a pair of wings! thank you!

Morning sneaks in, on my son’s sleepy smile and lilting “mummaaa morning” and spreads like a fragrance around the house. And then rains bring the scent of earth and green add to that my own potpourri of cloves, lemon-grass and gardenia knick-knacks. 

It’s raw, it’s earthy and it’s delightful!

We go through the morning routine with music-system playing mixed CDs. Am creating memories for my baby and ‘am hoarding them for myself.

I have been meaning to write and write more, but I lack the discipline and I easily put off these little soul-café moments for later.

But I have them carefully pressed among the dandelions and roses in the notebook.

And every time we make another tickle and cook up another syrupy moment or even when we do a ‘melt-down-cos-mumma-doesn’t-give-me-more-chocolates’; the roses just turn and dandelions dance a bit; filling the old chest with sea mist perfume.

I smile indulgently when the downpour grows tired and all is freshly washed; and the sky goes from cerulean to coral to deep violet and finally inky blue black velvet; speckle with stardust.

Time for dinner and dance! 





Copyright © Neerja Yadav

just generally

The sun had not yet risen. The sea was indistinguishable from the sky, except that the sea was slightly creased as if a cloth had wrinkles in it...' Virginia Woolf
 
Words! Like Rowling's Dumbledore says are the real magic! 

This weekend was all about magic.

From Yates' finale to Zoya's celebration!

By the way, as a snippet review - she finally moved towards hollywoodesque-take-any-mundane-subject-it's-the-storytelling-that-matters step! A small for her, a giant one for the waste-of-precious-medium-most-of-the-times-industry! 

Magic is in the air! Air around me and my home!

"Of course, it's all in my head but that doesn't make it unreal!" :)

Copyright © Neerja Yadav

cosmic witch



I curl commas in my hair and make the apostrophe dance…




Candles and potpourri are best friends

Dreams are hung on kitsch chandeliers

And soapsuds and bubble baths are the best “me-times”

The old crinkly-yellow books have become black-holes

And the voice gets tangled in the wicker basket swings

And dew is what slipped from eyelashes…

And morning is just pre-dawn grey rain

Love me and hate me again
 
Copyright©Neerja Yadav

color me rainbow


I dreamt of rains and train stations… 
and I dreamt of warmth of an embrace… embrace that said 
“ssshhh… everything gonna be fine”; embrace that put a smiley on my heart. 

And, I dreamt that I lost you… And I wept! 

And then I woke up. You were just a dream. And, I have never known yearning so bad...



via www

I miss the stories that used to flow from me… I guess the clutter needs to be cleared before they can make way. I know, they are in my veins. And, I can feel them warming up ever so slowly but surely.

They will bleed, I know!  Maybe I need my own Lion...

"What a stupid lamb...!" 


p.s: do you still live in forgotten notes tucked in old classics?


Copyright © Neerja Yadav

his ever-present absence

Eric Hu's girl in the field
Am I just imagining the blood dripping off my fingers? 
You could just pretend that you don’t see me, my paling face, and my desperate dark eyes. 

I stare out the window at the wild landscape. 
The wind whips the trees into a frenzied dance. Shutters clap against the house.

I don’t want you to hold my hands, because then you’d know how clammy they are.

I am filled with silence. A throbbing silence that wants to scream…

On my wish-ponies you stroke my hair.

In my unicorn-heart, you are love


Why does it always come back to you?
 
You’re standing right here looking at me. I can’t look at you. It wouldn’t be… fair?
I close my eyes. Memories come flooding, that melt my heart! But not my resolve! Silence!
Then I hear you leave. Was this the last time?

I can only watch your retreating back through the window’s rain-soaked glass. Through the glass you look blurred; I stand and gaze out the window. Half-wishing you would appear again. After a while, I turn away. Then  I notice… a piece of paper on the floor.

Empty sheet!

Copyright © Neerja Yadav