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HARMONY

Alphonse Maria

Copyright © 2016 by Alphonse Maria.

ISBN:

Softcover eBook

978-1-4828-6838-8 978-1-4828-6837-1

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Contents

1. The Intruder

2. Responsibility

3. As Bread to be Broken

4. The Silent Night

5. The Agony

6. The Concert

7. The tale of the sea

8. Conviction

9. Desert Dreams

10. The Unknown

11. Peace

12. Indolence

13. Love

14. Perfection

15. Birds of the Air

16. The Morning Star

17. The Word, the World and the Words

18. From the Depths

19. I non-saw Him

20. Green Dreams

21. Eternity

22. I am sorry

23. Mr. Sorry

24. Rosemary’s Gift

25. The Flower Touch

26. Oh! Ousu!

27. How can I?

1

The Intruder

He was indecent and irritating. Keeping no manners He came unannounced Entered our chamber never Pausing to knock or wait.

It was as though he had Some urgent business with her. So, being civil, I came out And waited for him to leave.

I didn’t say goodbye to my friend. I thought the intruder would soon leave. I hadn’t even finished my tale When the savage dashed into the room.

Minutes, hours and days ed, But no sign of him coming out. I could overhear loud whispers, “Alright, it’s only a matter of months.”

At last he came out, And asked me to go in. I I didn’t like The way he bade goodbye.

I rushed into the room Eager to finish my tale And know what the intruder said. But alas! The rogue had stolen The treasure of my tales.

Undaunted, I searched for the songs I knew my friend cherished; To my dismay they had all vanished, Leaving no trace behind.

Reluctant to face defeat I fathomed for the streams of powerThe humble prayers from a loving heartBut found instead the dry Parched bottom of a river.

Worse still, I understood I no longer followed A single word my friend said.

Our sky was overcast. Soon darkness stood between us. Now she began a new tale, I stood listening as though I followed her every word.

She saw through the pretension, But pitied my plight. It was terrible agony for both. We who had understood each other Amidst weal and woe for years

Recognized with a shooting pain That we didn’t have a common tongue anymore!

It grieved her the most That I sat there cold as marble. How could I tell her That my songs and tales Have gone with him. Nobody had told me of such a crisis; Else I would have come prepared.

Later that day, I felt like Unlocking my heart through tears; But not a droplet came out. Ah! The devil had robbed me of that too.

I sat there with her Like a cold, dry stone Powerless to move or speak While memories flooded my mind And craved for utterance.

At last she asked: “Who did death visit, anyway?” I sat sighing. She continued: “It’s always interesting To get ready for a merry trip.” And at that twilight hour A dove came and perched on her shoulder.

2

Responsibility

“It’s no joke to live life through”, My friend cautioned as we stood Under the ball tree listening to the leaves.

“I would have shown them, if I were a man!” I roared with animal rage And raised any hand as if to strike. The monster of anarchy in the campus That trod on my dreams of morrows And turned many a talented young man, The Gandhis and Einsteins of our campus Into a blind party parrot Repeating the dead slogans of yesterdays, Having no dream of his own. (The first thing he surrendered to the party was his dreams)

Forever forgetting why he is in the campus, Ever ing what the party can do to him. A seedy tramp in his twenties Never pausing to think or feel. Surely, he is learning the lessons of democracy!

“Who do you think is responsible For this merciless suppression of all that is fine and fresh In the young minds?” my friend queried. “These filthy politicians”, the reply came soon. “Really? Is it so simple? Are there no rays of hope?”

I could see in my minds’ eye Many a gem, our students Braving the sun and the rain, The party and its filth Keeping their roots And singing in the far sky As men who would calm any storm.

“Who is responsibe?” I asked myself. “Some lone traveller who had The courage to sow the seed of hope The patience to keep watch through And the ability to make a dream come true.”

3

As Bread to be Broken

Multitudes of them Gathered round with hope; He came and searched For his heart’s beloved.

There she was Standing all alone! A puny little thing In tattered rags, An ugly countenance With cold, lightless eyes.

He came closer Called her by name Took her by the hands And led the way to his home.

She couldn’t understand! Impossible it seemed: “Am I dreaming or not?” It didn’t make sense.

Days ed and months came.

The furnace of love Was ever glowing in the chamber; He never left her side For fear the fire might die out.

And so slowly, little by little A ray of brightness came out. He was all hope for her, For she was his life Embodiment of him on earth.

He began to dream Of days ahead, when

He would live through her; Her songs about him Her thoughts around him And her deeds his desires.

Now the time is ripe For the long awaited avowal; He took her in his arms An embrace of everlasting love.

A long, deep look into the soul! It sent a fire through her nerves. He raised his hand, Blessed and marked her out With the sign of the Cross; Then he sent her out To where she was taken from As bread to be broken.

4

The Silent Night

Night spread the black mantle. The goddess of sleep lit her lamp; One by one they went to bed Only silence kept me company.

It was late, very late And still he was not coming. What prompted me to expect? A mystery only he can reveal.

There was no lamp burning To lead him to my door; No flowers, no incense, No music, no dance.

A broken vessel in a corner

With no hope of remoulding The sole treasure I owed To fill the vacuum of my cell.

A faded flower was there Like a baby fallen asleep Wounded and wearied For its mother was cross with it.

A piece of half-burned incense stick Reminded me of the bygone days When the lamp was lit And the flowers fresh.

I dared to hope That the night would not Without me gazing at him And he remoulding the broken vessel.

The night was far advancing There was no sound of him.

Fear peeped into my cell Whispering, “he might forget you”.

“It might be true”, said I Shivering like the banyan leaves; I’ve looked long Into the abyss of nothingness.

The dawn was approaching. A streak of light from afar Knocked at my windows I kept the door open.

A cool breeze caressed my cheeks, A sweet fragrance filled my room, Surely, he was coming.

Eagerly I stepped outside To meet him along the way. Alas! There was no sign of him, No sound of carols.

All alone I stood there Murmuring to myself What Fear had told.

5

The Agony

“Can you love me?” The question was shot at me When I least expected it. I looked away to escape Those searching, pleading eyes, And to look into the deep To see if there were any springs left.

It was a pathetic sight, Like the draught-ridden field Groaning for a drop of water.

I couldn’t utter a no, That would be death; Neither could I say yes Which would be suicide.

I was really caught And wanted to free Those agonizing eyes Seeking reassurance. But alas! There I was Face to face with them Fidgeting, dodging, pretending.

I knew there was no answer To such deadly queries.

When I was no longer sure Of a single thing about myself, When I couldn’t hold the parts together Or fulfill even the simplest promises, When all around me accusations rained, And I knew not what went wrong and why, When friends kept aloof for no reason And foes spread the nets far and wide, And everything seemed to be in a flux

How can I assure another Of the comfort of communion?

I weighed the pros and cons And found the dire consequences; I grasped the emptiness of words To communicate the depths. Still, choosing the lesser evil, I whispered, “I can!”

6

The Concert

“Sing a new Song to the Lord!”

O Lord, bind my strings, Set it ready for the concert. I fear to lift up my eyes For I am ugly and unclean.

A thousand songs were in my heart But today I find none; A thousand melodies in my mind Yet alas! No sound comes.

O master dear! Come and play on the lute For I’m tired of this barrenness; O Lord! Come and take me in your hands, Wash me and cleanse me.

Fasten me to your heart Attract me to your love Lest I may abandon you The Sun of my life For a little glow worm.

It is really a desert A desert without an oasis A dry and dusty affair That drains one’s sap of life.

Confusion comes in thousands And they engulf me like waves. Tiny, little woes unshared, multiplied Hound the mind in thousands.

Shattered by the storms of life Oh! Shepherd dear I stand before you.

Lead me with comion And grant me a new heart That I may sing a new song to Thee For ages and ages to come!

7

The tale of the sea

Holding the loving hand that cools The burning heat of the day I sat on the sea shore and mused.

Did the winged wind that flutter slowly Murmur news of hope in my ears? Did the sky that bends to touch the sea Send a radiant beam to me?

Suddenly the tank rose before me And I was inside it in no time. It was no fun To stand there for days In a pool of limestone.

“What is this for?” I inquired.

“It has started - the purgation,” The reply came soon.

I had no time to bother For there were so many canoes Bound for the other shore. My eyes were set On the radiant dawn Descending on the other shore.

I longed from the depth To be liberated and floating Fast with the others.

But there was no getting outside And I was so dismayed; Soon it’ll be dark Perhaps, I won’t be able To make it at all.

Then the breeze blew gently

And brought the sweet cadence Of a thousand hail Marys From a thousand white lilies On this side of the deep.

Slowly, the waves lulled me The tank burst open The sea sucked the lime. I was in no canoes, Yet was fast approaching The shore of radiance.

8

Conviction

You say you are convinced of my love?

That’s enough to make me Bright and breezy for an year And bear the burden of transience Ever so lightly and nimbly.

Enough to put me at ease Over thousand little worries That eat into my soul And leave me desolate;

Enough to restore the strength I lost on the way When you were sour with me And kept me at bay;

Enough to make me shower The radiance of a sweet smile On everyone who comes along, Yes, even the foxes and the peacocks;

Enough to make me dance Like light-winged butterflies Who bear their pied beauty On brittle robes of glory;

Enough to calm the storms Raging for no reason, And master the stiff With bridles of love.

9

Desert Dreams

It was all sand and dust With no grass to bless; No rain tree for a shade, Filling my heart with gloom; Yet I dared to dream dreams That would make me A laughing stock, if disclosed.

I dreamt of fragrant gardens In the middle of the vast desert With jasmine and daisy Musk rose and chrysanthemum Dancing in the breeze; Peepul and livy-divy Spreading their umbrellas For the weary ersby.

Yes, I dare to dream dreams About peace in the midst of war, Light in the heart of darkness, And hope in the ditch of despair. I dreamt of all the wounded, Weary, oppressed and betrayed Queuing up in thousands To take a healing dip In the pond of understanding And all embracing mercy.

Some were majestic in silence, Others exuding life in chatting But I heard them all Repeating the age old cry: “Do you love me?” “Yes! Yes! Yes!” came the chorus That crushed the walls of jealousies Suspicions and calumnies Compensating the days and nights

Of agony and alienation; Basking the soul in the light Of a million rising suns Never destined to set Ever ushering in joy unspeakable.

10

The Unknown

Miles and miles they stretch The long winding roads Taking the lone traveller To still weary ways.

Unexpected, untrodden Under the natural guise They offer the mighty The often sought mystery.

The way is longNo one knows how? Or is it short? Who is so sure?

Thousands in triumph

Have marched the way; But each in his own way Unobserved, unapplauded

The clouds were there Dreary and menacing; The lights were dimEnough to shatter the poor.

But many a foot in days of yore Has dared the storm and the mist. What shores they reached? Oh, enough to know they tried.

But the road still remains A challenge to each, Thick clouds and grey lights Shrouding the mysteries within.

11

Peace

Peace I leave with you, My peace I give you. Which way did it go? Who bribed it on the way?

Sure, peace is in the air, For the bombs placed it there. But who will bring it down? Alas! No Christ again, Save the one struggling in you and me.

What sacrifice remains to be offered To regain that which we lost? What prophet or saviour is there To lead us into the light?

Self after self, each to his fill, A spell should be cast To pull us off the track. Who says peace is so supreme Where piecemeal they go and barter?

Gone are the days of the sages, The rishis and sanyasis When the ruler and the ruled Could ask for a yajna To be offered for peace.

“It sounds pessimistic” I hear they murmur; “We have our own sages and yajnas.”

Amidst the thundering shouts Of mobs clamouring for rights He felt restless and uneasy.

He was drawn homewards,

Thoughts, impressions, reasons. Who or what is to blame? Where exactly did it start?

Rights come before duties, Illusions before realities. Hence the inevitable fruitPeace is driven backward For Fear to sound her trumpet.

12

Indolence

Like a sparrow in the bush It perched on a tiny twig On the tree of my life.

It remained calm and quiet And was no great disturbance. I seldom noticed it Except when it chirped And irritated a few of my visitors.

But such things happen. You can’t please everybody, Nor can you make adjustments always. I loved its chirping And thought it a rare pleasure Which seldom comes your way.

I saw no reason to destroy its nest When it laid some eggs And expected the offspring. We had become thick friends Who counted no cost To accommodate each other’s pleasure.

13

Love

O! Love, the sustaining force of life! Let me experience the warmth of your presence. The pangs of love are sweeter Than the cold indifference.

Love is risky. It is renunciation.

It may teach you hard lessons It’ll make your nights sleepless And your days mirthless.

It’ll take off your masks Pull you down from the pedestals And give you the shock of recognition.

It’ll put you in a fix And you’ll be baffled by its endless pranks. It’ll test you with fire And will command you to be honest.

Still Love is sweet; It’s comforting; It’ll give you The honey of life; You’ll find in it The joy of suffering And the pleasure of self-emptying.

14

Perfection

Aim the highest beyond your power Climb higher and higher Still looking for the higher.

Can man attain such perfection? And forget the human weakness so soon? What if you never reach that perfection? Ah! Lame excuse for lazy minds.

Perfection, even the divine one Attracts so strongly That the pains of hard work Seem sweet and desirable.

Perfection! The eternal thirst Hidden in every human soul

That divine element in us Fosters such noble thoughts Furnishing you the while With joy and fortitude.

There’s a joy in flying higher To that heavenly height beyond your reach And failure or success counts not here Save only the effort.

15

Birds of the Air

Wearied by the day’s long journey The traveller of the day was about to rest in the west; In vain did the cool breeze of May try To lessen the heat of careworn hearts; On a little mound of earth I sat gazing, wondering and brooding Over things that had been and would be.

The sky was unusually grey. Flocks and flocks of little nameless birds Hurried their flight homewards; The night advanced steadily Still the procession seemed endless.

They flew onwards with unshaken faith Sure of their way, sure of the abode;

Tomorrow never marred their dreams For they had learned to put their trust In him who keeps the lilies of the field And the sparrows of the air.

They did not betray their own For a worthless piece of land; There was none hungry or desolate For luxury was never their rule And harmony was ever their law.

Darkness stretched its arms around, The little birds were no more there; Yet I remained wondering About the distant lands they come from And the mysterious power That stirs them all to move in the same direction.

16

The Morning Star

In the grip of darkness The Earth mourned and grieved For liberation; Her searching eyes were looking For a redeemer.

A spark of fire from above The rose of God in Nazareth “Fiat O! Lord, For I am Thy handmaid.”

An empire collapsed, Another one arose; The Earth rejoiced For the Morning Star had risen And the feast of Light began!

17

The Word, the World and the Words

“In the beginning The Word was with God;” A word made the world And the Word came into the world.

The Word was the light of the world And the Word set man free; It healed him, strengthened him, Revived him and rectified him.

So did the Word that was God. What about the words?

Words have multiplied now; Millions are mutilated by them; Words, devoid of meaning

Pollute, fester and decay; Words without hearts Make men hollow; Words sharper than the sword Cut men to the heart.

Empowered with the spirit Words shall on Peace that es understanding.

18

From the Depths

Today I thanked the Lord From the depth of my heart For the gift of you, My God given gem! For this rarest of the rare friendships Over which the Lord keeps guard; For all the days of purgation He allowed in our lives, Those days which now seem Blessings parcelled in rough packs! For the many heavy, lonely days Which were lightened By the memory of a trusted companion.

For those fiery quarrels Which brought in its train

The healing magic of a loving touch, A kind word, and an affectionate bond; For the misunderstandings and miseries Which revealed my limitations And the need to learn new lessons in love.

For assuring me now That I have a kindred soul Who knows me as I am And treads the same path Extending Companionate understanding Matured through experience, Loving affection purified in fire, And a kinship that is uniquely yours.

Hereafter whenever I count my blessings A unique and precious one will be The Lord stood you, my gem, on my way To teach me the intimate lessons of love and life, And brighten my days for all eternity.

May He shine as light to your feet A tower of strength to your soul And grant your heart’s desires Today and forever!

19

I non-saw Him

I non-saw him, the Son of Man Sitting on the bank of the Babylon. He was speaking to a careless crowd In parables, in figures That they may see like the blind Hear like the deaf Understand like the fools And go away scoffing.

But I non-saw him Sitting on the bank of the Babylon His words like a dove Spreading wings of fire Burning, breaking and moulding; I am moulting in the heat still.

20

Green Dreams

They came to me as a flock Fourteen of them Whispering in silence: “Take us home, please! Plant us in the sunlight Keep us hot day and night.”

“You are only buds; What use are you?”

“All s are losers; Take us just as we are And keep us in the sun!”

“What use are these buds to you?” Asked my neighbours.

“I am going to plant them.” “Funny!” they laughed.

I took them home Planted them in the backyard On a patch of arid land With plenty of sunshine at noon And hot tears at night.

21

Eternity

That song is gone! I heard it this morning, But now it is gone.

All things are ing Days bloom and wither away; Today will soon And give birth to Tomorrow; Days and nights, months and years All are ing.

Flowers bloom and fade, Fragrance comes and goes; All things are transitory, All mere fleeting shadows!

But where do they go? And how do they die?

Yesterday’s wounds and woes Today’s half-forgotten memories; The songs and joys of the heart Go swift as lightening.

But where do they go? And how do they die?

A new earth and a new heaven Where there is no pain, no tears No bribery, no injustice, Nothing harsh, nothing rough All things away to embrace that blissful ease.

There will be only One Day, One Moment, One Second, Oh, blessed Eternity! The hope of man on earth!

22

I am sorry

I am sorry that I exist as a woman In a society that claims It has empowered women. I am sorry that I am fearless Even though I am a woman. I am sorry that I am open-minded Even though I am a woman. I am sorry that I am talented Even though I am a woman.

I am sorry I prefer to be independent Even though I am a woman. I am sorry I can discern corn from chaff Even though I am a woman.

I am sorry I refuse to be flattered

Even though I am a woman. I am sorry I refuse to be humiliated Even though I am a woman. I am sorry I refuse to be intimidated Even though I am a woman.

I am sorry I refuse to be silent Even though that is what you expect of me. I am sorry I dare to be different Even though you don’t expect it from me.

23

Mr. Sorry

He is condescending To let her praise his generosity. He is loving and kind When she is like a pampered pet.

When he makes mistakes It is an oversight And she must say, “sorry” Because she did not prevent it.

When she makes mistakes It is carelessness And she must say, “sorry” Because she is an adult And still behaves foolishly.

When he forgets things It is due to stress and strain; When she forgets things It is sheer audacity And we must teach her a lesson.

24

Rosemary’s Gift

I met rosemary only the other day. I was at the end of a long queue At the gastroenterologist’s And so was she.

I was surprised to find her there. She was only three years old And what gastroenterological recipe She requires? I wondered. She was brimming with joy, Singing and dancing to herself, Dashing like little birds Making her mom annoyed.

I was curious to know What virus has bitten her.

I beckoned. She came running, Put her little head on my lap And asked, “what is this?” I said, “A purse.” “? What’s inside?” “Cash,” said I. “Kass? Can I have a look?” “rosemaryyy….,” her mother was calling.

She did not respond.

“Please, show me,” she pleaded. “Will you ask for it?” “Never! I’m a good kid.” I opened the purse; She looked into it And clapped her little hands.

“Can I sing you a song?” I was overjoyed and nodded. She sang a lovely song About a little girl’s garden,

Of daisies and lilies Blooming and dancing Solely for a rosy little girl Living in a sweet little valley.

“Very good!” I said. “Very guuuud,” she echoed. Coming closer, she whispered: “Can I kiss you once?” “Yes please!!!” She hugged me like a cherubim And ran to her ma Leaving me in a heavenly bliss.

25

The Flower Touch

You helped me to tide over A wave that threatened to devour My soul and my mind Leaving me shattered into bits and pieces For crows to peck at.

Yes, my yellow clad friend, It’s a true tale of comion Bestowed on a lonely traveller In a barren land; Perhaps, you know it not For it is so like you to be always so!

But I cannot forget the day You chose to give me Your unforgettable flower-touch

And wipe off the stains of woes From the ravines of my heart.

It was a Thursday morning in March. I was hurrying to my busy world With a load of things-to-do-today And things-not-finished-yesterday Yet nothing sticking in my head Except the nagging, lingering pain of being All, all alone in the wide world Of billions of jackals and wolves.

I was rushing down the tarred slopes Like a furious hurricane, When down you descended From the lovely green canopy On to my frail right shoulder Like an angel divine Whispering your heavenly mantras Of love unconditional, Bringing summer showers

To a barren desolate land.

26

Oh! Ousu!

Oh! Ousu, the heavenly dancer! My sweet little angel! Where did you learn this divine art?

You came and eased your tender head on my lap After those captivating movements Etched on my heart like those Of the Babe of Bethlehem!

Oh! What tender beauty was born there! A balm to sad minds, wiping off woes With sweet waters of serene streams, Bringing rainbow smiles in our eyes Weeping over the loss of the dear departed.

Oh!Ousu, my angel of pure joy!

What are you really? Sure, you are no common clay Bewitched with the bad madness of the age.

Your laughter is to me A fresh bath in the river of forgetfulness, Healing wounds of yester years, And bringing the sounds of spring To all dejected hearts!

Oh! Ousu, you are a rare gift from heaven Hiding soothing symphonies in a two year old frame! What wonders there will be When you are two and twenty!

27

How can I?

How can I thank you for the gifts bestowed on me From the day of my conception till date? I came as the ninth in the family; I would not have seen the bright sun If born a little later in the timeline When people chanted, “We are one and we will have one!” I have always wondered at your timings Which leave men speechless!

An unkind virus incapacitated me at two And I would not have walked the smooth earth Had it not been for a mother who believed “Everything is possible for God!”

I would have remained illiterate for ever

Had it not been for a simple Carmelite nun Who whispered softly in my ears: “Don’t worry honey over this paralyzed hand; You can still write using the left hand as a prop And that is the way I have penned every word till now.” How can I thank you for the innumerable laurels That came my way through the magic of written words!

I was a mischievous child quick to retort And slow to be pleased With plenty of pride to keep me company. I would have ruined myself by now Had it not been for that deathbed blessing Of a wonderful father who knew how to care: “I leave you all to the maternal care of the Virgin Mother Whom I have served faithfully so far; This is the sole treasure I on to you, my children!” And thus it is that the most powerful woman on earth Was bound to safeguard and nurture A rebellious girl who never learns from her mistakes. How can I ever thank you properly

For the graces you showered on a foolish girl And presented her as a worthy individual!

Life has been more than gracious to me Unworthy though I am. I do regret that I couldn’t make it a better world, But I have no complaints as to my portion Which is always better than the best!