After 30 Springs

By Taranum

Through this work, the author has attempted to transcend the precincts of human emotions. These writings reflect sociological understanding, psychological realms and philosophical transcendence. The tapestry of reality is marked by a variety of sub-realities that unfurl as a person grows through time, as a person grows through various springs. In fact, experience is the best teacher. The author hopes that each of these writings would help the readers in navigating reality from a fresh perspective.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing India
• Release date: Mar 23, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543702194

Taranum

Taranum Bhatia was raised in Patiala (India), from where she did both her schooling and graduation. After a Masters in Sociology, she was associated with a social work project involved in setting up North India's first mother milk bank. Thereafter, she taught in a college for a brief period. She is currently based in Udaipur. This is her first book.

Book preview

Copyright © 2018 Taranum. All rights reserved.

ISBN

978-1-5437-0220-0 (sc)

978-1-5437-0219-4 (e)

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

www.partridgepublishing.com/india

03/23/2018

25928.png

Contents

Poems

Conjuring of the morning sun

The Ancient Margins

Body is a cage

The breakup

Dreams

The Dying Man

The Blue Paint

Post-truth

When the mountains were climbed

Death

My sheer folly

The Cauldron

Alice’s Strawberry Trail!

The sculpture of love

The annals of memories

Unequal love

Genesis

A Cremation

Annihilation

A beggar

Apathy of a Lonesome Star

Indelible marks on sand

Consummation

A Head or a Tail

The red rose at the cemetery

The Buddha sits in meditation

Short Stories

Divorce

Mrs. N, the grasshopper, and I

Charlie Chaplin joins circus

Man/Woman

Deranged

sunbeam-2761911.jpg

Conjuring of the morning sun

As the Sun conjures up in the morn sky

the emotions are sundry, and feelings nigh.

Far in the distance, the greens of the tombs muzzle

with the song of the Bulbuls’ melodious puzzle.

Orange coloured fans adorn the muddy path

as the pink buds try to blossom against the wind’s wrath.

Morning meditation runs along the narrow alleys

and the Sun’s rays filter through dewy valleys.

As the Sun conjures up in the morn sky

the emotions are sundry, and feelings nigh.

Crests and troughs of the water are mesmerised with myriad specimens

and the tree-lined island within the lake pays homage to fish-eating Pelicans.

Rapture of many facial portraits fills the wooden boats

which have far left the anchorage to rudder in the watery floats.

Far in the distance, the greens of the hilly terrains sing

a song of rhapsody played upon the nature’s string.

As the Sun conjures up in the morn sky

the emotions are sundry, and feelings nigh!

bell-2105157.jpg

The Ancient Margins

I was twenty-one, and

You were

Twenty-seven

Old enough?

Naive to wrap ourselves in

Quilts of destiny,

Divine providence

Streets apart, we

Tried to

Balance ourselves on

Those weak bridges of culture

Co-mingling, co-existing at

A point when

People kill each other

Over

Food differences

His beef? My pork?

Killing animals in names of

Faith

Old enough to fall in love, naive

To think of this as serendipity or

Coincidence

Our forefathers couldn’t stand each other,

They drew lines on paper

If Love can’t cross those ancient

Margins, then

Nothing can move these mountains of

Ignorance- now

A layered hatred

In my heart, your

Heart.

background-1983562.jpg

Body is a cage

The body is a cage. A menagerie

Of impulses, thoughts, reactions that

Make up the self. Yet, why is it so

That the body’s nadir is their nadir

Too? The points in the horizon lingering

At the edges of memories, biases and

Prejudices. The shelters, sands and

Smells lurking in the sites dug by the

Archaeologists. The letters, the scripts read by

The Historians in future. Whether

Scavenged or not, the fossils discovered by

The Palaeontologists were only a narrative

Of chronology. How the time elapsed? When its shelter was the amniotic fluid. And, when the shelter was the soil. A mother’s different appearances, veils?

The incapability of the body to perceive beyond the third dimension engenders many theories-

Karma, Reincarnation, Transmigration.

When the body dies, the narrative of the feelings and thoughts dies too. But when the narrative dies, the body remains.

Cruel.