Thursday, November 12, 2009

Breaking Dawn

Absolutely new to the world of blogging.. rusty hold on my creative usage of language.. Up at 2:07 am.. wondering why shouldn't i just watch south park instead.. well.. here goes nothing...!!

Avika - Beautiful as rose, strong as Earth.
The name that justifies our baby princess. A week old, 2.5 kgs heavy little bundle of energy has changed my life from boring, dull, meaningless to a roller coaster of joy and excitement! I cannot begin to express the happiness i feel for my brother and his wife.


Trust me having a baby is really not as easy as it looks on T.V !! A sparkling clean baby is NOT delivered to you the minute the mother gives birth. We had to wait for almost 2 hours before we could actually hold the kid in our hand!!
Since then she has done everything from crying to smiling, peeing to pooping in her daddy's hands, farting and burping and a LOT of sleeping and feeding!!

Hours of looking at her is not enough. Its funny how we manage to look at babies give out adorable expressions without getting tired. (*sigh* how I wish someone observes every expression I make while sleeping and goes "Awwww..!!" *sigh*). New borns hold a strong resemblance to old grannies don't you think? Toothless smiles, wrinkled skin, excessive sleep, require endless attention... Its amazing how life comes a full circle.. and at the end of it we still wonder.. what are we doing here?!

It's 2:28.. i m super sleepy so m gonna end it here with a little poem i had written earlier:

Puppets

Dark, wet and a spongy layer,
Wraps me up with a safety gear.

A radiant light enters my shell,

I hear a woman yell!

This is the world, this is the norm,
Thousands of questions in my mind roam.

These are your hands and these are your feet,
With the society you ought to be sweet.

But what is the society?

And why are there rules?

What is this life?

And why are we treated like mules?

Why should I go to school mother?

Why should I mimic another’s dream?
Why can’t I discover for myself

The basic motive of my being?

We are all the puppets of God my dear,

We must adhere to our form.

We are continually prodded by sin and fear,

Inherently we must resign to this norm.

Society and people dictate my life,

At 25 I Must become a wife.

I’m ripped of my basic attire,

At 60 I Must retire.

Now I face the withered being in the mirror,

Suddenly there is a burst of terror,

I shiver as my muscles tense,

Deceit is what I strongly sense.

I am successful,

This is my name,

This is my body,

This is my frame.

But if this is my body,

What is my soul?

Who am I,

After all?

How did I enter the dark wet shell?

Who played this trick so well?

My torso will wither once I die,

But where will “I” go I fail to defy.

Why did I do all that I did?

Why was there good & bad deed?

Why did I follow the rule?

Why was I such a big fool?

But alas, I had to fulfill my deed,

Whether good or bad I was made to do what I did.

I Had to follow THEIR rule,

Or I would have been ‘their’ fool.



Until next time. good night!!


1 comment:

Anonymous said...

nice poem.....
i liked it :D