IN CENTURIES 


On rolled up world map i searched India and found in one corner crushed under the constitution of a few chair lovers..

I wanted to know  who formed the first world map and got the details of cartography..

^"Anaximander was a pre-Socratic Greek philosopher who lived in Miletus, a city of Ionia; Milet in Modern Turkey is credited with is credited with having created one of the first maps of the world, which was circular in form and showed the known lands of the world grouped around the Aegean Sea at the center. This was all surrounded by the ocean"


A Babylonian world map, known as the Imago Mundi, is commonly dated to the 6th century BCE^. The map was reconstructed by Eckhard Unger   shows Babylon on the Euphrates. surrounded by a circular landmass showing Assyria Uratu and several cities, in turn surrounded by a "bitter river", with  islands arranged around  The accompanying text mentions outer regions beyond the encircling ocean. "

I walked back from google and from cartography..

In front of me the latest  map of the world and India travels
on tarred and re-tarred pothole roads set for future in supersonic speed....
I opened Meera's Book..
World deviates somewhere from her view point..
In neatly marked sheets Meera fills her sea shells..
She writes and re-writes every day....
In tarpaulins, in make shift canopies memories and reminders fight.

In broken fragments of a soft feeling
eras turn blank 
None needs questions nor answers
but floats around as if world ends
if not reminded..
In forgotten alphabets
wisdom tried to speak
atop in pillars but failed
because it stood on shadows..

What is it all about..
It is not partially blurred.. Meera has written and I have read..
That is truth.. what she has told me is truth.. The fine line which  is broken spreading all around unpleasantness.. From the broken fragments people took one one alphabet and tossed according to their wish and finally in battlefields when the last drop of goodness is lost graphs were created on colours. Projected in a way to finish or settle or capitalize or to deceive..

In one  corner of the world map, i see India..

Meera writes... she knows what happened..
No one told her in detail but she knows..
People dislike  facts at times.... or disapprove truth seekers..Meea was discouraged on iron walls but she wrote as her conscience was strong to block even to break an iron wall..
At times life itself will turn as one statement of misunderstandings..

On the line of  full stop, a reminder; it keeps coming ahead of world search.. In my book i have not added an entry for the past 60 days..
I was fighting with reminders.. Meera was filling images.... 
I heard Meera's poetic heartbeats. I looked into my earthen reflections. I watched how Meera writes in my heartbeats softly like a monsoon raindrop....I could not hide her from my face.. our heartbeats merged in one rain drop..


Centuries ago, before the world was pictured on a map 
i thought how it could be....
how it could be.. 
I read once again about cartography..
 
"Anaximander was the first to publish a map of the world." 

"Greek is very poetic a language... Greeks are very creative.. "
Meera wrote in her Diary..... 



 

 

MEMORY OF OLIVES AND SHADOWS

Olives and Parthenon.. 
Peace, shadows and ruins..
Recollections of events..

From childhood to one outgrown image sheet i wonder why i fill  strange alphabets..
 
In my childhood i have heard of demons of darkness and my mother used to tell me that there exists a god who can protect me from dark demons..

I believed because i was too little a girl and i knew my mother wanted to protect me from fear. When i grew up i never thought dark demons can hide behind me like shadows...

I found a number of demon sized shadows behind me and when i found  them very close i screamed. Those shadows spoke different languages at times like demons hiding their identity.. I have returned their demon affected language back to them and on such occasions those demons transported me sweet philosophy with  hidden arrows..

It is true a demon hides in each human and at times the demon surpasses the human elements. I struggled but the shadow demons conspired from behind to tell me that i need to change, yes that i should not question the demon sized shadows..I have seen a lot of outdated methods of humiliation when i tried to question the shadows. I have seen such kind of low value effects in my corporate office.. General Managers rewarded promotions y to the ones who is of no threat to them.

It is difficult to converse with shadows as their faces and shades change frequently.

It is true that my curiosity to know about shadows which spoke like demons and humans ripped my peace into fragments. The more i tried to forget about shadows the more reminders i received. May be that is the way demon affected shadows silence people. 

All on a sudden i have seen the extra ordinary catalogs  turning into ordinary ones . It is true that efforts were made to make me understand in a way about the silent escapades and it is a mistake from my part that i wasn't familiar with the language of the shadows.

Intermission

Humans transformed into demons to destroy each and every fine aspects of life.. After a long battle, someone forwarded me a beautiful philosophy...

I need to forgive even when  people on the other end deserve not,  i need to forgive to safeguard my lost equilibrium, lost peace...

Reminders distract me at times and i wonder why on earth i need to get reminders from the hidden shadows.. It is not me but the shadows tried  first to speak  to me like demons ..... I tried to retaliate the hidden demons of  humans.. A mistake i know, it is difficult to converse these days  even with human beings and look at my fate of meddling with the hidden demons of humans..

Too nasty, too mean, too negative.. Oh i am the only in this world to reform because i fought with the hidden demons of humans.. Yes i should have done better things instead of fighting. Yes it is easy to advice,  may be  i would  have done many better things if you have not planted your demon sized shadows behind my heartbeats...

It is true there no need to dissect a past,  a memory of olives and shadows.. 

Life moves on.. Shades and shadows distract me but little too less than it affected me in the initial days....I know there exists a god who can understand me better than a  group of stingers who with no integrity peep into others life. Yes, domestic violence happens when you try to hound others with all your might to cause mental agony in other human beings.. Are you any better to criticize another human being???. In stolen luxuries when you try to paint your giant ego, i genuinly laugh thinking of your small mind...... 
Comedy of shades i know will continue.. It is like cancer... incurable disease...You die in that processes.. in multiple shades ransacking others life...... Achievement... may be according to your standards...

Which one to remember?? In many reminders and in many shades there exists a blank sheet.. 
Nothing to fill in that blankness because shadows have grown beyond olives...

May be, when i walk a little further i think i find my earthen origin
where i can plant  my olive tree when shadows move back in monsoon........
I need to grow... grow beyond shadows in dreams of poetic monsoon...

 
 

HOUSE  OF CONSCIENCE


Reporter Peethambar sat across the table and was very attentive..
He valued the whole topics on life. He attended this particular seminar that he wanted to know whether he is in the right place..
In truth he wasn't..... 

He has read  a lot of unpleasant news on that day..

Blast at Brazzaville arms depot killed hundreds in Congo Republic's capital. Panic spread across the Congo River which separates the former French Colony of  Congo Republic..

He remembered what he has read about Congo from Google..  
The Congo gets its name from the ancient Kingdom of Kongo . The Democratic Republic of the Congo and  and the Republic of Congo  both countries lying along the Congo river's banks, are named after it.

There  a violent tornado kills at least 38 in  Kentuky Hills..  There again a news on Interpol's  report on Information Technology Crimes....

From front pages of disasters Peethambar struggled and opened  many million inspirational quotes.. Read a few and forwarded a few and ended in this seminar to understand his struggle..

Peethambar tried to concentrate on the seminar......

There was a speech on how to be happy in life  and how to love the job one is into...

Please lift your hands... those who are really happy in your workplace.....

Peethambar thought for a while..
Should i lift a hand ...
Peethambar's inner conscience laughed..
Are you happy..... in what you are doing??
He heard the voice of his conscience
No..... Peethambar whispered.... 
Then why do you want to lift your hand....?
Peethambar held back his thoughts..... his hands he did not lift...

Peethambar is not happy in what he is doing..
CEO ordered him a couple of days ago to sledge his opponents through a language only editors and a few intelligent ones can understand..Peethambar hated that style. He needs to manufacture a story only to please the CEO with the full knowledge that it is fabricated ..

A few days ago he wrote a print sheet of humiliation as a gift to one girl who fought back the CEO with her own limited resources.. When CEO made a print sheet of insult, this girl returned him an answer through her blog.  CEO is not happy about this girl as he cannot stand anyone questioning him.. Peethambar knows very well that this CEO will haunt her until she turned silent.

Peethambar hated the way this whole processes of lifeless life, on the surface everything is well decorated on a bottle of champagne
and  a party full of known faces. Deep inside him something pricks. Once you are in  such a field you need to  get accustomed to  that kind of atmosphere, life.. Peethambar understood how his CEO  traps people and use them for story lines and columns and  most of the time without their knowledge and the girl who fights with CEO is the one who understood the  otherwise glorious cum fabricated world and the  tricks of the great onscreen actors called human beings..
Poor girl she believed many face masks as genuine ones..Her anger is understandable and Peethambar infact is happy that this girl is fighting back even when at times at the receiving end of her fire bricks for his build up  fabricated selling the conscience art works..

May be her anger is that she is been fooled or may be she does not want her life to be written in bits and pieces according to the whims and fancies of a few CEOs.. Peethambar has just finished one more sledge story of her..CEO instructed Peethambar to humiliate her and make sure that she should feel very low in case if she reads..

This CEO has created a c_talk, called her cat and many such names to demean her but she refuted his accusations with her own point to point debt clearance. Peethambar knows that CEO can only make her get bored of his out of the box outdated techniques that one day Peethambar knows she would stop and ignore this CEO completely regretting that she wasted her precious days in fighting with a silly and ignorant CEO....

While editing the next story to humiliate the girl  he thought  this out of the mind CEO is toooooo silly... 

Peethambar completed the story..... for sure he can disturb the mind of the girl atleast for a day if she browses the net to read his trademark style of humiliation. CEO says she only reads now newspapers online. She must have decided not to see the stupidity of this kind of CEO's who splash colours across their face to prove their not so worthy standard of illiteracy.
 
Peethambar told to himself in a soft voice... 
Yes these CEO's are too silly........

Are you not happy??
The moderator of the seminar asked Peethambar
Yeah, yes .. but not very happy   
What is  your problem
Oh.. Problems......
(How we sting people in line with world news, how we create stories, how we settle scores,how we praise one to insult to settle scores, how we finish off, how we plant shadows, how we cover our faces in face masks, how we create artificial revolutions, how we paint, how we create  many many such not so wonderful products).

Peethambar wanted to explain ... but his job..
He has a contract.. He cannot reveal his inner conflicts..
He silenced his conscience..
and said yes i join.....
there no problem...
Good Payment, fame, contacts, connections, influence
oh.. its... its  ok...
he lifted his hand.....
his conscience laughed at him again..
Peethambar said 
silence...
better keep silence....
He did not hear the voice of his conscience again.. 
He locked his house of conscience...
He climbed steps lifting his hands up...
    

  
    




     

YEARS AGO 

Meera opened her mail and there was a mail from Gayatri..

Meera, 
It is that i know you are annoyed of invasions.  Intruders are firing across the border. I find no reason why i need to get reminders of a past on every seconds of my life. I think it is that i am the only person to forget past for a few to create stories.

Today i thought of the past invasions of our life and i know there no point in thinking about the past disasters.. Invasions in general end up in bloodshed. 

I wrote this for you Meera that i get this anger when i think of the forgive, forget seekers  and their one sided philosophy.. When they attack another territory why they realize not and read not the same philosophy.. I need to write out again about the invaded land of my  origin which lost all the fine alphabets on provocations of invaders..Peace has lost its final alphabet on the boundary lines of control...I need to write about one more time to tell you that  Meera, it is not my fault that i had to encounter with the ones who stepped in my territory. Error, Misjudgement.... i know i hear reasons after my heartbeats are torn beyond even for me to recognize..

On my Line     


It wasn't my fault that someone decided to invade my nation..
I was in  school when it happened..
My mother  read newspapers and told me that mighty ones are ignorant and fearful always that they wish to  control  everyone around. They lose their own control while invading other nations.. 

When i grew up technology has taught me about progress. Instead of using technology to create a beautiful painting someone broke his brain to invade my nation.. Sad... he had only that much little vision.. If i had a chance i would not have done that.. My mother had taught me that i should not open and read another person's letter. But he did that and believed he is the most enlightened soul of this universe..
He was so curious to know who sent me letters, whom i meet and what i do in my house.. Too curious until he fell from the window sill he was standing to watch me without my knowledge..

My fist reaction was surprise that i never thought he could do such a job....   He has shaken a belief, a fine part of trust. Error or misjudgment?? i don't know...When i was confirmed about his role, my surprise had turned into rage..If he would have come in front of me at that time i would have given him a volcano from my heartbeats. He escaped narrowly because he did not come in front of me and i had to find a different option to confront him . I did not look around when i poured my anger in words and a few people thought that i am too arrogant to publicly thrash someone like that.. Good god.. they don't know how much mental torture he has gifted me in his face mask.. They have decided to isolate me for his fault.. Oh Great... be happy.... that i tell you in my own sarcasm.. You have done a great job...

Years moved ahead of me in seasons and i have passed my grades with good mark and a few teachers tried to give me less marks in a few subjects listening to him and i revalued my papers to prove that they were doing such things to make me feel small. 

I have passed my grades and  started writing poetry.....
The person who fell from the window sill had shares in media houses and he has instructed a few headless editorial board  not to publish any of my writings. It hurts at times and it is painful to take such a fate.. 

I have not stopped writing that i thought if i stop i deceive my own conscience.. I did not want to hurt my conscience. I knew past will overpower me to hurt in colours and comparisons.. I did not want my conscience to look too small in front of the invaders who wanted to polarise me on their own convictions..

I have decided to take shelter in technology to use it for progressive thinking.. Not to sting, not to chase but to write poetry, to protect my own conscience...

Years ago in libraries i sat
to learn about the universe
and a shadow entered
through my eastern home window 
blocking light from entering...In one error filled day
i voiced against the shadows
to end up in one battlefield
as the shadows could only
paint  a contrast image of light...

It is not winter that frozen my  beliefs 
but the shadow which conspired
 near my window sill...

Today I  read about Azerbaijan, the largest country in the Caucasus region located at the crossroads of  Europe and Asia..    World has a  lot to offer me..



Gayatri has written a story, a poem for Meera..
Shadows can only cause temporary traumas.. Le me believe in that..

How small this world can be at times..
From border lines to my window sill i know i have crossed  a broken bridge... alone..The furious river of the past has narrowed down under the bridge....

I have closed my windows but still hear the noise of the conspiring shadows when i sit near my writing table...
From my school days i have grown and now i know how shadows speak ...

   




 

ANTEDILUVIAN


In fine filters, edited half baked truths struggle to silence my Ocean. 
How can i ask a natural creation to stop talking that it is purely a Godly creation.
 
Skies have secretly told me about the conspiracies  behind the stages and in podiums i hear the loud shudder of an  unspoken future.

I think, i think that i need to silence myself that i don't want my origin, my pure essence to get lost in the line drawings of a wild  manipulative world.

Dictionaries of the world i know, i need to sit and search to             re-arrange my own destiny there i know i hear the voice of my own inner conscience.

People  gifted me untruth in beautiful wrappers...
From one line to the  dotted graph, i brought  back my heartbeats to one stage which otherwise would have lost in a battle. A battle to prove whose ego is great or in a battle to settle scores or a battle to walk away from pains and sorrows.

While traveling from one season to the other, i  know how i got transformed into two different worlds on which the one is me like my origin the one in pursuit of knowledge, the most refined form of me and the other me is totally out of shape, titled a little and  out of phase on provocations and unwanted comparisons  from score settlers and revenge seekers. I tried too hard to pull me out that second half of me from measuring scales but eventually got hurt beyond the level of my natural healers.

I tried and found that i can heal myself on natural healers.
I opened the world map  today to see the most interesting places of this world and watched the visuals...
A few caught my attention... 


Wisteria Tunnel  located at the Kawachi Fuji Gardens in Kitakyushu, Japan.


The Cinque Terre is part of the coast in the Liguria region of Italy.  
 
Penitentes the amazing ice spikes and snow formations.

Maldives, the tropical island paradise

Glass Beach, California, USA

St. Lucia, Luxurious tropical island in the Caribbean

Neuschwanstein Castle, Germany the gorgeous former castle of the king.

Chittorgarh Fort, India.The largest fort in India.

The Fjords of Norway

Longji Rice Terrace, China

Fingal’s Cave, Scotland

Unusual basalt columns formed by lava flow

Tikal, Guatemala An ancient mysterious  Mayan city

Reed Flut Cave, China 

Bagan (or Pagan), Myanmar

The mystical Thousand Pagodas Plain



 World has its own natural wonders beyond the narrowness of humans. It is that at times a world does not allow  to heal a past. When it happens i know i need to turn towards natural healers which i know is more powerful..

Things can go from bad to worse
In rectangular boxes world may shrink
Let me write for the day
and tomorrow is not my teardrop..
seasons change beyond healers;
in sandalwood fragrance 
of my eastern garden
let me heal my heartbeats
beyond past, present and future...