective and underlines the importance of hanging on to what is worthy of continuity , of giving a due place to the memories of our past and its heritage as at the same time, appreciating the dynamics of change.

The city of Athens is all of that, unfolding before the curious traveller to the once so ancient and now modern city, steeped in fables of pagan worship , which got absorbed somewhere within the new religion of orthodox Christianity which the majority (around 97%) of the populace are now part of . Catholics are around 1% and just a miniscule belong to other religions. Religion, however did not come across as a public affair.

When one had been studying about the Mediterranean type of climate in school, for some reason, the imagination had cooked up pictures of orchards of different fruits dotting the landscape and greenery all around. Greece would be like that , one had thought. May be it is like that in other parts of that country. But Athens wasn’t. The hills that we spied as the plane descended were pretty barren and rocky .

Many areas along the route that took us to the hotel that we were to check into, looked familiar, much like Karol Bagh in Delhi or Commercial Street in Bangalore would be .

But what struck us almost immediately was the friendliness of the people . The driver of the pick up vehicle gave us a warm welcome , assuring us that we would enjoy the city tour and the visit to the Accropolis the next day. He was proud of the fact that it was in Greece that democracy was born and how power came to be vested in the people. He was a little sceptical though, about how it was being played out in the present times.

“It is all about money now. You have money, you have power”
Now that there , was very familiar ground. “And family is important for us”…Yep as we saw in the “The Big Greek Wedding”, familiar too for us Indians.

“Yes…and the woman is boss”, he chuckled “The wife and the mother…very important…the man…he just goes out and works”…Try listening to those words in the Greek accent , rolling the “r”s 🙂

The young man at the reception was equally warm and welcoming. After we had settled in, we took his help to find a small eating place nearby before settling in for the night. We tried out the salad, which was quite ordinary , and chicken gyros which was good. We would be experimenting more on that front in the following days.
We had to skip breakfast at the hotel because the coach that would take us around along with several others to be picked up from various other hotels nearby, was to arrive early in the morning. He left instructions however for having breakfast boxes ready at the counter before we left.

Of the morning, I’m going to give you a virtual tour through the videos I had taken , most of them while sitting in the bus. But you will then be able to see and hear from our guide directly.

Angela was a treasure trove of stories about the ancient past of Greece. She has been in this job for 38 years. She had started working as a guide when she was just sixteen or so and continued doing so even after she went on to college, during the Summer holidays. Then she took up a teaching job in a college for about five years but went back to working as a full time guide, as she found that more flexible and conducive to bringing up her children. Angela must She has been working thus for 38 years now. She has been to India on two or three occasions, Delhi, Rajasthan and Gujarat.

“We share a lot in common , you know…worship of the forces of Nature , our connection to mother earth and so on ..”
I’ll load all the videos by and by , in the order the tour progressed.

These videos are of our morning drive through Athens beginning with the stadium where the first Olympics was held and ending at the Acropolis Museum and then walking up to the Acropolis itself.
Photography is allowed in only certain parts of the museum which now lodges most of the artefacts unearthed below the Acropolis.
At the Acropolis there was a very huge crowd, and this was almost the end of the season. Couldn’t imagine how it would be like during the peak of the tourist months.

It was hot and we were herded along, almost.
But it was an experience, standing there at the top of the hill, looking down at the city that had spread out gradually all around. Once, long, long ago when Athens had just come to be established, the populace would have scuttled to the safety behind the walls of the fortress that then stood invincible, as soon as enemy vessels were spotted approaching across the blue Aegean Sea.

It would have been kind of spooky had the dusk been settling around, the tall columns casting shadows and you were alone there.
But this was midday , in the midst of teeming hundreds , literally jostling for space .

Still, it was an experience.





 
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Posted by on October 23, 2019 in Uncategorized

 
 
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