sunbeams bounce off
blue-green bamboo:
mosaic of light and shadow

(for the Caribbean Kigo Kukai #29)

Image from wallpapers-diq.com

Festival of lights ...

Jerome K. Jerome is easily one of my most favourite authors of all time -- I can copiously quote from "Three Men in a Boat" -- almost verbatim, even though my memory is typically only a few kilobytes when it comes to remembering anything of consequence. Well, the festival of lights -- Deepavali -- just brought to mind a passage from this book:


"We are creatures of the sun, we men and women. We love light and life. ... In the sunlight -- in the daytime, when Nature is alive and busy all around us, we like the open hill-sides and the deep woods well enough: but in the night, when our Mother Earth has gone to sleep, and left us waking, oh! the world seems so lonesome, and we get frightened, like children in a silent house. Then we sit and sob, and long for the gas-lit streets, and the sound of human voices, and the answering throb of human life. We feel so helpless and so little in the great stillness, when the dark trees rustle in the night-wind. There are so many ghosts about, and their silent sighs make us feel so sad. Let us gather together in the great cities, and light huge bonfires of a million gas-jets, and shout and sing and feel brave."

Well, it is still valid in this day and age! One can relate to what he says -- from early childhood, we learn to look for the moon in the sky. And, mothers all around the world can testify to its remarkable ability to calm down wailing infants.

As the moon waxes, the night sky is brighter and our moods are uplifted. When we are gloomy, the new moon weighs us down and we long for it to grow again and comfort us. Most of our festivals are celebrated on new moon days -- perhaps to improve our spirits ! Deepavali -- the festival of lights -- is celebrated on a Krishnapaksha Chathurdashi (meaning the fourteenth day in the waning phase) -- the day before the new moon.

Deepavali literally means row of lamps. Earthern lamps (known as Ahal Vilakku in Tamil) used to be the norm about four decades back -- now traditions have grown to include new technology. Strings of colourful electric lights adorn the outside of most homes. Earthern lamps are still used, but are now hand-painted. I was proud to see my five-year old decorate a few with glitter pens (you can see them in the collage). She was also happy to colour the kolams. The floating candles enchanted her the most, though. Her eyes lit up on seeing them and she insisted on switching off all the lights to enjoy them better. I actually succeeded in my attempt to make a traditional milk cake and the nada pakodas I made were nice and crisp -- it is amazing how some constructive comments from your daughter can make you attempt new recipes. It certainly reminded me of all the bhakshanams Amma used to make for Deepavali. Fireworks are the highlight of this festival -- for the most part of the week, the night sky sparkled and resonated in a riot of colours and sounds.


each day
the stars come out
a little earlier ...

(Asahi Shimbun Oct 21, 2011 issue)

after the fireworks display
the night sky --
a lot darker

It was a fine morning in June. Cars were parked on either side of the road in front of a modest looking house. People thronged outside the gate and you could see a few trying to peek inside beyond the high walls. Some of them tried their luck, checking out possible vantage positions by walking around the house. Subtle jostling and elbowing was apparent in the sophisticated looking crowd. One could hear sounds of laughter as well as shrill crying beyond the walls. A few rubberneckers towered above the rest of the crowd and were the envy of the others. Some people paced up and down along the walls reminding one of caged animals. Others chatted amongst themselves – you could hear exchanges like "I’ve heard that …", "Someone I know had a similar experience…", and so on. Patience not being one of my virtues, I kept checking my watch but time seemed to have come to a standstill.

Finally, after what seemed like eons, the security guard announced that we would have to make way for him to open the gates. There was utter chaos at this, although a small space was eventually cleared around "The Gate". More craning of necks; then the trickle of … small children – out of the playhome, after their first day at school ! I held my breath and prayed that my daughter hadn’t found it too hard. Most of the kids that trooped out rejoiced at the sight of their parents, glad to be back with known people. I braced myself to comfort my daughter when she would appear.

When she did, it was a real anti-climax. She cried to go back inside – loudly enough for all the assembled crowd to hear! In spite of my dusky complexion, I must have glowed red with embarrassment. But I was also swept away by a sense of sheer relief. My daughter was so taken up with all the new toys and the play area that she wanted to stay longer. So I let her go back in for a few more minutes. She was still unwilling to come out, but the playhome awaited its next batch of children soon. I carried her as she furiously kicked and protested vocally at having to go away from her new-found playmates. I was glad my daughter’s love for novelty took the edge off parental separation. I have never had any trouble since then ...

... until today ! Now my daughter is almost six and she cried for the first time today that she did not want to go to school after almost two weeks of Dasara holidays -- it reminded me of her first day at the playhome (almost 3 years back) ... and hence this blog post.

cherry blossoms
erupt everywhere:
the heart hopes again ...


submitted for the Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival 2011 Haiku Invitational.


I wrote this in early April this year, while reflecting on the dignified way in which the Japanese dealt with the tsunami and earthquakes in their country. The cherry blossoms, to me, are a symbol of resilience -- an inspiration in tough times ... and a reassuring sight after a bleak winter.


Image from flower-picspot.blogspot.com

Starry skies ...

starry night:
... somehow we end up
holding hands

(Fourth place tie in the "starry night" kukai, Sketchbook Jul/Aug 2011)


starry night:
stumbling over
an old tree stump


as the oars
dip into the starry night—
soft shimmering ripples


(also for the "starry night" kukai, Sketchbook Jul/Aug 2011)



Image from journeytothestars.wordpress.com

a grasshopper surfs,
rustling the green sea of leaves—
touchdown

(selected as part of Guest Editor Bernard Gieske's choices in the July/August 2011 Sketchbook insects/bugs haiku thread)

Image courtesy of travel.mongabay.com

soft spring twilight
a lime-green leaf takes flight:
luna moth

(for the July 2011 Shiki Monthly Kukai)



rain-brushed wings
flutter in the night:
Luna moth

(selected as part of Editor John Daleiden's choice and as part of Guest Editor Bernard Gieske's choice in the July/August 2011 Sketchbook insects/bugs haiku thread)


Image courtesy of fcps.edu