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~~            c            l
           y                        a 
         c                          c  
                l              i
                         
        
storms in my teacup
one every day
something  to fuss over
just for this instant, just to forget
a chain-clanging ghost that lives
in the haunted mansion in my chest
                                                           ­                                           to dilute the hurt
                                                            ­                                       so I can get drunk on it
                                                              ­                                    sacrifice my consciousness
                                                   ­                                              on the altar of emotionality            

                         and then wake up suddenly one morning
                                to realize that this is silly
                                       to weep over illusions
                                                  that i’ve kept myself deluded

there aren’t any storms anymore
just me
and
you
and
happiness

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   25.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Love                              is                  not        ­        so                 complicated
Is                                  your             heart          singing              sonnets?
Not                 ­            heart           rending        but                     happy
So                              singing            but     ­        also                    dancing
Complicated         sonnets?       happy        dancing            celebrating!

Hate               ­         is                actually         very                simple-
Is                              a    ­              heart           songless           dying
Actually              heart           worth          feeling,             pitiful
Very                    songless       feeling,          sad                  living
Simple-            ­   dying           pitiful           living          depressing!

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
i feel tired and spent
just like a fangless serpent
wanting to attack
thwarted by its own frailty
a mind full of thoughts to convey
spirit disobeys

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   24.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
I asked my inner writer,
Is your prose poetic?
Or your poetry prosaic?
And my inner writer asked me,
Are you traditional with modern values?
Or are you modern with traditional values?
Are you an introvert who loves to express?
Or an extravert who loves silences?
Are you an optimist who sees the clouds?
Or a pessimist who sees rainbows?
Are you thoughtful with some light-hearted ways?
Or humourous with some sober ways?
And on and on and on and on
And on and on it went.
I'll never ask my inner writer
About writing
Again.
-Vijayalakshmi Harish
24.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
The original poem : http://allpoetry.com/poem/8538761-Zebra_Question-by-Shel_Silverstein
Destiny’s games are stranger than
most games invented by man
and Draupadi’s swayamvara is for sure
amongst the strangest tales ever told

A truly blazing beauty is she,
a princess like no other
a rare fiery spirit has she
This daughter of Agni

The drums announce the happy news
today she shall choose
from amongst this gathering of kings
the one who she shall espouse

a prophecy has already foretold
that she is to be Arjuna’s bride
the swayamvara is but a test to tempt
that expert archer out from where he hides

every king from every land
is here to attempt
to win her hand
but no sign of the one she wants

but the contest has been announced
and hence must be begun
a test truly fit to try
the Gods themselves

on the ceiling
a revolving platform
on the platform
a jewel studded fish

on the floor a vat of oil
lying beside a great bow and shafts
the fish is mirrored
in the oil

the the target lies
in the fish’s ruby red eye
but a challenge fit for kings
cannot be so trouble-free!

The eye, itself, must not be looked upon
its reflection in the oil is the map to strike
not an easy feat to accomplish
only the best dare try this

for the failures
there is ridicule and humiliation
for the winner
this beautiful handmaiden

every eye that sees
looks on amazed
at her -a rare jewel
with some secret fire set ablaze

her eyes hot embers
her hair wisps of flame
Krishnaa-the dark skinned
like the fiery coal that is by ashes hid

in every heart she rouses
an uncontrollable passion
stunned, they stand as statues
incapable of any action

the desire to win her
is a great motivator
and while all try
none seems worthy

every king that rises
falls unable to bear
the weight of the bow
let alone string and employ it!

then rises Karna
truly a great archer
surely he will win her
says everyone in their mind

but before he even touches
the bow he is stopped
by the beautiful Draupadi
he is humiliated

“who is this false king
who dares to assume that
the high-born Draupadi will condescend
to marry a low-born sutaputra?”


silenced and insulted
Karna resumes his seat
but a desire for retribution
is in his mind-a tiny seed

the one who rises next
is clothed as a Brahmin
but his proud gait and muscled arms
are that of a Kshatriya

respectfully he picks up the bow
strings it with love
with arms upraised and face turned below
he launches the arrow

it strikes the eye
which falls to the ground
the Brahmin has won!
he is garlanded by Draupadi

their eyes meet
in silent acceptance of
their magnetic attraction
a scorching passion

a stunned silence in the hall
and then hell breaks loose
kings rant and princes protest
how can a princess marry a priest

they rise together
up in arms
and are routed
by the Brahmin and his brothers

with the Brahmins Draupadi goes
to their hut-a humble abode
with folded hands they stand outside
as the eldest calls, “Look mother, see what we’ve got!”

a gentle voice replies from within
“whatever be it, share it
amongst yourselves,
it equally belongs to all of you”


“Mother, what have you said
what a dilemma we are in
you-we have never disobeyed
and yet to obey would be a sin!”


The mother comes out and is aghast
at what she has done
her order once given cannot be revoked
by convention

in the midst of all this
turmoil and confusion
Krishna arrives
with his beatific smile

“Dear aunt, I am your brother’s son
your troubled brow betrays
some confusion
can this child offer you some consolation?”


“God bless you my child
I’ve heard your praise
You are wise, so advise
how this quandary can be resolved


with hasty words
i have told my sons
to share this woman
and doomed her to a life of debauchery”


“Do not worry aunt
this isn’t a problem at all
this woman in her past life
has gained a boon of five husbands


the boon was given
by Mahadeva himself
and besides a mother’s order
is always supreme


let all five of your sons
wed Draupadi
in the karmic logic
it isn’t an iniquity


Dear Draupadi listen
these men are none other
than the valourous Pandava brothers
your hand was won by Arjuna

it is your destiny
to be the spouse of all of them
and do not worry
worldly laws are not here applicable”


Hearing this was
a stealthy listener-
Draupadi’s brother
now both overjoyed and dismayed

in confusion
he approaches his father
and apprises him
of the matter

both father and son are
unsure whether to rejoice
that the Pandavas are alive
or curse their loved one’s predicament

plagued by mixed emotions
they are restless
then Vyaasa comes
to their relief

the kind sage shares his wisdom
that the marriage is inevitable
part of the Grand Plan
mortal laws must not interfere

a woman having
more than one man as spouse
isn’t always an immorality
they may fearlessly proceed

and so it is
that the marriage was celebrated
Draupadi became the
accidental polyandrist!

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
23.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Swayamvara: literally “self-marriage”. An ancient custom in which princesses chose their husband, usually through some contest.

Agni: The God of fire. Draupadi is said to have been “gifted” to King Drupada by the God of Fire.  Drupada had performed a sacrifice to Agni for a son, who would defeat Drona and a daughter, fit to be the wife of Arjuna.

Sutaputra: Son of a Charioteer.

Kshatriyas: Caste of kings and warriors.

Brahmin : The priestly class

Here I must put in a disclaimer saying that I am not a believer in the caste system, and see all people as equal! The insult against Karna is a part of the story, not my invention!

Though the title says “accidental polyandrist”, Draupadi’s  polyandry might not have been all that accidental. The legend goes that in her previous birth she had asked Lord Shiva to give her a husband who was kind and an upholder of Dharma, strong, brave and courageous, handsome and intelligent. Lord Shiva said that all these qualities can never be found together in a single man, and hence he would give her five!

This incident from the Mahabharata has been a pet peeve for feminists. The incident has been viewed as reeking of male chauvinism and subjugation of women.

I have always wondered about the silence of Draupadi here. Her character, as I understand her, is that of an assertive woman-one who would not have allowed such a thing to happen to her! In many occasions in the Mahabharata, she speaks without reserve when she sees injustice meted out. Even during her swayamvara, she was quick to chide Karna, who she presumed was unworthy of her. In such a scenario can her silence be construed as acceptance?

Others say of course that her protests were edited out. That she must have spoken against this, but she was silenced.

But why silence her only here? Why not on other occasions where she challenges “masculine” pride and chauvinism?

So many questions..no real answer! Would love if you'll could share your views.

Special thanks to Ammukutty who graciously proof-read this and made some suggestions which were taken with many thanks!
Dawn                      comes                  with            ­   a             mesmerizing         drizzle
Comes                     slowly               tiptoeing         fresh               and                   alive
With                        tiptoeing            lovely    ­         mist-           nostalgic                fire -
A                               fresh               mist-             awakening       deeper               desire
Mesmerizing               and                nostalgic          deeper            my       ­            love
Drizzle                        alive,               fire-                 desire            love               satisfied!

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
  23.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S2Cti12XBw4
The more I look around
The more I see
Distanced                                                    ­                                                                 ­                           hopes
and
                           dreams
(buried)
it breaks my heart to know and feel
the futility of recovering these
if only this and if only that
stopped them from acting on a vision
if only they had!
When i look in the mirror I’m glad
i can still look myself in the eye
proud that I took the leap
                                        not knowing if it would save me or **** me
daring to swim that stormy sea, believing I would survive
and if it were not for my belief
my desire would have remained a desire                                                           ­                                 far
from my reality
i would have joined the ranks of “itoohadadream”
i’m glad i listened to my heart and gave my mind the courage to part
with comfortable security
and jump, blinded, with only my faith to support me

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  22.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Yat Bhavam Tad Bhavati (Sanskrit) : You become what you believe.
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