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Monisha Jun 2021
Pitter patter raindrops gently sprinkle my windows,
Thunder rumbles again.

Sky’s are dark, darker, glooming happily,
The day meanders, hiding and seeking,
and the sky  starts  pouring its heart out .

Pale silver threads, navigating  their way down  against a backdrop of green-black trees.

It is June.
And my day of revival, birth and reckoning.
Only a day away from the solstice.

Here in leafy, caressing, sleepy Goa,
the dusk will soon begin its  slow, steady, inevitable drawing in.

In my secluded, fragrant, verdant labyrinth,
I sip coffee,
I notice the lone squirrel scurrying away to find shelter,
and listen to birds chirping, bees buzzing, the gurgle of water,
and to an insistent song in my head that just doesn’t stop playing but too spellbound  to put pen to  paper right now.

And now, as I go for a drive on this quiet, directionless, mellow afternoon,
I cannot remember the word I want to write,
I think I have no words.

The thunder is closer now.

It sounds like drumbeats , the rearranging  of celestial furniture, like our transit to this beautiful abode we call home now.
Unexpectedly a bird is singing in the midst of it all unabashedly.

I think about the past.
Not in any structured way. Just people who have come and gone, who linger, who stay and who have left their indelible fragrance around me.

For a few moments, my mind wanders down the past and I sigh at my own predictability.

The thunder is passing. Grumbling and groaning in the distant now.
Each leaf looks freshly washed, scrubbed sparkling clean and shades of green hold my gaze.
The paddy fields look abundant  and satiated.
The single bird has become a small chorus, a full roaring celebration on.

I stare at my page. I have still written nothing.

But, sweetness,
I just experienced divinity,
I feel blessed and just absorb the present.

I am the road and the paddy field,
I am the bird, the squirrel and the bee,
I am the thunder, and the rain,
I am the song and  the quiet,
In the abundance ,
I am me, what I want to be❤️
Birthday inspiration
Monisha Jun 2021
What are you?
This elusive sense of joy?
Adrenaline rush, or emotional balance,
Continuous or ever changing?
Drumbeats or ludicrous  ranging!
Goal setting and forever aspiring,
Seeking and not finding???
An illusion.

Are you a story we build,
Leaps of abstraction,
Imagination and self preservation,
The past consuming
Or the future imposing.

Happiness maybe you’re in my present
And through the choices I make
You’re in the moment to moment life I live,
And the abundant care to myself and others I give,
You’re alive through positive vibrations,
Incredible possibilities and enduring relations,
You’re in the lucid thoughts,
My breath, movement, stillness, words, and vibration.

You manifest abundantly in the many nameless simple moments I spend with myself and some souls in my life.

I look up at the sky, the stars, look down at the earth beneath my feet, the sand, the sea, feel the breeze
And thank my luck for being part of this universe.

Especially when times are blue,
I pause and find you were always inside of me.
For now and ever, I celebrate every sunrise and sunset,
And I am happy in the here and now!
Monisha Jun 2021
1.     January- Patience

Patience is difficult,
Not attainable,
Elusive,
Far away,
Doesn’t come easy,
I need it
I wait for it
Patiently.
  
2.     Feb- Uncertainty

Uncertainty is a reality
I can’t run away from it
I can’t not accept it
I can’t let it not flow in my world within and out
I can be aware of it
I can accept it
I can let it be
I can let it go…
Uncertainty is certain.
  
3.     Mar- Hope

Hope is knowing that dawn is near
Hope is knowing that winter turns into spring
Hope is that I can get up every time I fall
Hope is in moments that count and blessings that surmount
Hope is in smiles, in holding hands and in every breath
Hope is life.

4.    April- Exhaustion

Exhaustion is in my exhale
Exhaustion is in yearning for silence
Exhaustion is numbing
Exhaustion is mental, emotional, physical
Exhaustion is losing the wind beneath my wings
Exhaustion is starting all over again, yet again
Exhaustion is in giving- giving- giving without a pause
Exhaustion is need for a pause…

5.     May- Self Love

Self love is life’s elixir
It’s a tribute to my existence
Its what I owe my being
Its love that unifies and makes me love others
More fully, more authentically, more truly
Self love is in my yoga
Self love is in my evolution
And embracing it fully
Self love is indulgent and also disciplining
Its non judgmental and inspirational
Self love is what I am most loyal too.

6.     June- Anxiety

Anxiety is mirroring those closest with anxiety
And compounding it
Losing it
It’s a struggle.
Its real
It's not a happy space
It settles with a pause, with distancing
With distracting and with facing head on.
Anxiety- Real, Tangible, alive
Anxiety- needs strategies, needs to be tamed.

7.     July- Friendship

Friendship is real and authentic
It’s not in years
It’s not in agendas
It’s not in plans
It’s in  real conversations
Real sharing
Real giving
Real taking
Really the answer.
It makes us be better than we are
It lets us be the way we are
I have so many friends and each one
Has a different place on the ship.
This ship is traveling somewhere from nowhere
Friendship- Real and thriving…  

8.     August- Rest

Rest is cuddles
Rest is deep breaths
Rest is pause
Rest is a cup of coffee and my kindle
Rest is silence
I need rest…

9.     September- Vitality

Vitality is buoyant
It is springy
It is “lets do it”
It is karma
It is action
Vitality is on
Vitality flows
Vitality is excitement and energy
Vitality  is throbbing
It is  life and being alive

10.  October- Peace

Peace is alignment of mind body and soul
Peace is calm
Peace is within and around
Peace is a choice
Peace is facing problems and resolving them
Peace is active
Peace is my succour
Peace is OM.

11.  November- The future

The future is hope filled
It's what I patiently contribute to
In the present
It's my acceptance of uncertainity
Its evolving


12.  Dec - I am

I am a butterfly woman
A spirit child
Unfolding, evolving, nurturing,
Resilient, strong, capable
Magical, Sparkling and real
I am the wanderer and wonderer
I am dawn each day!

- MSD January 2021
Back to writing - 2020 was a lull but left me with loads of words.
Monisha Jun 2021
Into the sea,
the choppy waters call me.

Inviting me to run my feet through the sand,
As I walk in holding  the sun in my hands.

Leaving my worries by the shore,
Or washed into the water, till they trouble me no more.

The water warm, oh so warm,
embracing  my  sorrows like a lovers arms.

Reminding me of life’s ups and downs,
Uplifting my spirits, smoothening my frowns.

And without seeking I find my way home,
Though there was many a mile that I intended to roam.

The mellow breeze whispering  that everyone has troubles too,
That’s why the beautiful ocean is blue, oh, so blue...
- MSD June 2021
Monisha Jun 2021
I am a coffee mug,
Earthy, clayey, rotund and pouty.

I feel loved, embraced and wanted by you most times, other times I wonder.

I would rather be in your hands, kissing your lips and at least by your side in the outdoors or by the soft yellow light by your bedside where you linger with me and the brew lost in your thoughts or a beautiful book.

I live in harmony with your favourite blue wooden tray- my carriage, the small silver spoon- to stir up a storm and create music in me, and that cane worn out coaster that fits my round ample bottoms  so well.

I dream of holding magical coffee brews from lands close and far, dark.
Robust, wholesome that would make you moan in delight.

I sometimes dread that you read too much in wellness and what if you get influenced to drink less of coffee and fill me up with some detox potion, oh I worry about that so!

I am so majestic, grand and covetable and you love me so, so many options you have,
but to me is always where you go.

I stay awake humming while you sleep, in the morning I pour love into my crevices to welcome the brew just right for you.

The best thing I have done is to never give up on you but I just reciprocate what you do too💕

I sometimes carried brews so yucky for  you,
Despite your love, I feel guilty of needing constant validation from you.

My favourite time is bringing in the dawn together with you or watching the rain while you lovingly caress me watching the pitter patter of  raindrops on your windowsill.

The point of my life is to spread joy and give lovingly and empty myself for you.

I would like to be remembered as your forever favourite, giving, loving, being held till my last crack and then you make me into art to lie by your bedside  as your favourite coaster to welcome the new one
but I will be your forever one☕️
Brew-tea-ful start to your day!
Monisha Sep 2020
We met many many years back
When the realisation hit that I may need you
I met you at home and the street  but as a vision
When my mum constantly reminded me to get you home
I rebelled and didn’t want to
I met you in my tears
When someone wanted you
More than me,
I met you in disdain
When I saw many who had you
But strutted around in false pride.
And I didn’t want you.

And here you are,
Many moons later,
Wherein I rediscovered you.
It was never you, it was the picture I painted.
I am getting closer to you now
Fresh canvas,
Wispy and comforting,
Uplifting like a kite 🪁 in the sky,
You’re blooming,
You smell fresh as a 🌹.

You’re “getting lighter”,
And  to me now it is not my weight in body,
But the heaviness in my heart and mind,
That I am getting lighter with.
And as I do, I find you so comforting,
You were always my friend,
I didn’t see you
As people and my heaviness painted you as an enemy,
You’re my angel
And I know you better,
Getting closer to you,
Whispy, floating and free.
I like you lightness,
You’re me now.

You so want to come closer to me,
Constantly trying to invade  my mind,
Tentacle my  thoughts and dreams.
But hey I get you,
I am going to set you free.
Because now you’re inside of me
And my journey in the  here and now is to be.
You’re sweet and I get you,  
But sweetness is one flavour,
And I like it spicy and tangy as well,
A tad bitter, some more there,
So I’ll just set you free.

Now, I am free,
Whispy and floating,
Pink and sparkly,
Becoming me...
Monisha Feb 2020
When I was just a little girl,
And as little girls were taught then,
I played with dolls and a teaset,
Made mudcakes for food,
Wore skirts, made my hair into ponytails as I was let.
I saw the boys with the abandon which comes with free wear and play,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.

When I was older, a teen
and as teen girls were taught then,
Walk, talk, rock softly
Don’t draw too much attention
Or attempt to explore too much.
I saw the boys then with the abandon which comes with freedom to play, sit, be as they want  ,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.

When I was sixteen, oh sweet sixteen,
And as sixteen year old girls were taught then,
Don’t wear clothes that show your frame,
That’s indecent and you will be in another home and will incur alot of blame.
Don’t wander, argue, or express an opinion,
You’re a girl, being humble, quiet and gentle becomes you.
I saw the boys then with the abandon which comes with freedom of movement and speech,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.

When I was older, and passionately sought a particular career,
I was admonished as many other girls in my time,
It’s not a career for women, late nights, more men to be around,
When you get married, that’s not going to work and troubles will abound.
I saw the boys then with the abandon which comes with the  freedom of pursuing their dreams,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.

When I was married, and setting a home, working  and raising a family,
I left my work as many other girls in my time,
For my husband to follow his work path,
Unquestioningly, unflinchingly, resolutely.
I saw the men then with the abandon which comes with freedom of being in control of their lives,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.

But this is just the surface of my questioning being a girl,
When boys and men around tried their stunts on girls and women,
I questioned my existence.
When many girls and women I know,
Were told to stay mum on men close who took advantage of them
I questioned my existence.
When In the workspace,
Women got paid less than men because their salary were subtly looked at as secondary salaries,
Or needed to speak louder to be heard,
I questioned my existence.
When the onus of keeping a relationship working  was the woman’s responsibility largely,
I questioned my existence.
When a woman got hit by her spouse,
Its she who may have provoked him.
When a man strayed,
Its she who was not a good enough wife that he had to look elsewhere.
I questioned my existence.

The atrocities many men are capable of,
The filth many men spread,
****, hate, aggression, manipulation and more
Abuse, gaslighting inside closed doors,
Wearing a mask of sophistication outside
Animalistic and entitled beings to the core.

My apologies to men who are not,
And I know some,
But they are but a handful,
Too insignificant in the larger way the world works.

But then I see me,
A harbinger of change,
In my home and around.
Raising my son differently,
Advocating for change purposively,
Actioning resolutely what’s right,
Woman for women with all my might.
I see so many more women now who retain their selves and are beacons of hope,
They don’t sit around and just mope.

And I am glad I am a girl,
And I question no more,
I question no more.
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