Myriad Musings

What’s the word for it?

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Have you ever felt something so fascinatingly specific that you recognize the feeling instantly when it next arrives?

You rush to find the perfect word to describe it, surely it’s at the tip of your tongue – only to realize that it doesn’t exist. At least not in this language.

I wish there were words to describe:

Gathering courage to finally feel comfortable about attempting something, way beyond your comfort zone. A wallflower’s first public speech. Adorning those dance shoes despite having two left feet.

Feeling inspired and empowered enough by another’s joyful success to put yourself out there. Taking vocal lessons after listening to the two-year-old wonder. Diving headfirst into your own passions after your friend’s foreign land fairytale.

Relief of never having to do something heavy, ever again. Phew. Remember when you ripped your board exam hall tickets apart and grinned ear-to-ear?

Celebrating the firsts. Your first blog. Your first bicycle ride after the support wheels came off. Learning the first sentence in an alien language.

Embellishing a silly detail because you fear being judged for the truth. Exaggerating your height on a dating profile or throwing in an extra couple of interests on your resume, for good measure. Wink.

Desire to dwell in the world of a book, a movie, a play; inhabit the life of a fictional character or reside in a real-life hero. I’m still waiting for my Hogwarts acceptance letter.

Being an awkward liar, all-too-obvious. Conversely, when you excuse someone’s apparent lies to protect them from embarrassment. Your sincere head-nods to children’s lies so they can save face.

Laughing till it hurts, jumping for joy or shedding real tears about an imaginary situation that never unfolded in reality.

An image that you can’t stop seeing every time you close your eyes. Every mathematical formula when you’ve been crunching numbers too long, or that terrifying frame from a horror movie that refuses to let you sleep.

Palpably awkward experiences, where you’re beseechingly looking at the ground, hoping you’d be swallowed in. Running into an old boss. Wardrobe malfunction in a grandiose gathering. Forgetting the lines to a song as you perform, right before your Lady Gaga moment.

Delight that floods when you finally fulfil a craving or a dream. Celebratorily eating ice cream at 2 a.m. Buying the instrument you’ve been diligently saving up for.

Absolute painful certainty that something is crawling on your skin. You thoroughly check and recheck every inch to assuringly find no real reason to cringe.

Clarity about a situation from ages ago, attained after learning a critical piece of information. A head-scratcher then. Now, the puzzle fits.

Jubilation when things unfold astonishingly well, surpassing your wildest dreams. A perfect score in a mind-numbing video game. The outpour of enthusiasm for your fresh ideas. The happiest guests relishing your delightful servings.
Copyright © Roshni Ramanan

(Part 1)

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Poetry

Dear water

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Wash the weight off of me,
drench my fears,
drown my inadequacies,
dampen any hatred,
sink every self-doubt,
soak my reservations,
swamp any negative intent,
submerge the bundles of pain,
flush away all falsehood,
rinse stains of my sins away.

Trickle in sweet smiles,
spray me with playfulness,
swim with abandon into my soul,
shower me with content,
bathe me in light,
rain in abundance,
flood hope into my heart,
stream joy into my being,
splash me with a dash of wonder,
immerse me in your fluid dance,
as I plunge into new adventures,
Let’s sail together, an alien cruise.

Drink to
waves of versatility
springs of satedness
puddles of patient progress
fountains of incisive intellect
creeks of creativity
brooks of buoyancy
ponds of treasured ideas
lakes of loving-kindness
rivers of resplendence
seas and oceans of serendipity.

Dear water,
With a drop of your luck,
a dribble of my hard work,
I’ll paddle through hell,
the way I wade through heaven.
Copyright © Roshni Ramanan

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Poetry

Care – Slam poetry

Dedicated to all of you, everyone who reads this and anyone who needs this:

(To be read in the form of spoken word poetry)

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This poem is about a friend
A friend that we all need
It goes by the name of Care

While liberty pushes the door open
Care knocks, and waits

While worship pretends that you’re flawless
Refuses to acknowledge
your messy habits
Care joins you for lunch
when you chew with your mouth open

While charm looks gorgeous
with full makeup, in party wear
Care looks straight out of bed
and oh-so-attractive

Faith is blind
closes its eyes when you’re snacking at midnight
though you promised to diet
Care chuckles knowing
you’ll get to your goals in the end

While passion floods, overwhelms
Care flows like a stream, soothing

While desire is urgent, Care is patient
Desire asks you for more,
like a telemarketer who won’t put the phone down
Care already has everything it needs

While intimacy is too close, too much,
but never enough,
Care knows where to draw the line.
Intimacy is that big packet of chips
that always leaves you wanting
But, Care is just the right amount of sugar
in your morning coffee

Kindness can feel like charity you don’t deserve
Care feels like the little nudge you needed
that couldn’t have come at a better time

While passion oversteps boundaries,
comes out of the blue moon,
vanishes like it never was,
Care is like that next-door neighbour
you can call on for help
but knows where to draw the line

Trust depends on you for protection
Care knows your secrets without you telling
Trust is that promotion you sweated for
Care is that bonus that comes along
the bonus you’re still not sure what you did to deserve

Admiration can put you on a false pedestal
Care keeps you humble and grounded

While sympathy gets drenched with you
In the puddle of your tears
Care knows to hold an umbrella in the rain

While pity feels like a boss on his high horse
Care can feel like the coworker you so relate to

While courtesy asks for your permission
before taking the last slice of pizza
Care sees that you haven’t eaten out in a while
knows not to ask for a bite

While affection is a playful child
that jumps for attention
Care is the mother hen

Joy can feel like riding
the high of a giant wheel
all the while knowing
that you’ll have to get down soon
Care is a tightrope walker
every time the wind blows
Care steadies itself and regains balance

While value looks at you
like a prized investment
Care is always down
to put some money in a startup

Advise is the older sibling,
who sees you broken,
assumes you need saving
Care realises that
all the holes punctured in you
lets you breathe in new experiences

Gratitude can get transactional
I owe you one, for everything you’ve done
Care doesn’t need a contract
to give you a hug on a bad day

Love fears, care is clear,
love wonders whether it should leave
but care knows it’s here to stay

Possessiveness bolts the door at night
lest you walk out after lights out
Care keeps the door ajar
knowing that you’ll choose right

Bondage is like a rope that ties
tethers you in its bind
But Care is that one knot
you pull it, you’re free

Acceptance looks behind
Hope makes plans for tomorrow
Care finds all its answers in
right here, right now

No matter your place in the world today,
as you care for yourself, day after day,
whether you’re relishing isolation
or struggling in silence,
I need you to know
About you, I care.

Copyright © Roshni Ramanan

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Myriad Musings

The writer’s dream

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I dreamed of writing something beautiful.

A perfect piece, in calligraphic writing.

With every t slashed and every i dotted, with no disheartened strikes and no irate ink blotches.

A piece that gently embraces the poetry of punctuation and the rhythm of line breaks.

Where the beginning, the middle and the end, mesh and flow with sing-song continuity.

A brand-new topic with wholesome ideas to sharpen the sword of the reader’s mind.

Where just the right amount of curiosity is evoked and the knotted clues unravel, in the style of ballet spins.

A train of thought, where every metaphor leads to the next stop.

An untraversed path, and the novelty it brings.

A piece that is the writer’s dream and the reader’s release, with its fresh breath of air.

I dreamed of writing something beautiful, and I ended up here.

Copyright © Roshni Ramanan

Writer’s note: Chasing an ideal leaves us in limbo, as the shadow of the “perfect” is a giant blockade to progress in our path. So, forget the end product. It is the enlivening journey that truly renders joy.

This post was inspired by the fact that I put a lot of pressure on myself to write a really good post because I’m posting here after so long. Then, I realised that the writeup isn’t my dream. Writing is. 

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Poetry

A lone touch: Poem

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A lone touch reaches my inaccessible place,

Says you don’t have to be alone anymore,

Caresses, stings, strokes, singes

When it pushes me away – I protest

I’d take your hot-cold touch instead of nothing – I insist

I try to hold on tight enough, but not too tight

The palm basks in the pressure at times

The fingers slither away at others

I’m tired of trying to hold on to things that don’t want to stay

Yet I’ve no choice

The touch has replaced the void in my inaccessible place

Becoming a part of me that I can’t erase

So push or pull, burn or boon

The touch has to stay, I see no other way
Copyright © Roshni Ramanan

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Poetry

Song: Poem

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Your laughter
A Beethoven’s symphony

Thunder of anger
A siren call

When your face falls
A dirge drones on

Quivers of your soul
An animal’s cry for help

Swaying footsteps
A bird’s morn song

Your melodic whistle
A soothing lullaby

Flowing stream of words
The tune to my heartbeat

Your silly mood swings
The switch between
melody and cacophony

Whatever the sound
When you are the source
It’s all music to my ears
Copyright © Roshni Ramanan

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Poetry

Universe: Poem

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The universe is in me
As much as
I’m in the universe

I stroll by the ocean
Deep blue waves of peace
Wade into my conscious

I kneel before the sun in prayer
Streaks of radiance
Shine into my being

I bask under a canopy’s warmth
Evergreen droplets of purity
Swim into my senses

I brave the mighty mountain
Rocks of resilience
Cut through my veins

I navigate the dark forest
Leaves of serenity
Creep into my soul

I look up at the vast sky before sleep
Clouds of oneness
Cuddle my skin

The universe is in me
As much as
I’m in the universe
Copyright © Roshni Ramanan

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Poetry

Grey: Poem

Sidlak#3
Sidlak: A five line poem composed of 3-5-7-9 syllables and the last line (without restrictions on syllables) indicates a colour that sums up the authors’ feelings and the spirit of the poem.

 

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The moon’s welts

reflect a beaten

broken world of hapless sins

Yet there’s hope- hints of white glint amidst

the grey globe of today

Copyright © Roshni Ramanan

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Poetry

Poetry: Poem

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When I see you
I read poetry

When I hear you
I feel poetry

When I touch you
I drink poetry

When I hold you
I inhale poetry

As we talk
we trade poetry

As we walk
we breathe poetry

As we cook
we mesh poetry

As we negotiate
we barter poetry

As we fight
we burn poetry

As we whisper
we leak poetry

As we sleep
we rest poetry

As we sway
we dance poetry

As we laugh
we sing poetry

As we cry
we rain poetry

As we kiss
we taste poetry

As we love
we write poetry

When I’m with you
I live poetry
Copyright © Roshni Ramanan

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Poetry

Spillage: Poem

I see my life spread out on the floor

the stench of unclean memories floods the space

glass edges left ajar stare at me jarringly

spiked edges of a broken past

ghostly paints splash squirming violently

walls disconcerted by eerie noises

bundles of loss are tied and neatly stacked

fear hate worry run amuck in contest

cotton balls of bad choices float away

balloons of pain fleeing from me

as I sigh heavily a breath of relief

I am nothing

I can fill the floor all over again

wiser and better choices this time

Sometimes, spillage is good

Copyright © Roshni Ramanan

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