VIDYA
SHANKAR
A Summer’s Journey
Come
April, and my trunks were packed, all set to go
on the
most exciting journey ever taken by mankind.
It was to
King’s Cross Station Platform 9 and 3⁄4 I headed first,
Where
through the barrier I ran, oh so carefully,
To avoid
suspecting Muggle eyes.
Of
course, once past it, waiting there, the Hogwarts Express
With its
red steam engine, all ready and hooting,
To take
me to a wizarding world.
A week I
spent there, and wished it could be forever,
But my
journey was just begun and I had other stops to make.
So up the
towers went I and like the Mother of Dragons,
Summoned
Drogon.
Perched I
upon its scaly back, directed the course
To
Westeros, the Khaleesi that I was, to claim to the Iron Throne.
’Twas at
Paris I stopped next, and along with Professor Langdon,
Followed
I the trail to crack the code.
Now
exhausted, I proceeded to pleasurable Italy
Wherein I
could eat, pray and love
Before
joining the Andalusain shepherd Santiago,
And with
him embark upon a search for treasure
Across
the deserts of Egypt, all the way to the Pyramids.
A sea
voyage beckoned me and with Pi
I rode
high tide and low, upon a raft
With the
mystical Richard Parker.
A
stopover at a Georgia plantation was next
Where,
with the charming Scarlett and Rhett
Struggled
for love and life.
But soon
I had to fly, for I heard the thorn bird calling,
From down
under, a song of such epic passion
And
heart-wrenching romance.
Unable to
take the pain, I found
A passage
back to India, and soon was upon
All the
roads that lead to the Ganga.
I lost
and found myself in Bombay, the maximum city,
Till my
friend Swami came a calling,
And with
him came I to Malgudi
To go on
bullock cart rides, play cricket and chase paper boats.
But soon
’twas time for me to return home,
Where
friends who heard my travel narratives
Said,
with some jealousy, I know,
That
travels I had none, only a deep dreamy sleep.
I don’t
counter them, but smile instead
For, when
the travel images flash upon my mind’s eye,
I know
for sure were not illusions, but real.
Parental Crossing
Halting
at the red, eyes glued for a green,
An
incessant honking proclaiming great emergency
alerted
me to turn. A parent with two uniform-clad
school
kids on a scooter—a frantic hand
furiously
sweeping the air before him, and a face
contorted
with the mouthing of expletives.
It took
me a second to realize ’twas
at me
they were directed.
His
crisis dawned upon me that moment:
A
conscientious parent that he was, he had to
reach his
children to school on time—
A
discipline which he strove to execute diligently.
Empathizing
with his anxiety, I wheeled my own scooter
Into a
luckily available gap so that he could
Squeeze
through the impatiently waiting commuters
And shoot
off, to fulfil his filial duty.
As I
watched him cleverly evade pedestrians
upon the
zebra and narrowly escape the crisscrossing traffic,
I knew
his children would reach school on time,
a
discipline well learnt. But, will they in life?
Lie Poetry
‘Liar,’ I
was once called.
Swore I
upon my poetry—
The
manifested words, my very breath,
From the
depths of my being—
Swore I
that I had uttered
No
untruths.
Disbelief
and scorn greeted me.
After
all, what was poetry
But a
figment of imagination?
VIDYA
SHANKAR
VIDYA
SHANKAR, a poet, writer, yoga enthusiast,
mindful mandala artist, a “book” with the Human Library, and English teacher,
is the author of two poetry books The Flautist of Brindaranyam, in
collaboration with her husband, Shankar Ramakrishnan, and The Rise of Yogamaya,
an effort to create awareness about women and mental health. She is chief
editor with Kavya-Adisakrit, an imprint of Adisakrit Publishing House, and
chief admin for the Facebook group Kavya-Adisakrit which, though not even a
year old, has done much to promote good literature. She has been on the
editorial of four anthologies, and has won several honours and recognitions,
both in India and internationally.
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