Wednesday, April 10, 2013

The Resurrection; Phase 9

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I have work to do, I decided right there inside the bus. I had a journey to make, a journey inward. In my outward journey, it seemed I had forgotten quite a bit from my essence. Not just poetry, but also people. I do not know why I thought about this loss now. Perhaps, one realization brings with it a deluge of several others. I realized it was time to reconnect with poetry; and with this realization followed the awareness that I rarely talked with my friends and also with my beloved ones these days.

Worse still, I was not even communicating with my heart.

Then the remedy started pouring in from an unknown source. The percussions of a khawali and the vocals of some sufi music started vibrating inside my veins. Then words started to flow.

I-poems, once again blessed me. 

The Resurrection; Phase 8

Image Courtesy: Google

I was proud of my student, why should I not be? That was the greatest award any teacher could get, teaching students with such extraordinary gifts of perseverance, courage and creativity. Creativity is the most important of all gifts, but without the other two former ones, the latter never stand a chance.   

As per my instructions, on the next day the girl, who wrote English poems brought another poem. A conviction dawned on me about her gift. The depth she was able to achieve through words, the dimensions she was able to reach and the possibilities of journeying into the whirlpool of the soul was remarkable. It made me think and regretfully long for the art of poetry that I stashed away in the back of my mind.

This was three weeks back.

A few days went by. Then one day I was coming back home by a jam packed private bus, and they had a nice Malayalam song playing. Although, I don’t usually listen to Malayalam songs, this song stung me in my heart. “Ee Puzhayum, Sandhyakalum…” the song went on.

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