orange and luminous,
Flaming up.
Your halo of heat...
warm and scalding
worshiped and revered
What am I???
Fire or Sun
The Artificial sun.
Amber glow, lighting me up.
Defying the shadows,
Throwing colors all around.
Illuminating happiness.
About Me
- Yashomana Choudhury
- Guwahati, Assam, India
- Writing is(to Me) a pleasure, a bliss, a trance..a transition and self-crafted FREEDOM!
Friday, 16 December 2011
short fun poems!!
Light
orange and luminous,
Flaming up.
Your halo of heat...
warm and scalding
worshiped and revered
What am I???
Fire or Sun
The Artificial sun.
Amber glow, lighting me up.
Defying the shadows,
Throwing colors all around.
Illuminating happiness.
orange and luminous,
Flaming up.
Your halo of heat...
warm and scalding
worshiped and revered
What am I???
Fire or Sun
The Artificial sun.
Amber glow, lighting me up.
Defying the shadows,
Throwing colors all around.
Illuminating happiness.
Saturday, 10 December 2011
The Silent Sounds.
The window overlooked the blue ocean that existed beside the small cottage and by the window sat Saya. She was playing the piano yet, she could hear the sounds of the sea and the wind attuning together, it was an enthralling, yet a formidable duet to her, the loud bass music seeped in her eardrums and she tried to read the message it tried to convey. But now it was obvious...a storm was in the offing to endow with further rhythm to the sea and the wind.
Sounds always fascinated her, to her everything has a unique sound and it was her way of being responsive to things, a way to balance the inability in her, the imbalance of co-ordination of speech and sound in her body. While her sense of perceiving sound was extraordinarily developed, her vocal chords were unproductive which made her unable to articulate any sounds. A severe throat infection in her childhood had left her speech system barren and silent. But she seldom grieve for her voice, her voice was now just an unfamiliar tone which she was ready to forego, because devoid of 'her' sound she learned to accumulate many new sounds.
She could hear her mother humming a tune, she smiled to herself, her mother once wanted to be a singer, but due to heavy responsibility of surviving in the hard world alone filched the dream out of her, so that it was now just a shadow of the dream she used to nurture. The grand antique piano stood like an evidence of her wish, it was the only precious thing left in their ominous life. A gift from her husband when things were good in their life, when Saya still had her father, until the fated day when the ship on which he was working, got lost in the ferocity of the ocean currents. They had a hard time overcoming the loss and she faced a tough time handling the situation, it was that time when the infection ruined Saya's throat.
Her mother was moodily watching Saya play the piano, the piano which once held so many prospects to her life is now just expensive thing which she had not yet sold because it gave her daughter a voice. It greatly pained her when Saya lost her voice and she could not provide any treatment to her. Saya did not want her mother to work extra hard to cure her, but it always troubled her mother, but now after finishing school her mother had become obsessive to treat her and every little extra amount she gets , she saves it for her treatment. The silent throat never bothered her, her ears accumulated enough sounds to make her feel the want of any other sound. It puzzled her mother, because her sense of rhythm, notes were perfect and she could play the piano perfectly without any training. She was sure that with the aid of her voice she could completely master the art of music.
But to Saya her sounds were her music, her reverence. This uncanny ability to perceive sounds, the echoes in everything, in every object was her identity...a self she mysteriously developed.
She was very fond of the piano, it was her means of creating endless new sounds, with each new note she created and played, a sense of optimism filled her heart. All her emotions flowed through the sounds of the piano, it gave her a voice, an eternal voice, a voice which can reach across the sea and the land. She could relate her murky life to the piano, its music; its sounds are part of its innards, just as her sounds were intrinsic. She could channel her music through the piano, it was like her voice, her inner voice surfacing on the sound of music.
The ringing of the phone jarred her tune, it was a sound she was not fond of, it disturbed her senses. Her mother answered it. She could hear her mother listening intently to it and a glad smile appearing on her face. She excitedly came over to her and said, "Saya , I have some good news for you. The doctor that I talked to for your treatment is here in our town. And with luck we can get you checked tomorrow."
Saya did not want to dampen her mother's eagerness, perhaps having a voice would be so unrewarding , she could produce more sounds, but still she preferred her extraordinary sense of hearing to her 'unfound voice'.
Her treatment began, the doctor examined and observed her for few days. On the third day, the doctor informed, "The medication is working fine, we just need to do an operation and within a few weeks she would be able to speak again." Her mother was thrilled, she was willing to take up any expense to cure her daughter. But Saya was not happy, she could not define her uneasiness, she felt she would gain something at the cost of another. But she had to give in to her mother's wish, but first confirming they could afford the treatment, her mother assured her she could.
She closed her eyes and listened to the sea outside calling her to join in, she felt better. After today, she would also be able to cry out like the sea, could use her voice to sing along without the piano....but no! Her piano was her real voice, a voice that assisted her all through her life and no voice could ever replace it. She felt incomplete without her piano, she lovingly touched its keys and struck up a note and played as if was her last day at the keys.
She was changed into a neat hospital gown, the doctor had assured her, the operation would be fine, she looked at her mother and she gave her an assuring nod.
She felt delirious, perhaps the drug she was given was taking effect. The OT looked a bit scary to her, the tools...knives, scissors, scalpels even the nurses were building up a staccato melody. She smiled, trusted her ears to find a melody even in this situation...and then she was unconscious.
She opened her eyes to find her mother sleeping on the couch beside her bed, everything was very silent. It was unnerving to her to "hear" such silence which she never felt. Perhaps she was so interested in gathering new sounds to care for silence and now this hospital room has commenced the silence. She reached for a glass of water kept on the table, beside the bed, her grip slackened and she dropped the glass shattering the silence. The loud crass noise hurt her ears, it was not pleasant, it woke her mother who came at once beside her and said, "Do not use your voice yet dear, you need to rest...and sweetheart the operation was a success. You can now use your voice in a few weeks," her mother told her happily that her wish had been fulfilled. Saya smiled feebly at her mother's happy face but she felt a sense of loss which she could not comprehend, maybe tomorrow would be better. But the next day too was the same. She could hear the sounds but it did not sound the same, it was like her eardrums had gone fuzzy. She longed to go home, to use her piano, now that she has her voice, it would be a great to use it against the voice of her piano and also maybe she would again discern new sounds and thread it to a tune. She consoled herself that the next day would be better but each day was same, until the day she was discharged. She felt happy and anxious it would be after so long she would play her piano and create new sounds which was completely absent in the four walls of her hospital room. Her mother thanked the doctor and they headed home. On the way she could hear the sounds of the cars, bicycles, people shouting, but it was all noise to her... to her it was not piece of music. It troubled her, she longed to hear the music in those sounds which she earlier could and now she could not.
At last she reached the place she longed for, she rushed through the front door to the sitting room, and she stopped abruptly.... an empty space greeted her, the markings were still there as if it was recently moved. She could not believe it was gone, tears flowed heavily... she felt numb. Her mother silently walked up to her "I am sorry Saya, I had to sell the piano, it was the only means through which I could get more money for your treatment"
At last she understood why she felt empty, depressed , her real voice was gone, so has her extraordinary ability to perceive new sounds, it had all left her at the cost of that 'unfamiliar' voice she would have all her life...she let out a wail and that was the first sound she had let out.
Sounds always fascinated her, to her everything has a unique sound and it was her way of being responsive to things, a way to balance the inability in her, the imbalance of co-ordination of speech and sound in her body. While her sense of perceiving sound was extraordinarily developed, her vocal chords were unproductive which made her unable to articulate any sounds. A severe throat infection in her childhood had left her speech system barren and silent. But she seldom grieve for her voice, her voice was now just an unfamiliar tone which she was ready to forego, because devoid of 'her' sound she learned to accumulate many new sounds.
She could hear her mother humming a tune, she smiled to herself, her mother once wanted to be a singer, but due to heavy responsibility of surviving in the hard world alone filched the dream out of her, so that it was now just a shadow of the dream she used to nurture. The grand antique piano stood like an evidence of her wish, it was the only precious thing left in their ominous life. A gift from her husband when things were good in their life, when Saya still had her father, until the fated day when the ship on which he was working, got lost in the ferocity of the ocean currents. They had a hard time overcoming the loss and she faced a tough time handling the situation, it was that time when the infection ruined Saya's throat.
Her mother was moodily watching Saya play the piano, the piano which once held so many prospects to her life is now just expensive thing which she had not yet sold because it gave her daughter a voice. It greatly pained her when Saya lost her voice and she could not provide any treatment to her. Saya did not want her mother to work extra hard to cure her, but it always troubled her mother, but now after finishing school her mother had become obsessive to treat her and every little extra amount she gets , she saves it for her treatment. The silent throat never bothered her, her ears accumulated enough sounds to make her feel the want of any other sound. It puzzled her mother, because her sense of rhythm, notes were perfect and she could play the piano perfectly without any training. She was sure that with the aid of her voice she could completely master the art of music.
She was very fond of the piano, it was her means of creating endless new sounds, with each new note she created and played, a sense of optimism filled her heart. All her emotions flowed through the sounds of the piano, it gave her a voice, an eternal voice, a voice which can reach across the sea and the land. She could relate her murky life to the piano, its music; its sounds are part of its innards, just as her sounds were intrinsic. She could channel her music through the piano, it was like her voice, her inner voice surfacing on the sound of music.
The ringing of the phone jarred her tune, it was a sound she was not fond of, it disturbed her senses. Her mother answered it. She could hear her mother listening intently to it and a glad smile appearing on her face. She excitedly came over to her and said, "Saya , I have some good news for you. The doctor that I talked to for your treatment is here in our town. And with luck we can get you checked tomorrow."
Saya did not want to dampen her mother's eagerness, perhaps having a voice would be so unrewarding , she could produce more sounds, but still she preferred her extraordinary sense of hearing to her 'unfound voice'.
Her treatment began, the doctor examined and observed her for few days. On the third day, the doctor informed, "The medication is working fine, we just need to do an operation and within a few weeks she would be able to speak again." Her mother was thrilled, she was willing to take up any expense to cure her daughter. But Saya was not happy, she could not define her uneasiness, she felt she would gain something at the cost of another. But she had to give in to her mother's wish, but first confirming they could afford the treatment, her mother assured her she could.
She closed her eyes and listened to the sea outside calling her to join in, she felt better. After today, she would also be able to cry out like the sea, could use her voice to sing along without the piano....but no! Her piano was her real voice, a voice that assisted her all through her life and no voice could ever replace it. She felt incomplete without her piano, she lovingly touched its keys and struck up a note and played as if was her last day at the keys.
She was changed into a neat hospital gown, the doctor had assured her, the operation would be fine, she looked at her mother and she gave her an assuring nod.
She felt delirious, perhaps the drug she was given was taking effect. The OT looked a bit scary to her, the tools...knives, scissors, scalpels even the nurses were building up a staccato melody. She smiled, trusted her ears to find a melody even in this situation...and then she was unconscious.
She opened her eyes to find her mother sleeping on the couch beside her bed, everything was very silent. It was unnerving to her to "hear" such silence which she never felt. Perhaps she was so interested in gathering new sounds to care for silence and now this hospital room has commenced the silence. She reached for a glass of water kept on the table, beside the bed, her grip slackened and she dropped the glass shattering the silence. The loud crass noise hurt her ears, it was not pleasant, it woke her mother who came at once beside her and said, "Do not use your voice yet dear, you need to rest...and sweetheart the operation was a success. You can now use your voice in a few weeks," her mother told her happily that her wish had been fulfilled. Saya smiled feebly at her mother's happy face but she felt a sense of loss which she could not comprehend, maybe tomorrow would be better. But the next day too was the same. She could hear the sounds but it did not sound the same, it was like her eardrums had gone fuzzy. She longed to go home, to use her piano, now that she has her voice, it would be a great to use it against the voice of her piano and also maybe she would again discern new sounds and thread it to a tune. She consoled herself that the next day would be better but each day was same, until the day she was discharged. She felt happy and anxious it would be after so long she would play her piano and create new sounds which was completely absent in the four walls of her hospital room. Her mother thanked the doctor and they headed home. On the way she could hear the sounds of the cars, bicycles, people shouting, but it was all noise to her... to her it was not piece of music. It troubled her, she longed to hear the music in those sounds which she earlier could and now she could not.
At last she reached the place she longed for, she rushed through the front door to the sitting room, and she stopped abruptly.... an empty space greeted her, the markings were still there as if it was recently moved. She could not believe it was gone, tears flowed heavily... she felt numb. Her mother silently walked up to her "I am sorry Saya, I had to sell the piano, it was the only means through which I could get more money for your treatment"
At last she understood why she felt empty, depressed , her real voice was gone, so has her extraordinary ability to perceive new sounds, it had all left her at the cost of that 'unfamiliar' voice she would have all her life...she let out a wail and that was the first sound she had let out.
Saturday, 15 October 2011
Haiku ( a form of Japanese poetry,very short poems.)
Lament
Bleak moon, biting wind
Sending shivers all around
She waited, night long
5-7-5 syllabic form
( a modern English haiku)
Bleak moon, biting wind
Sending shivers all around
She waited, night long
5-7-5 syllabic form
( a modern English haiku)
Haiku ( a form of Traditional Japanese poetry) these are very short poems.)
A Rainbow
A storm swept over,
Showers of 'decipitation'
Rainbow at the end.
5-7-5 syllabic form.
(modern English haiku)
A storm swept over,
Showers of 'decipitation'
Rainbow at the end.
5-7-5 syllabic form.
(modern English haiku)
Saturday, 27 August 2011
"My" adaptation of the story "Tobermory" by Saki
TOBERMORY
I was little anxious when I heard Mrs Blemley’s is giving another of her dinner parties this evening. I am not that fond of dinner parties though I like the food, but mostly because of my coyness and of my disastrous dressing sense. But there was just one thing that instigated me to go to the party.
The air was pleasantly warm when I entered the garden which was ornately decorated with flowers and small bug lights. The guests were sitting around those small round tables which were arranged beautifully near the pool. But my eyes sought only one and there she stood... like a luminous white flower glowing in the dark with white fur, her bright orange eyes and a matching flower on her collar ...ah! the only colourful thing among the mass of blacks and greys.
I made my way towards her rather than my host and hostess, welcoming guests. I assembled my guts and walked towards her; tonight I have to talk to her, it’s been too long my feelings are congealed inside me. As I reached her I opened my mouth to talk to her, but instead with a swirl she walked away from me as if I did not exist. Sigh! She always taunts me this way. I watched her curl up to her mistress’s lap and watched me beadily while her fur is being constantly ruffled by the ladies.
Yes people I am a cat and a black cat as that with all the superstitions and other beliefs attached and yea... I am Tobermory by the way, and the beautiful white cat (sigh! ) is Lily Mrs Jenkins’ cat. I was desperate to get her attention but all she bestows upon me is ignorance. What do I do to be her only number one muse? Then the answer came to be in the form of Mr Appin an old eccentric scientist who wants to achieve extraordinary things...like teaching a cat to talk in human language and yes! I am his first pupil. I must say he is good, but no one believes him as I was reluctant to share my knowledge with the world, so he was dejected and dismissed. But now the situation is different if I have to capture Lily’s attention. I have to show my talents.
He was sitting alone (predictably) on a table with a glass of whisky,
“Mr Appin” I gently called, he jerked his head towards my direction.
“Oh it’s you Tobermory, what do you want from me now?” his voice was angry then burst out “wasn’t it enough for you to humiliate me in front of the world”
“Relax Mr Appin , I know I had done great injustice to you, so I have come to make amends, you see”
“Amends! What do you mean?”
“I mean I will demonstrate my speaking skills in front of everyone, now”.
He was surprised and half rose from his chair “you will?”
“aa yes”
“Come on now.” He picked me up (that was degrading) “I can walk you know”
“Oh sorry” he grinned, he seemed excited.
He went towards the large table loaded with drinks and climbed on it and shouted
“All my good people, good evening to you all. Today I present you the opportunity of witnessing something rare and wonderful” (I hope he doesn’t overstate himself) “a spectacle never seen, I present you the talking cat Tobermory”
There was a flutter of response and exasperated looks, till I joined Mr Appin on the table and greeted, “Hello everyone”.
There was shocked silence, everyone gaping at me, which was rather uncomfortable, then I saw her eyes on me, and my confidence renewed.
“I know it’s hard for you to believe a cat can talk but here I am, and I can talk all you want to hear in your language -starting with Mr and Mrs Blemley, thank you for keeping me in your house and anyone who wants to talk to me, you have the whole night ahead ” I ended my little speech.
And now suddenly I and Mr Appin was core of the party with the fancy food offered to us and of course the lovely ladies cuddling me and having their photos taken with me...it was really grand but the best part was when Lily walked up to me with her seductive smile “so where were you hiding your talents?” she asked me alluringly.
“Waiting for the right moment for them to surface” I replied, dazed.
“Well don’t hide anymore talents, I would like to see all of them. Meet me tomorrow by the park” with that she gave me one of her alluring smile and walked away with Mrs Jenkins.
Sigh! That was the best party ever.
YASHOMANA CHOUDHURY
I was little anxious when I heard Mrs Blemley’s is giving another of her dinner parties this evening. I am not that fond of dinner parties though I like the food, but mostly because of my coyness and of my disastrous dressing sense. But there was just one thing that instigated me to go to the party.
The air was pleasantly warm when I entered the garden which was ornately decorated with flowers and small bug lights. The guests were sitting around those small round tables which were arranged beautifully near the pool. But my eyes sought only one and there she stood... like a luminous white flower glowing in the dark with white fur, her bright orange eyes and a matching flower on her collar ...ah! the only colourful thing among the mass of blacks and greys.
I made my way towards her rather than my host and hostess, welcoming guests. I assembled my guts and walked towards her; tonight I have to talk to her, it’s been too long my feelings are congealed inside me. As I reached her I opened my mouth to talk to her, but instead with a swirl she walked away from me as if I did not exist. Sigh! She always taunts me this way. I watched her curl up to her mistress’s lap and watched me beadily while her fur is being constantly ruffled by the ladies.
Yes people I am a cat and a black cat as that with all the superstitions and other beliefs attached and yea... I am Tobermory by the way, and the beautiful white cat (sigh! ) is Lily Mrs Jenkins’ cat. I was desperate to get her attention but all she bestows upon me is ignorance. What do I do to be her only number one muse? Then the answer came to be in the form of Mr Appin an old eccentric scientist who wants to achieve extraordinary things...like teaching a cat to talk in human language and yes! I am his first pupil. I must say he is good, but no one believes him as I was reluctant to share my knowledge with the world, so he was dejected and dismissed. But now the situation is different if I have to capture Lily’s attention. I have to show my talents.
He was sitting alone (predictably) on a table with a glass of whisky,
“Mr Appin” I gently called, he jerked his head towards my direction.
“Oh it’s you Tobermory, what do you want from me now?” his voice was angry then burst out “wasn’t it enough for you to humiliate me in front of the world”
“Relax Mr Appin , I know I had done great injustice to you, so I have come to make amends, you see”
“I mean I will demonstrate my speaking skills in front of everyone, now”.
He was surprised and half rose from his chair “you will?”
“aa yes”
“Come on now.” He picked me up (that was degrading) “I can walk you know”
“Oh sorry” he grinned, he seemed excited.
He went towards the large table loaded with drinks and climbed on it and shouted
“All my good people, good evening to you all. Today I present you the opportunity of witnessing something rare and wonderful” (I hope he doesn’t overstate himself) “a spectacle never seen, I present you the talking cat Tobermory”
There was a flutter of response and exasperated looks, till I joined Mr Appin on the table and greeted, “Hello everyone”.
There was shocked silence, everyone gaping at me, which was rather uncomfortable, then I saw her eyes on me, and my confidence renewed.
“I know it’s hard for you to believe a cat can talk but here I am, and I can talk all you want to hear in your language -starting with Mr and Mrs Blemley, thank you for keeping me in your house and anyone who wants to talk to me, you have the whole night ahead ” I ended my little speech.
And now suddenly I and Mr Appin was core of the party with the fancy food offered to us and of course the lovely ladies cuddling me and having their photos taken with me...it was really grand but the best part was when Lily walked up to me with her seductive smile “so where were you hiding your talents?” she asked me alluringly.
“Waiting for the right moment for them to surface” I replied, dazed.
“Well don’t hide anymore talents, I would like to see all of them. Meet me tomorrow by the park” with that she gave me one of her alluring smile and walked away with Mrs Jenkins.
Sigh! That was the best party ever.
YASHOMANA CHOUDHURY
Wednesday, 1 June 2011
"The Scream"
In the waste land of materialism,
twisted, stagnant and bare feelings
Whirls,Stirs and Simmers.
Emotions,
Tamed and contained,
Frustration mounting..
Till it culminates to a suffocating nausea,
rotting your innards and soul
waiting for and explosion.
and then The scream.
Wednesday, 19 January 2011
It was an interesting task we were set upon during one of the Creative writing session what was we thought as random words and expression turned out to be a POEM!!!!,
A Wavering Mind..
Raindrops.
Gloominess,
Thoughts tinkling like the rain drops on my window.
Confusion,
Why a melancholic sprinkle on this moonlit night?
Candlelight,
Fireflies...
at the rim of twilight glided with their fiery bodies from the dark snare of leaves.
Consciousness,
Containment
Happiness seeping in, infighting feelings...
I breathed deeply and my lips gave way to a wavering smile
Sitting pondering pleasantly.
YASHOMANA CHOUDHURY
Raindrops.
Gloominess,
Thoughts tinkling like the rain drops on my window.
Confusion,
Why a melancholic sprinkle on this moonlit night?
Candlelight,
Fireflies...
at the rim of twilight glided with their fiery bodies from the dark snare of leaves.
Consciousness,
Containment
Happiness seeping in, infighting feelings...
I breathed deeply and my lips gave way to a wavering smile
Sitting pondering pleasantly.
YASHOMANA CHOUDHURY
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