Panda Car

Ill be scribbling alphabets transforming into words, while my jealous reflection gives me a headache.

Who did  even break atoms, see how tough it is to earth~ a term much used in  radio and electronics. For ordinary circuits, including telephones and distribution lines the earth being a conductor of electricity, though a poor one can be  the return wire to complete the circuit. For circuits involving electromagnetic oscillations and waves the earth is the conductor to which the transmitter or receiver is connected, the antenna being the other.

            I pressed my ear even harder to the ground and concentrated more, this I did as I long to write and the pen doesn’t stir. I do this, it is as if the floor is telling me stories. I hear hum, continuous low frequency noise (q.v.) in my ear and writhe words.

I could see the soft paws of our cat walking carefully,sounds of the street hawkers outside, foot steps, fans twirling. Suddenly mom called smattering my slump of high.

My way is just not my way it seems

In this walk of life

I had  chose to sit back

And let it all come to me

I spilled out my time

The sweet wines taste the same no more

Nothing seems so valiant like before

My eyes accustomed to all courting gestures

Finds flaw and boring

Change is what I thirst so

But time denies me this

So I lift my burden of probability.

October 2013
©Copyright Mehjabin Shahed
j

Cajole

Romeo thought that Juliet had never waited

Thus don’t be mistaken and know that I do

Obediently glint in the mirror while the silly doves coo.

 

The peacocks’ dance induce enticement

Kaleidoscopic spread of gorgeous colours

Uncomfortably difficult to ignore individual performers.

 

Though the butterflies must be cautious

Both will gather a life time in a few true moments

And then their love will become a chrysalis’s tenants.

 

You could be treading any where                              

 Missing me like the lonely moon 

   Romeo had said that I am the sun which you’ll know soon.

 

And you I will recognize by the curse of the moon,

 How it jealously reflects the   sunshine

  Deeming that heart of yours that infamously stole mine.

 

 

(c)Copyright  MEHJABIN SHAHED

https://www.deviantart.com/thefirebomb/art/Underwater-Love-854949336

 

Epilogue

EPILOGUE

September 11, 2012 at 9:50pm

 In the mythical mirage city, Hercules carried the sky on his shoulders, Philip and Alexander were warrior princes, Octavian guarded the Achilles’ heel, piety Helen, Cleopatra’s beauty and unruly imagination led by Darius built yet another Babylon at a distant shore_ he grand design of honour and chastity, and Nefertiti’s power was never left behind.

Clytemstra flipped another page in time, summoning black hole and King NebuchadnezzarII as she sighed.

John Keats once said, “Fanatics have their dreams, with which they build a paradise for a sect.”

Saima thought to herself_ even in these games of imagination, it pays to impose a little order, and wander through the infinite wilderness of stories. She collected segments from history and mythology to sketch her own version of anecdote referring to hypothetical personalities. It was as though they were exchanging views on some arbitration.

Just when she was about to come up with a very intense thought that could be deeply controversial_ she heard someone calling her. It always happened like this_ whenever her hypothetical debates were conversing on a very interesting state of affairs; she had to return to reality. Her watch showed 10:30 AM, who could it be?

     She was a software developer by profession. Writing was just one of her passions. She loved contemplating about reasons behind the manners in which different people behaved. Honestly, she wanted to be a counselor earnestly but ended up being a programmer. Though now, she is debating with herself whether she should switch her career.

     The young boy looked fifteen or sixteen. He seemed to be from a well-off family_ clean and smartly dressed. He was alone and Saima wondered why? Little was she aware of the enthusiastic mind filled with fervent questions infront of her.

     As soon as he finished with the introductory round, he amazed Saima with a very insightful question_

     “If you filled up the gaps between the stars in the sky at night, would they still be as beautiful!”

     Saima was taken aback for a while. The teenager infront of her was too young to realize the romantic depth of his question. She didn’t know how to put her answer in words. So she gave him contemplation to study_

     “When all wars are over, a butterfly will still be beautiful.”

     This kept Ovi occupied for sometime. Saima thought to herself whether he was trying to portray an image and impress her? He was only a student who had come to her to learn the basics of computer.

     Without wasting any further time, they began their studies. She would teach him about GATES and TRUTH TABLES as he was already familiar with Binary Digits.

GATES: In simple language, gates are circuits in a computer’s hardware. For different combinations of zeros and ones (Binary Digits), i.e. on and off of the electricity, different gates gave different results. This is how calculations are done electronically.

     The AND gate got Ovi very intrigued. He exclaimed at his own intelligence when he realized that this gate acted like Multiplication. Or else how the hell could 1 + 1 be still equal to 1.

Saima was pleased at her student’s enthusiasm. She thought to herself that one day Ovi would probably be a famous programmer. She was sure the he would find programming softwares very interesting.

Moments when her student was busy solving algorithms, she wondered why did he begin with a remark like that. His comment definitely concluded that he was optimistic, but something was definitely bothering his head and she wondered what. His reason for being there and his annotations had no connection, or atleast Saima failed to find any.

It happened to be so_ Ovi read a lot of science fiction. The fact that machines which worked on switching on and switching off of electricity could possibly fight a war to rule their planet was breathtaking. Books say computers are not intelligent as they cannot think by themselves. They can only operate on commands. Only, he couldn’t appreciate that those computers could themselves create programmes where every possibility of any probable occurrence what so ever could be calculated and taken required measures for. This made Saima remember a quotation of A.E.Housman_

“But oh, the two troubles in my life that reaves me of rest. The brains in my head and the heart in my chest.”

That seemed to settle his state of mind, atleast it made sense to the teacher. Suddenly Ovi dropped his pen and asked Saima,

“What is the connection between science and religion?”

This caught her by surprise, it took her a few moments to gather herself and then she composed her reply:

“Why don’t you know? In the Quran, it is written that there is a particular mark on the moon. When astronomers actually stepped on the moon, they discovered the mark exactly the way it was mentioned in the Quran.”

The fact seemed to irritate Ovi a little. He was expecting something more poetic. Before he could argue any further, his tutor gave him a new problem to solve. He thought to himself, nobody could match his idiosyncratic level while having conversations. Though his new teacher did please him with her first reply, her second one was very bland. He was definitely not satisfied. She just shut him up with a fact, why not something more imaginary. May be something like_ prayers are a form of meditation. Or human psychology tends to find relief in trusting a higher power and obeying instructions. To him, decision making is as troublesome for human as for computers. He finally refused to work on the assigned task and voiced his views on the topic. He added that responsibility is the hardest obligation one has to overcome to gain trust and respect. And then contently he returned to his studies.

  Saima liked her new student. He was inquisitive and at the same time quite logical for his age. She smirked a little and picked up a book from the shelf, Geeta Hariharan’s “when Dreams Travel.”

She read out a line and handed the book to Ovi for reading.

“The sky isn’t big enough for both sunrise and sunset.”

 

Saima turned to her theoretical depictions and announced silently; an ancient mirror glinted obediently revealing impatience_ reassuring there is nothing in the world_ real or imaginary_ which it cannot reflect in its glassy depths, or which it cannot stretch, enlarge or distort.

Even in this generation of the 21st century, a black cat crossing your path is considered to be an omen. If you ever come across such a situation, just take three steps back, and then carry on with your destination without any hesitation!

 

 

 

 

(c)Copyright MEHJABIN SHAHED

pil.jpg

A Patch Of Sky

The poet was gone, she became memory; memory turned into legend

The poet’s soul_ hardy beast of a soul – will manage to stay alive.

She would never master her new language completely,

And her sudden fits and visions would never leave her.

For a while she was a court favourite.

Atleast as long as her strange visions and strange pronouncements continued to awe and entertain everyone.

Who knows when she will break or bend a rule,

Simply because of being alone and forgotten.

Her face at this time brought together as never before

The excited wonder of the child or the poet, the torment and pain of understanding.

She, a faithful description of a woman who sought

All manner of truth in the infinite lap of the skies.

It was best to leave her in peace in a windowless room.

Her words made no sense to her listeners,

But there was an eerie sense of remoteness in her eyes-

As if they wre traveling to different places and times

Though she stood there, safely trapped.

Truth-sky, a double _ barrel name apposite for someone,

Torn between two places.

Her verse, a little too truthful for some tastes.

 

Source : When Dreams Travell BY  Geeta Hariharanimg_1578

Crudeness of Garnet

 

 

 

Tale of divination narrated in the wailing splinter of Mecca’s akik ring;

The calls of the wild tide repost to all Godly blessings in disguise,

The badge of genesis jeopardized in misrule of avarice.

Melodious contemplation greets wraithlike faint jeers,

Pronunciamento biting the poise of composure maddened by scandalmonger’s harassments

Spell of calmness paralyze my spine seconding the curse of the moon.

Ghostly arrest of love witness daisies withering away under our feet through my faith smeared on the mirror,

Aligning adjourns history’s ceasefire on the parched armour categorizing sentences rummaging decisive penance.

Sameness of guilt will vision sanctity in the lashes of tired conscience,

Vile is how I apathy your acuity.

(c)Copyright Mehjabin Shahed

2nd August 2012

Quotodian

The moon still had a few days to complete astral,
The waters spake not much in tides anymore.

I scored veil without preparation practice or fluctuating acoustics,
Hence I was said to be of a different mother.

Winter is almost over,
There was a long dandelion shower almost three years ago ~ 

©Mehjabin Shahed

18th March 2015img_1263

Honey

imageHoney

Turn over the leaf
There is a new star,
Shining in my corner of the sky.
It tells me tales of distant sonnets
Where the daisy blooms only for the bee,
And the honey leaves a tantalizing aftertaste in the mouth.
Nothing cowardly demurred by resentments…

©copyright Mehjabin Shahed
8 th February 2016