Morning Symphonies

The Morning Symphony 1

On quiet mornings before the sun swallows darkness,

Up are the mynas, the koels, the pigeons and the babblers,

Singing songs of joyous greetings for the soundless riser,

The silence between the cacophony fills up the air

With expectation and hope, of sustenance and tomorrow.

I too rise with bright eager eyes and thoughtless prayer,

And He rises, with me and in me, over the blue horizon

As we rise together in unison, the world ours to embrace,

In me, his light lives to survive the darkness of  nights;

Red blackness of emotions that turn green and grey.

He sets off a vibration that resonates and amplifies,

In cells and it's electrons, and all spaces in between,

Bells and chants and fragrances, lamps that light up,

In the silent quiet morning air silence settles in silence,

Stillness and animation in each reverberation.

The Morning Symphony 2

On quiet mornings before the sun swallows darkness,

Up are the mynas, the koels, the pigeons  and the babblers,

Singing songs of joyous greetings for the soundless riser,

The silence between the cacophony fills up the air

With expectation and hope, of sustenance and tomorrow.

Blaring microphones of the church, temple and mosque,

Shatter the quiet, scatter the birds drowning their greetings,

In the cacophony of praises, pledges and pleadings, 

A reminder of sins and of hopes and desires unfulfilled,

A reminder to renew your password to the heavens.

It sets off a vibration that resonates and amplifies,

In cells and it's electrons, and all spaces in between,

Bells and chants and fragrances, lamps that light up,

In the noisy edgy morning air, unsettling anxiety pinches

Every nerve-ending animated with the reverberation.

October 2015
© Nalini Hebbar/openmind/2009 - all rights reserved

Jasmine On A String

Temples in India are a provider of employment to millions of people. The offerings, into which our prayers are woven before being presented to God, are created by people like Mallika and her two children. For them these offerings are more than your desires, they present them a livelihood. Strange how things are so connected in this world. The more we desire, the more they earn!

 

Photo Credit

Playing hopscotch were two girls

under the shade of the banyan tree.

Long hair done up in braids

that fell unto their knee

danced as they swung about

kicking stone and dust.

As Mallika rushed home

a basket full of flowers

sat lightly on her head.

“Hurry up you two, no time to waste”

She shouted out to the girls,

“So much to do before the crowd gets here”

She muttered to herself

as she hurried home.

“Shoo! Get up! Go find another place”

She screamed

at the hens, the dog and the drunken husband.

She and the girls sat down

with flowers before them

to be strung into garlands

before the temple opens.

Their fingers flew in perfect concert

two jasmines at a time

knotted with a string

till moora after moora the garland grew

pearly white jasmine garlands

that smelled like the heavens.

The temple doors are open

Coconut, camphor and betel in trays

lined up in the stalls outside.

The girls with baskets in their hands

cried out to every visitor

“Please Sir, Amma, moora for 5 rupees!”

On the trays are placed the jasmine

as offering in prayer to the Gods

Women and girls pause to pin

to their hair long stringed jasmines.

The smell of camphor, incense

and jasmine hung heavy in the air

even after the temple

closed down for the day.

Another day starts tomorrow

with more jasmines to string.  

© Nalini Hebbar/openmind/2009 - all rights reserved

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