Identity

Why do we all chase 'identity'?
Why do we need our roots?
Why do we need to be unique
What's the colour of your boots?

I'm red. I'm blue.
I'm yellow. I'm green.
I'm brown. I'm purple.
I'm something in between.

Confused? Are you?
What do you mean.
Everyone has one.
It's writ. It's seen.

What do you see?
Do you love me?
Do you hate me? 
Can I be be.

Do I need to change.
Do I need to stay same.
Tell me. Oh tell me.
What's my game.

Why do I ask you?
Why do I care?
You you. Me me.
Get outta my hair.

Identity. Identity
Who am I. Tell me.
Do you know? I don't.
Please. Please. I Plea.

The lost childhood.

Where did she go?
The girl with skinned knees
The girl with cropped hair
The girl in denim and tees

Where did she go?
The girl with the brown face
The girl with dirty nails
The girl who knew cotton - not lace

Where did she go?
The girl who laughed too loud
The girl who cried unashamedly
The girl who held her own in a crowd

Where did she go?
The girl who could fistcuff & fight
The girl who stood her ground
The girl who didn't hesitate in calling right

The swinging hand

The hand that swings

needs the clapping sound

of the hand that swings

in eager return

When the hand that swings

touches only grim silence

will it with brimming hope

try once - perchance twice?

But when all it feels

is a pregnant stillness

How can you expect

for it to swing again?

IF I EVER...

If i ever think of you
so hard,so hard I try not to
I only wish that before you had gone
I only wish that you had said good bye

In all these years I never knew
that when I ever thought of you
that every time I reached for you
these were the words I needed to hear

"Goodbye, farewell,thank you,my friend
the journey was lovely, but it had to end
When I am gone, I wont look back, wont turn around
Farewell, godspeed, do not hold on"

© Deepti Ravi
February 2009

WHAT DID JUST HIT ME?

Little Miss Red Riding Hood
Was skipping in an enchanted wood,
Twirling a daisy in her hand
Humming a song in la-la land

The sun was dancing to her tune
Waltzing along was the moon
A fox was chasing its own tail
down little Red Riding Hood’s trail

Out of the blue, out of the down
Along came an engine screaming its horn
Knocked little Red Riding Hood down
Snorted, sneered and rode back to town

The mourning sun went to hide
The daisies drooped, the moon she cried,
‘Poor little Miss Red Riding Hood
Skipping alone in an enchanted wood’

‘But’, screeched the owl in a loud aside,
‘Why did she hop where engines ride?’

© Deepti Ravi

P.S. In case your wondering, that’s how I feel post my mid terms :-(

SELL ME YOUR HEART....

"Sell me your hearts,I am here to buy"
raucously bellowed the heart buying man"
Give them to me, I'll pay any price
courageous among you,come if you can!"


"Run!Run! As fast as winds"
screamed petrified children scrambling away
escaping away from that horrible old man
leaving their unfinished games and play

"Why are we running? Who is that man?"
asked one child, new to that place"
To me he seems lonely,sad and dejected
Maybe we should ask him to once join our plays?"

Incredulously another stared at the boy
and asked "Did you not see that devil in disguise?
He is only here to buy our hearts!
That horrid old man with charcoal red eyes!"

"His wizened bent body is serpentine like
His fingers like talons, to tear you apart
He dresses in rags,has no shoes on his feet
and did you not hear him say that he would buy your heart?"

Puzzled the child looked at his newfound mate
and said, "All I did see was an old man,all alone
with eager bright eyes and a longing smile
crying for friendship,though weary to the bone"

The child then turned and he ran and he ran
as fast as the winds towards the heart buying man
The heart buyer watched amazed at such an extroardinary sight
until the child came, stopped and reached out its hand

And then with eyes gleaming, a strange smile lurking
he clapped his hands in untold glee
and asked"Have you come to sell me me your heart?"
"No",said the child "You can have mine for free."

-Deepti ,2004.

THE INDIAN INDEPENDENCE

It’s been fifty eight year since we got our independence. Right now I am extremely busy with all the packing that I need to finish, ensuring that I am not leaving anything behind, and all that tiny last minute shopping that revolves around your head, screaming “Do it. Do it. Do it”. Nike... I’m sorry, Power shoes (let’s not get globalised today and remain rooted in India), would be thrilled by my advertisement of its catch phrase.

Anyway, the reason I mentioned my packing is that I have no time to either eulogise our country for all it has achieved or deride it for what it has not. Instead, decided to post a poem about India which I wrote 8 years ago when I was 13.Very immature but not bad for a 13year old.

THE BLOSSOMING TREE

All you people I ask you to see
Is it right to live in disunity
in a wonderful country like this
which tries providing nothing but bliss

Our forefathers have nurtured it from a seed
To a tree whom every one of us need
It's a lovely country we live in
To let it die now would be a sin

The flowers of this tree were always lovely
blossoming in all colours whatever they may be
With dew shimmering on it early in the morn
When no face lived who at this would scorn

The fruits of this tree were wonderful to eat
They were neither too bitter nor too sweet
Just enough to satisfy ones soul
'cause love it gave but never stole

The lilting melodies of the leaves were clear
And every ear in the world would turn to hear
Enthralled in a new light life would shine
And to hear it again every heart would pine

But now these leaves are drooping down
And the harshness of the water has made the flowers drown
Clouds filled with tears still do cry
Not of happiness but for those who die

In the 50th year of Indian independence
Let us make a vow of peace and keep it from hence
For the fruits have rot but seeds can be seen
Which when sown will reap an India;
blossoming; the tree it had been.......

By
Deepti Ravi
August'97

I FIND YOU BORING -PART TWO

Read part one before attempting this...


What would you do
if you were looked in the eye
and told “Girl! I find you boring!”
with a hurt and desperate cry
would you rush into the room
bang the door on the way
and sob hearty fits 99
or would you stand up and say
in a rather sneering way
in a voice loud and clear
“I only wish you’d told me this before
you see, the feelings are mutual, my dear!”

Deepti