Life On An Island

 

Cruising along the streets of island

I take in the flavors of its busy life.

Cars move along the roundabouts continuously

The smooth circular motion becomes violent and noisy with some car moving at fast speed.

The small Island is so busy and packed with human cargo

The rush of traffic, the haste of human life,

The sound of construction vehicles,

The laborers working under fierce sun with their heads covered

It is mind boggling and exhaustive to be part of it.

To detach my self I take my eyes away to look at the calm blue waters of gulf

It is all around the island tranquil and peaceful

Never bothered by human activity going around its shore.

Away from the busy world life is quiet with in the walls of my house.

Not that it is a solace to be alone for a length of time.

Peaceful moments last only for few days or few hours.

The rest less mind starts to wander again.

I roam around the house mumbling the old Gazal

Lagtaa nahi hai dil mera Ujerey Dayar mein

Meaning “my heart is not content in this desolate place”

Or “Urr gaye pannchi reh gai Dalli”

Meaning “ birds flew away leaving the branch of the tree.”

The tree bears every thing ever so quietly

Providing its shade to travelers.

Some time I wish we could be like trees

Existing but not demanding or inquiring for a reason.

All the reasons for existence one by one become obsolete till we find no more

Dual voices of mind quarreling with in defy every logic and reasoning

And eventually fall in deep silence leaving me even more alone and restless.

As I sit in solitude some thing strange happens

A tiny bird flies from the lamppost

A cat comes from behind the fern pot where it was resting away from sun’s heat

Sky-high date trees behind the compound wall sway in gentle desert wind.

Hot and dusty evening gives way to cooler night.

The harsh sound of traffic dies down

The full moon rises just above the neighbor’s roof.

Here it looks so much closer to earth then I have seen anywhere else.

Little stars send their silver beams upon my face

“Scottie beam me up” I smile and answer the call of stars.

All my agitations recoil and drain in tranquil desert atmosphere

 And leave me to live and rejoice the moment as it is.

From my Bahrain diary

 

A Walk In The Garden

Jungle Jalebi

Under the bright sunshine of early summer

I walk around the villa, my new home of few weeks in the Kingdom of Bahrain.

The brick pathway was hot and shimmering

Burning my feet through slippers in a preview of bacon fries days of summer.

The wild flowers and ever greens around compound villas

Softened the blow of heat and domesticated the desert in the front garden.

I watched the lavender bushes with their mauve-blue spikes

And breathed their delicious mint fragrance fanned in the air through palm leaves.

Curls of red berries on a native tree looked like copper rings blazing in fire.

All of a sudden the mind had raced to the open lands of my native country

Projecting some little images playing underneath the tree.

Their coppery faces with dusty berries clenched in their sweaty hands
Burning and crackling with laughter.

I stood there melting with nostalgia and hot sun.

In some ways Bahrain had brought me closer to my roots

The climate, the people, the food and the culture

Every thing was conducive to absorbing the shock of moving to a foreign land.

Once again in trying to understand my identity I felt like growing constantly

Ready to embrace the whole world as my own

And being a tiny part or it where ever I go.

I walked a little more trying to recall 

The name of the berry still locked in the paradise of childhood.

Finally my anguish from memory loss was relieved

When my husband, provoked by his own sweet memories

Uttered the word Jungle jalebi.

                               ********************

Cactus flower

The little garden adventure came to a halt

With a look at the cactus plant and its bright yellow flower

Blooming on the top ridge of a thick wide stem.

Its green leaf like sharp erect fang of a Cobra with flamed eyes

From archaic tale of India, guarding a gem over its hood.

Under the glaring rays of desert sun

The garden was illuminating with its lustrous beauty.

The cactus flower blooming and fading in one short day

Leaves a memory behind

That lingers for a long time.

The little flower a sober reminder of rise and fall of life

Or the affirmation of its continuity

As another bloom takes place right beside the faded one.

The colors of life never cease to amaze me.

Some have it for years

And some perish in a short day.

Amid the harsh, ardent spikes of sorrow

There blooms a flower of joy

And under the dense comforting shade of happiness

Hidden some where is the moss of suffering. 

            *****************

 I am still alien to this desert land

But the cactus flower has clicked to become a part of me.

Intrigued with its beauty I searched the web to find

Many more vibrant shades of bright pink, violet, orange and even white

I can only imagine the wild desert of scanty vegetation

Decorated with these little colorful gems of nature

An emancipation from the bondage of confined city living.

But for now I am just as happy to see the bloom of one cactus flower in my garden.

After all one has to feel the essence of ocean

In a drop of water held in one’s palm.   

(From my Bahrain diary)