Month: July 2019

Baking a big cake,

Is an art.

Is a form of worship.

A cake is a dish,

Which used for celebrations or it is simply had to make one cheerful.

It brings merriment. A cake, with its design, cream layering,

Is enough to double up one’s quota of hunger.

The preparations which go into making it are enough to stir up all the good feelings in one’s heart.

The procurement of milk, flour, vanilla essence, eggs for baking a cake,

Makes me achieve that enlighten,

Which I wouldn’t get even after reaching Zen.

When the ingredients are mixed in together,

The mixture gives a particular beautiful smell.

The smell evokes a feeling that,

 I am having my breakfast,

Sitting on Lord’s lap in the heaven.

It is simply unbelievable,

What happiness baking a cake gives to the chef,

Can’t be explained in words.

It isn’t simply a chef’s job to bake cakes,

It’s his daily spirit of living.

Baking a cake,

At home is an adventure,

Which ends in happiness and laughter.

And when Ma takes it out of the oven,

The laughter and happiness bubbles up into many cheers and dances.

When the cake is kept to be cool, the heart dances with such an energy,

That when can the cake be had.

If it is a cake with a cream,

Then the happiness doubles up.

And then comes the moment when Ma cuts the cake and arranges the pieces on a plate.

Those are the moments of saying hip-hip-hooray aloud.

Baking a cake,

Is a privilege,

Is a destiny,

Which many don’t have.

And those who do,

Are luckier than they know of.

Adios!

Only for a moment,

The lights blinked,

They had lightened up the whole room,

Just an enlightenment lightens up the whole mind.

Only for a moment,

The fares went down,

Bringing in a wave of cheers,

Spreading happiness all around.

Only for a moment,

The feelings were true,

For they rarely are.

Only for a moment,

The world didn’t have any boundaries,

Only for a moment,

Even though it was imaginary.

Adios!

That day my mother was unmindful.

The atmosphere in home,

Was serious.

What happened when I came back,

In the afternoon from school,

And asked my sister why was it like that,

She told us,

“Mother has opened her old trunk”.

She got her sarees, blouses,

Many notebooks, small woollen sweater,

Letters from grandfather,

Her bangles, her own jewelleries,

Of yesteryears.

The open trunk has a smell of napthalenes.

With that she found a photo

Of Jesus, which was framed and kept covered in a cloth.

After her marriage ceremony was over,

My grandmother had given it to her saying-

“You put it on the wall,

In your new home.”

My mother always does not like to see Jesus put on a cross.

She said in her mind-“Already he is nailed,

Why to give him more trouble?”

Anyhow it was like that.

The photo of Jesus,

Till his bust,

Not on a cross,

Seeing that old photo in the trunk,

Mother lost her mind,

And murmured “Oh! Lord I have kept you locked in a trunk.”

She took the smell of it,

Kissed it.

Again kept it inside the trunk.

That old trunk became everyone’s interest in the house,

But seeing her word,

Nobody was ever daring,

To open and see her belongings in the trunk.

Just then mother entered the room,

With my quota of milk and biscuits.

She said to me-“Always bow to this trunk,

And pray to Lord Jesus that you should be guided by him.

Whatever attracts you,

Maybe a small pebble,

Maybe a small eraser,

Maybe an old coin,

Just make a box for them,

And like this trunk, keep it with you always and forever.

See now I have opened this trunk,

I have found my childhood,

My teen,

And my Jesus in it.

That time I did not put it on the wall,

Now I am feeling so very sad,

That for so many years,

I have not touched it,

Still he has given me my children, my husband,

My home, my new life,

And remained unbothered.

Because he knows me.

Adios! 

The days are evergreen and over powerful.

Because it is winter vacation.

In this vacation,

There comes Christmas celebrations.

It means a lot and,

It means everything is on.

Cakes are daily baked,

Parents are planning surprise gifts,

Playing out in the winter sun.

Pullovers, jackets and coats and pants,

Daily reading one Christmas story book.

Bineny is not happy.

She is asking her father,

To take her to that place.

Where reindeers can be found.

She has read in a book,

Striking a reindeer’s hooves,

On the snow,

It gives,

Different coloured gems of different shapes.

Mother Mary also heard her pray,

Because in her pray,

She had already asked God,

About the reindeer.

Accordingly, The Mother,

Made Bineny’s own mother,

To buy some sorts of that asking.

She went to a jeweller,

And bought many imitated stones,

Which were reddish tinge,

Greenish blue,

Violet, orange and yellow.

She covered the box in a gift wrap,

And surprised her.

Beniny was absolutely happy, ecstatic, cried,

Kissed her mother,

Kissed Jesus.

Then suddenly she asked-

“What about the reindeers?”

Mother told-“The reindeers are having fever,

Because snowfall is high.

This year not,

We will go there next year by.

Beniny was happy.

Adios!