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Note# 2: The Library Thing

I remember how my school librarians used to tell that they were sitting outside in the sun during winters and I should notify upon leaving. They used to have fond of me, the solitary being, who loved to read. The fault obviously was in the books. The whole encyclopedic section, I can remember even today, mesmerized me with beautiful pictures and assorted information. When I look back, I find the forming years are very surreal. It is like Bohr’s atomic model where everything is certain and bounded in law and logic. As life grew on, I realized the critical appreciation is necessary but the uncertainty principle resulted in choosing books of more specific and valid interest, languages and sciences.

The practicality of universe does not bother me and when I think of Paulo’s remark from “The Alchemist”, “When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it”, it makes me laugh. This fictional work is perhaps my favorite among all authors but I happen not to relate fiction with life. So, when I found that library employees take the reader for granted, it is hard to digest it. We cannot observe the society with rose-tinted spectacles, we need to bring out the shades of grey that slowly start to affect us so grossly that we fall out of our line.

Last visit to T.S. Central State Library, Sector-17, Chandigarh has not been good for me. As I left the place, a librarian I knew for long called me to point out that my previous membership card was with her. I showed her my new one. She took it from me and appeared innocent while asking if I had got made new one.

I can clearly remember the directions from circulation section when I reported my missing card few months back, to go to reference section and check with the office. I surely did and from the same card holder today, she took out my old card which she did not in past. While holding my new earlier, I showed no fury and obliged that I might destroy it myself. I can hear her audible voice when she took it from me and told me that she can also do so and then started tempering it.

I felt sad for myself for not reported it to the main office. This is certainly far from any model and I was targeted of malevolence. Though I can forgive for small errs but being victimized is certainly not welcoming.

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Echoes, my new poetry book

Echoes published by Write India is recently released in September.  It has been an amazing experience to through them once again and truly as desired they echo through mind and soul.

Here is blurb at back of book:

Consistency where life frames women in different roles and you feel inhabited.

In such serenity I sit and think saturated with thoughts.  A woman speaking of in her element perennially devises how way further will be for her without the barriers of struggle.  Nature is succour.  One easily connects with primal action born of thought. As innate as vital energy of mind and body, the poems here touch aspects of womanhood subliminally.

It would not be in woods or meadows far reaching only through echoes, it would beat deep inside throbbing and touching through aspects of life.



A Poem from Echoes:

Cold winds with those dark clouds
on my sky are my aspirations
where horizon of blue sublime,
tiny corpuscles of lime,
from where I have sprung and this haste
do I even know the melody…

Again the Sky

First published on Literary journal.

Today showered again the sky I wondered if soaking the streets I choose to ignore.
Small leaves sprout and crawl inside me, branches spread out, straws are collected nests are created.
Lone pathway on feet speck of air or earth so full, and my own heart's silence in this moment's time.

Moon and stars

moon again behind
the hills what
myth I build on my story


******

a star out of canvas
I am 
here with truth


*****

few stars in sky
and angles in and out 
can't locate more

******


only one more round
at moon hedge
full of jasmine