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Aug 2012 · 834
On the Beach with Solitude
Something happy within me sings
lightly like the butterfly’s wings
as it gently, s  l   o   w   l   y   sways
above
and
alone
on the beach
always out of  reach
of sadness and decay
so full of life
each grain of sand
t-h-r-o-b-bi-n-g  
even in the most
iron heart
the pulse that excites and propels
                                         rise
the masses                        and
                               ­                                                  fall                  like              
  a                   v
                                                    e
w        ­                                                              s

­like a cloud on a sunny day
joyous and
lonely
all at once
what is this i hear
the thunder or spray
the salty wafts
that envelopes
beautyandsadness
that join to create
something so wondrous
sometimes i am like the brine
blue and gray
collecting my thoughts like i
collect shells
sometimes i am like the butterfly
blissful and content
But always i am.

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
18.08.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 1.1k
Scars
When your Name
was appended to mine,
My parents said-
“It’s for your security.”
Blinded by my Veil;
I couldn’t see-
It was a false promise.

In your embrace, I wanted to thrive,
to flourish, to live.
But I was pushed aside-
A bud that died,
Not blossoming
Into a flower.

When I asked for Freedom,
you gave me Abandonment.
When I asked for a Voice
to express myself-
you gave me Screams of Anguish.
When I asked to be Loved;
you gave me Pain.

I lie here now,
A discarded rag
Without an identity.
Keeping me company
are the scars on my arms-
Scars- a gift of
your undying love for me?

- Vijayalakshmi Harish

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
This is the poem for which I won the first prize at Ananya- an intercollegiate fest hosted by Sophia’s college, Mumbai on December 16th, 2005.
All participants were shown some photographs(with captions). Participants were told to choose one of them and write a poem about it on the spot.
The picture that I chose depicted a woman in a burqa, lying on the ground with her hand spread out as if she was trying to reach out to someone. The setting was of some dilapidated area, with tall and long brick walls on both sides. The picture had the caption- “ Isolated and Anonymous, to whom can she turn?”.
On the basis of the picture and the caption given I wrote the above poem
Aug 2012 · 694
Studio
The coffee grows cold on my desk
                                                            ­ (maybe if I leave it there
                                                           ­      long enough, it will
                                                            ­               evaporate).

Brush strokes fill
my mind,
thoughts fill
the canvas
the Vision translates
itself.

                                             ­                                                                 ­                                    You bite your lips
                                                            ­                                                                 ­                            to tease me…
                                                             ­                                                                 ­                    Can red do justice
                                                         ­                                                                 ­                            to the cruelty of
                                                                ­                                                                 ­                          your words?

You stare emotionlessly
into space…
Can blue capture
the coldness in
your eyes?

                                                          ­                   You twist your curls
                                                           ­                        michieviously…
                                                  ­                               Will black signify
                                                         ­                        The darkness of
                                                              ­                       your soul?

                                                          ­                   It is my magnum opus.

- Vijayalakshmi.R.
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Inspired by the novel *The Picture of Dorian Gray*
Aug 2012 · 1.3k
Introversion
I love my Solitude-
yet You intrude upon it
like the crashing of waves
on the rocks at Bandstand

I’ve tried to hold my peace
in the palm of my hand
but it turns into dewdrops
and trickles down my fingertips

I try to rid myself of You
and other clichéd metaphors
in my life….

for when I empty myself of You
I shall become Complete
Full of light


-Vijayalakshmi Harish
25/5/06.
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 654
Exit
F A R

lie your
                                                                ­          lies



and your obstinate insistence

the world is not as i see it as others see it only as you see it

the pearls aren’t moonlike anymore
                                                         ­   

they’ve dropped
scattered on the floor
                                                         white and pale

like the death


--- Vijayalakshmi Harish
30/01/06
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 659
Dancing With The Night
The night dips its pen
in the silvery inks and starry hues
And writes a testimonial to my solitude

Slinking away within me
A song of hopeful annihilation
Matched in silent rhythm to yours


The darkness slips away
Unnoticed and quiet in its exit
It leaves me braided with the music


----Vijayalakshmi Harish
      26/01/07
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 789
The Actor
Globules of emotion
scatter
                                                                ­                     scatter
                                                         ­                                                                 ­                             scatter
                                                         ­                slipping thorough space
silvery mercurial drops
                                                           ­                    Perspectives shift
                                                           ­                   Characters change
                                                          ­                   I shed the persona.

                                                       ­                Devoid of the face-paint.
                                                     ­                             The Stage
                                                           ­                      comes alive
                                                           ­                shouts, cheers, claps
                                                           ­                                                                 ­                  and a deadly silence
that
                                                    ­                     tears through the masks
                                                           ­                                      the lights
                                                          ­                                       the actors
                                                          ­                                          and
                   ­                                                                 ­            the audience
It’s a high-
it climbs,
it falls
it takes me
against the flow
                                                            ­                                                                 ­             it’s the play of eternity

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
07/12/2006
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
The apparition stands out
in the background of a tyranny
the final remnants
in an empty existence.
Something cracks
and words tumble out
battling themselves.
A creeping dream withers
crumbles and dies.


The dragonflies flitter
they’re happy.
My mind flutters-
it lives.

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
23/11/06.
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 1.8k
Visions
Majestic old moss covered lion
standing guard over the locus of a pagan soul
and hedonistic bloodhounds ready to pounce
their muscles stretched in anticipation of  feasting

An ancient timekeeper drips eternity in pearly drops
over and above the city of omniscience…
chalky faces embedded in the century old walls
I wonder about their cloaked, clandestine lives

The lady in white lost in peaceful contemplation
demure head ensconced within her flowery crown
presiding goddess over a temple of busy-ness
devotees scurrying beneath her perennial sight

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
20/08/06
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 653
Wordless
Flying out the window
the syllables f
                     a
                     l    
                     l
I’m the another                
the body without spirit                                                           ­   the spirit without soul
the soul without salvation                                                       the salvation without eternity
                                                  the eternity without end…..


Can You imagine Me?
encompass Me within your
comprehension?
feel Me in our heartbeats?
                                                
                                                        experien­ce my abstraction
                                                     ­               its yours too
                                                         lose yourself in my myths
                                                           ­   they exist in you too
                                                             ­                                                                 ­                       Dissect yourself
                                                        ­                                                                 ­                                    and Awake
                                                           ­                                                                 ­        gather the fallen syllables.


By:
Vijayalakshmi Harish
27/09/06
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 747
Banks (of fate)
robbing the banks of fate
my pistol shoots off
getting what i want
better now than late

robbing the banks of fate
twisting the destiny
having things go my way
but it really doesn't sate

robbing the banks of fate
it seemed like fun at first
but life that is too easy
is just not that great!

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  14/08/2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 674
Untitled
Somewhere in heaven a new flower blooms
its scent wafting down to earth
becomes a rainbow in our hearts
as the misery of loss
clouds our minds and tears pour
more copious and more fiercely
than rain during the stormiest of weather
and yet some sunshine creeps in
as your happy memories seep through
gladdening us just a little
as we remember
that you are safe now
happy and pure
an angel watches over you
as you dream sweet dreams

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   13/08/2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
For my cousin Aruna - who passed away recently at the age of sweet sixteen. She will forever be missed and her memory cherished evermore!
Aug 2012 · 998
Concept
the concept of loss
is a heavy one
it weighs on the mind
and troubles the spirit

the concept of love
is a happy one
it creates new worlds
in which we co-habit

the concept of love with loss
is a crazy one
it takes my sanity
even if it lasts only for a minute
- Vijayalakshmi Harsh
   13/8/2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 737
Work
The click clack of my keyboard
competes
with that metronome called
a clock

Time has become surprisingly
fluid
and yet it remains stubbornly
stationary

Seconds, minutes, hours
and days
meekly shudder and humbly bow
sacrificed

I try to turn my life into
an excel sheet
with predetermined fixed
formulae

All plugged in the right
little boxes
with all the right
numbers.


-Vijayalakshmi Harish
  14/11/08
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Packetfuls of some morning long gone
Celebrations of some relations long lost
Appraisals of youth long withered
Dying of some laughter long forgotten
Yellowed photographs newly rediscovered.

As if after the hesitation of two decades
They’ve resurfaced out of a rusty old box
Freshly etching old patterns, repainting innocence
A revision of life… what if….what if not….
Some strange spirit of myself smiles back at me

“Is that me?” leading on to “Who am I?”
Existential discomfort set alight
The sleepless questions- twisting and turning
Memories in my head- swimming and swirling

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
     16/06/2007
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 668
Destiny
the River said
to the Sea
“Plains and Mountains
have melted beneath me,
far and long has been
my journey
but
i no longer know who i am
i think  i;m supposed
to be You “

and the Sea
welcomed the river into its openness.

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
20/02/2009
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 1.6k
Choices
Revolutions of time
and dice of fate
forcing a choice
that lies beyond the apparent

layers and layers of prejudice
and half-truths
of pretence and superstition
peel off

THIS IS WHAT I AM?
ONLY THIS?

                                                        It­s not just about the fork in the road anymore;
                                                        ­              or about the road not taken
                                                           ­                its about the only road-
                                                           ­             that remains to be chosen

Despised? No…Feared?…maybe
littered with the sacrifices of my
broken heart, my injured soul
wounded pride; and darkest fear

                                                           ­                                                                 ­              and yet I shall choose
                                                          ­                                                                 ­  choose to live with my choice
                                                          ­                                                                 ­                            to rejoice in it,
                                                             ­                                                        and try to turn it into a celebration
                                                     ­                                             for maybe- my choice is as tormented as I am.

and so that fate may stand stunned
and beaten at its own game
and time may witness our Triumph



-Vijayalakshmi Harish
08/09/09
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 817
Waiting
Night falls silently
desires tip-toe in visions
I wait evermore
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 562
Dreams
A sleepy evening
I see myself in illusions
And dream of the light

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 631
The Mystic
The mystic said:
Stop distinguishing
the real from the unreal.

Life and Death are one
and the same illusion.

Some insane instinct drives me
to sleep on a bed of nails

The blood mixes with water,
The flesh disintegrates to dust.

And all of this is
One magnificent Dream.

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 759
Morning Song
Reality drops onto my lap-
an unwanted gift from
Newspapers, Movies, Books.
But I love my dreams,
and my myths.

I prefer
to leave puzzles
Unsolved.
Some questions
are best left
Unanswered.

Not because they hurt.
They preserve my sanity
when they remain-
Unseen
Unheard
Unsaid.

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 860
Mnemonic
Wisps of a
fragile memory
swirl around me
fragrant, like petrichore.

Struggling out
like a tree out of a seed
breaking free from the clutches of time.

Not all at once
but in bits and pieces

Broken embers of
a once raging fire
searching for something
to set alight again.

Like life stirring
At the break of dawn
Shaking off the comforting night.

Like the shifting of the tide-
So gentle,
Hardly noticed.

Like a lost child
remembering a path
once forgotten.

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
16/11/2010
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 739
Mirror
I want to be a Mirror
Colourless,
Reflecting the Truth-
Invariably.
Neither Good nor Bad
Within my deep recesses
Hidden.
Showing You for
What You are,
Neither praising
Nor condemning
Light is my Life-
In darkness, I am,
Nothing.
No Pain,
No Pleasure,
Can change
The way I perceive.
Truth is my Blood,
My Nature.
In Anger You react,
Smashing me on the ground-
And I, even stronger
Look at You
Out of a Thousand Eyes-
Thousand Reflections
Of yourself.
I am a Mirror.
I am the Heart of God.

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 946
Me
Me
I am a spoof
of myself
the everythingness
stuffed in the nothingness
---till it chokes on its
own cracked breath
I’m the alpha female
the maker and the breaker
I
hang
emotionless
in
time.

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
11/09/06
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 1.8k
Masquerading in the Mirror
The face tears—splits—breaks
stained by the soul-blood
that pours out in the interrupting
time–space between two eternities

The replacement is an actor
a master of disguise
repulsive, hated, discarded, exiled
from the world of  sweetness

The scar throbs across the face
Its rudeness red

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 656
M
M
comes stalking into
                  roads of my memory
speaking HeartSpeak
lost
      in drops
                   of life
raindrops flaming
skin on skin
word on word
soul on soul
             its gone
             it was never here
but it leaves traces
             it will return
             it has never left me
is                                       was
this                                    that
the             ­                        the
ultimate                            secondary
illusion       ­                      truth


By-
Vijayalakshmi Harish
16/09/06
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 5.6k
Lady Macbeth
Familiar voices blur
and dissolve
In the cauldron of time.
Distant and Distorted
the fumes rise
and metamorphose into
Animals with Masks.
Pull them off! Rip them!
Expose their naked monstrous faces
They run for cover.
One old witch
predicts success
Another fame
And a third- fortune

I lose myself
in the past and the future;
the present- a suspended moment
That does not exist.

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 4.8k
Manners
manners make the man
and the woman too
but how are the manners made?

manners are made through education
through learning from life’s hard knocks

manners are made when we strive away
even when the going gets rough

manners are made when we choose to create
when everything is turning to dust

manners are made when we cheer the day
when we seem out of luck

manners are not about being polite
not just about etiquette

manners are about attitude
about giving the world your best!

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  10/08/2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 2.0k
A Woman of Substance
a woman of substance the magazine proclaims
and what are these "substances" may I ask?

Its her grit and determination
her will to succeed
to overcome and defend her rights
if need be
loving and nurturing are not her only duties
she can also break your heart or break your bones
messing with her is not a risk you need
she creates her own space
she finds her own niche

She may be a social butterfly, a business woman,
a sports star, a housewife or a maid indeed
but a woman of substance is one of a kind indeed
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  09/08/2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 1.3k
Verbs
In burning flowing words that ask

To love to hate to feel the ache

Of existence

I grow I fall

I seek the stars

All the time when I’m awake

I live I die I keep my vows

While promises lead me astray

I sleep I wake I stay up late

To talk my thoughts away

I watch the waves and lose myself

My mind goes all the way

I learn and I teach

I wet my feet

And danced in the rain today



-Vijayalakshmi Harish

12.06.2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 922
Assault
the assault of the words
paralyzes me
holds my mind captive

i need to express
pour out my heart
and get others to play

creating worlds and
destroying them
the words allow me
to play god
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  08/08/2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 533
Puncture
punctured egos don't last long
they fade away like the mist
of ignorance

punctured wounds hurt but they heal
like broken hearts
over time

punctured love is an unbearable pain
till we find
love again

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  07/08/2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 1.2k
Dare
i dare to dream
i dare to defy
i dare to speak
i dare to cry

i dare to live
i dare to die
i dare to face
my inner lies

i dare to fear
i dare to care
Life - after all
is a game of truth or dare

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   06/08/2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 1.9k
Secret
secret laughter
secret reason to be

when i'm with you
our hands hold a secret
that our smiles reveal

in the purple skies of my dreams
our secrets are the kites that fly

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  04/08/2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 550
Losses
Losses make me cry

They rend my heart apart
and make me want to die

But losses also make me learn
and grow and yearn

for the the wins that are surely to come
i’ll just have to wait for some more time.

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
31/07/2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 1.3k
Trap
caught in a trap
i look for an escape

it stifles me
it binds me
it does not let me speak

i'll break free though
i know its weaknesses

the trap is love
and the key to open it

is love itself
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
02/08/2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 2012 · 6.2k
Camera
The camera captures
your smile, your laughter, your posture

but it can't catch what I catch
when i'm with you
the warmth in your smile
the joy in your laughter and the comfort
that you give me when you stand with me
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
03/08/2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish

— The End —