The swirling mist

I was nudged out of sleep all of a sudden, sensing an unearthly chill in the air. Reaching out for the window curtains, I parted them to peep out into the still darkness of pre-dawn.

On the narrow, steeply curving path that led up to our rather isolated house, there swirled a mist clad humanoid form, its dark eyes staring straight back at me. 

The hair on the nape of my neck stood up on end, as a frisson of fear ran down my spine. It seemed as though my recurring nightmare was coming alive right before my fear widened eyes.

The temperature dropped a few degrees as the apparition moved towards my home. Soon the winding wooden steps creaked as shuffling footsteps moved closer and still closer to my bedroom. 

I dived beneath the soft quilt in mortal fear, squeezing my eyes shut, and praying hard. Cold, clammy hands touched me, and I heard my roommate's voice say, "Wake up, sleepy head... we're late for school!

© Dr. Aparna Bagwe

12 November 2021

Appy ponders

We live in a world subdivided into clearly demarcated geographical regions and countries. We humans are also subdivided into subsets based on race, skin colour, religion, language, and various other man made considerations. 

Try to overcome these divides, please. Be mindful of the fact that, beyond these superficial divisions, we are all living, sentient beings of the same flesh and blood! 

We are all unique yet inherently similar creations of Mother Nature!

16-11-2021

Birds and I

On my third 'pure' birding tour, I have come to accept the fact that I'm happy being a terrace/ safari jeep birder who can sight and photograph birds that are clearly seen on open perches! 

Not for me the tiny birds flitting around in dense foliage of trees/ thickets, or birds big or small that are barely visible in the thick forest/ at a distance. 

Given my own three basic fundas: inability to trudge up/ down hill, high myopia, and poor sighting skills, I shall desist from participating in pure birding trips with pro birders in the future.

I strongly reiterate, however, that I am interested in avians and thirsty for more gyaan about them, and shall continue to photograph the birds I can see in all the environs I find myself in! So, fellow Earthlings, I shall shortly share with you photographs of the birds I saw at Thattekad and Munnar (even if you see them elsewhere)!

© Dr. Aparna Bagwe

January 2023

Peace on Earth

Living our lives as we do in the hubbub of city life, it is tough to find space to connect with our inner selves in a search for the meaning of life and inner peace. Since the past few years, I have consciously taken a step away from my usual routine to seek out an oasis of sorts, where no one knows me and I can walk around or just sit quietly admiring nature. Then as I mull over and try to quieten the conglomeration of thought storms, I work hard at turning my consciousness inwards. It is during such intervals from life that I dwell upon humankind and our place in the scheme of things. I mull over the wars we wage within - and without - senseless skirmishes over superfluous, man-made divides of religion, caste, creed, language, and even the colour of our skin. As my seeing eye watches the intricacies of nature’s creations - sometimes a spider’s web, at other times a termite mound - my mind’s eye is awestruck at how the right kind of focus has been harnessed so wonderfully by nature – so different from the senseless killings we see in the human world today. Can’t we try some kind of mass psychotherapy to move these twisted minds away from their ‘out of focus’ fights for the wrong cause, and bring peace into these minds? As the season of cheer approaches, I shall strive even harder to create a master plan for peace on Earth.

©  Dr. Aparna Bagwe

My Mother's Hand

My Mother's Hand

===============

How can I ever forget

my mother's hand...

a hand gentle to all the babies

she delivered into this world...

a hand soft as a cotton swab

that healed my painful wounds...

a hand firm as a torch bearer

leading me on the right path...

the hand of a strong lady

who educated her daughters...

the hand attached to firm shoulders

 - she taught us to face the world...

as she had done - all by herself

after her husband's untimely death...

I look forward to the day when 

I'll hold again - my mother's hand!

© Dr. Aparna Bagwe

7-11-2020

Being human

Those moments in time ...

Life is filled with moments

of togetherness and joy

of feelings and sensations...

that some of us were meant 

to experience only infinitesimally!

As we move on in life, 

those brief, happy moments

that were not meant to last

get hidden from prying eyes

to create our cache of memories!

Oftentimes, particularly in old age,

we pause to recall and relive 

those moments, those feelings...

to touch the fading tapestry 

of a life that was not meant to be!

© Dr. Aparna Bagwe

28-August-2022

Hey Cat!

Hey Cat, you look at me as though

I'm a can of food just created for you!

Don't you grin as you lick your lips

In anticipation of some bloody sips!

Hey Cat, don't we feed you enough

You forever hungry ball of fluff?

If you must eat, go find a tiny mouse

Felines are rodent hunters, you louse!

Hey Cat, Don't bite the hand that feeds you

Is a phrase created for 'you know who'!

If you plan to live upto your ninth life

At me, don't aim your fork and knife!

© Dr. Aparna Bagwe

15-August-2021

"Peek a Boo" Mini

How dare you follow me here like that?

Don't tell me you've never seen a cat?

Human go away ambling on your legs two.

This feline wise is exercising her hands too.

Shoosh now, you'd better keep very quiet

For I'm here to catch that sleeping bat!

While I enjoy the Whiskas you feed me

Nothing can beat raw blood, you see.

I need to keep my canines really sharp

Hunt I must, you go and play the harp!

Once again I ask you to please vamoose.

If you disturb my hunt, I'll cook your goose!

© Dr. Aparna Bagwe

8 February 2021

Age Advantage

Survival

As I stand before you today
Awaiting your verdict  at last
Do not judge me too harshly
Until you've heard of my past!

My childhood and adolescence
Was filled with truly innocent fun
But whatever I experienced in life
Forced me to reach for the gun!

When I was nice to everyone
To their tune they made me jive
So I learned not to be feeble
For in life I too had to survive!

Over time, I began to give back
Far worse than what I had got
Until dawned the day when
I really began to hit right out!

Life you see is for the hitters
Who make the world go round
The bowlers and the fielders
Just play till their time runs out.

The Reel of Life

Mumbai, my love ...

Mumbai, my love...

To the newbies, she is a means to get ahead in life. She provides jobs, new career options and even a new life.


To me, she is the earth mother. I was born in her lap, played in her play grounds and grew up learning about her moods, her history, geography and even civics. She was different back then. More laid back, prettier.

Today there are ants crawling all over her - she is over run by a sea of humanity all out to drain her resources. A beautiful city in her hey day, today people call her all kinds of names forgetting that she is what we have made of her, over the years.

Sometimes I dream of her resplendent in her past glory and hope to see her like that again. But I also know that is just a wild dream. Things don't change, especially once we have brutalized her so awfully.

To this earth mother,  a salute and a warm hug.

Adree...

One fine day she walked into our building compound. I don't know where she came from, this little puppy. I was off to work that morning and, as I turned the corner of the building, there she was. She spotted me from where she had been sitting near the gate, and came running at top speed to greet me, her entire body (not just her tail) wagging away to glory.

This cute pariah bitch whom I fondly named Adree (short for adrenaline.. and I hope you don't ask me why) was a hyper responder. I just had to look at her and she would get all excited and jump up at me to stare into my eyes and grin. Yes, grin! I bet she and I had been kindred souls in one of our past janams. It was I think the period just before the monsoon, maybe about ten years ago. She spent that entire rainy season in our compound. We fed her in the morning and in the evening, and left her a bowlful of water. Each day she left evidence of her greetings (muddy paw marks) on my dresses.

Then one day, she was not there. There was no evidence of an accident (our house is close to a busy thoroughfare), so we knew she was not injured/ killed. Perhaps whatever had been the purpose of our meeting, had been served? But for that brief period in time, how she enriched our lives.

Wherever you are now, Adree, I hope you are as happy as you were back then!

Writer’s block

My pen makes contact

with the surface of

the first page of the open diary

that I've purchased just today!

And then it halts,

my hand half raised

my brow deeply furrowed

my brain all scrambled ...

Hey, I'd thought up

this intricate, twisting plot,

peopled by inter-meshing characters

and such lovely, graphic imagery.

How could it all just disappear

- almost vanish into thin air -

I bemoan, as once again,

I am hit by the writer's block.

Death be not proud ...

I spoke to him, just yesterday

This young lad - smiling happily and full of life

The excitement at his move to New York City

His visage so happy and elated

His family nudging him towards a bright career!

I visited his home earlier today

The same young lad - unmoving now and lifeless

The shock at the news of his accident in the city

His body so pale and disfigured

His family bearing him to the cremation grounds!

Blood on my hands

My arsenal for creating mayhem!

Pipes, wires, nails,

money to buy that tell-tale powder,

black bags, remote control devices,

DIY manuals for putting them all together,

and fanatically committed foot soldiers.

Such glee - see I'm about to create history!

I’m watching the telly now!

Ripped open steel bogies,

blood splattered railway tracks,

bodies carried in make-shift sheet stretchers,

limbs, body parts, blood, gore,

faceless bodies, torsoless heads.

Such glee – see what all I've achieved!

I’m reading the newspapers now!

Lists of injured, body counts,

personal accounts of individual tragedies,

desperate searches in hospitals and morgues,

ecstacy at finding a leg-less husband,

agony at identifying a son's torso.

Such glee – see how I'm being GOD now!

I’m answering the telephone now!

Neighbour asks me to rush home, for

my two sons and only grandson,

who'd left for home by train yesterday,

but failed to reach there till late last night -

their corpses have been found in a morgue.

Such glee - see my blood on my hands now!

The Illusion that’s Life

Life is nothing but a series of stairs

that you climb, slow 'n easy,

thinking that at the next level

you'll surely find ...

that what you've been born for!

The endless climbing, the restless seeking

just going on and on ...

each turn bringing with it the wild hope

that you'll surely find, round the next corner,

the treasure trove you've been looking for!

Until one fine (or not so fine) day you discover

to your great shock and disappointment

that you've been climbing this long

and have reached this high

for ... just THIS?

The top of the stairwell - the empty attic,

that holds nothing you'd ever have wanted

and highlighting to you, oh so clearly, that

life is nothing but a mirage, an illusion

you've been pointlessly running after!