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Friday, September 28, 2018

Freedom of Expression



I do not have a problem with people expressing their views, in fact I feel everyone should have the right to freely voice out what they think and feel.

The problem starts when the moment we express our views ( and that too in a very polite manner ) the other will reciprocate with unnecessary sarcasm, abusive language and ridicule. They make it their goal to either convince the other that THEIR view is the only right view or silence the other.

It's your right to disagree with another but that can be done in a graceful way too.
And silence should never be taken as submission.

And debates are all about speaking, expressing, and hearing the other.
They are not about shouting, suppressing the other's voice, not hearing another's view point and in general creating noise.

Social media gives us the freedom to express and interact. It saddens me when I see people becoming abusive on Twitter, Facebook and whatsapp.
I guess John Stuart Mill said it well:

"The peculiar evil of silencing the expression of an opinion is, that it is robbing the human race; posterity as well as the existing generation; those who dissent from the opinion, still more than those who hold it. If the opinion is right, they are deprived of the opportunity of exchanging error for truth: if wrong, they lose, what is almost as great a benefit, the clearer perception and livelier impression of truth, produced by its collision with error."
  - John Stuart Mill 

Tuesday, August 07, 2018

Nostalgia

Nostalgia is

When moments from past

Become the companions 

Of your today


Copyright Renu Vyas.

Friday, July 27, 2018

Non Existent


मेरे बोलों की आवाज़ किसी तक पहुँचती ही नहीं

मेरी शख्सियत को लोग देख ही नहीं पाते हैं...


मेरे अस्तित्व का कोई महत्व नहीं किसी के लिए

मुझ जैसे लोग अक्सर यूँ ही भुला दिए जाते हैं...


Copyright Renu Vyas

Saturday, July 21, 2018

Shattered Dreams

Millions of dreams shattered

The death of each buried deep inside

So many graves, I visit each night


Copyright Renu Vyas

Odd Ones

I am an ancient square

In this modern circle of life

Awkward, mis shaped

And not fitting in


Copyright Renu Vyas

Friday, July 20, 2018

Letting Go..


Sitting by the sea side

I let my heart bleed out 

All its agony and pain 

One wave at a time....


Copyright Renu Vyas


Saturday, July 14, 2018

Changing Shapes


I never really knew love

People only love 

If you mould yourself

To their expectations

Sadly, I am always

Changing shapes


© Copyright Renu Vyas

Saturday, June 30, 2018

My Flight




I flew, leaving behind
My inhibitions for you
But you were not there
To notice my wings

© Copyright Renu Vyas

Sunday, June 17, 2018

Silent Conversations



Sometimes in between our conversations

Deep inside, in those little pauses

Lies a whole new dimension

Where the silence speaks

A language of it's own

Whispering all that is left unsaid

You just need to stay quiet and listen

To the language of my heart

That only your heart can understand...


By Renu Vyas

Sunday, June 10, 2018

The Amaltaas Tree



Proud and strong
There's a tree that stands tall
I gaze at it in wonder
Amaltaas it is called

Defying the heat
It's flowers bloom
Their mild pleasant smell
Like a heavenly perfume

They sway here and there
In the gentle breeze
Attracting all to it
Always ready to please

A sign of nature's beauty
And a symbol of grace
The Amaltaas never fails
To bring a smile to my face

Renu Vyas


Sunday, May 13, 2018

Rain - Showers of Blessings




It is raining in Pune today. A much needed relief after the hot spell we have had.
I have always loved rains. I know a lot of people who say they feel depressed when it rains. The grey clouds seem drab to them but to me they add an element of mystery.  I absolutely love it when it rains. For me, rain means rainbows, long drives on deserted roads away from the chaos of the city, paper boats and the laughter on children’s faces as they jump and splash around in the puddles. It means hot “Pakoras” and some ginger tea as I sit by the window watching the water run down the window panes.

I love the sound it makes.. the constant rhythm that is regular only in its randomness  fascinates me. After a while you cease to notice the noise that surrounds you and realize that rain has its own kind of silence, the kind where you can get lost in your own thoughts..the silence that invites your imagination to wander to all those places.. there is a privacy in rain..one just has to connect with it to feel it.

I love being out in the rain too. That soft satin touch on my skin invigorates me and I love the way it envelops me in itself, washing away the negativity and debris of daily life. The world seems so much more cleaner after the rain. The colours become more vibrant and alive, the landscapes get that surreal quality that is so appealing and the heavenly smell of wet earth.

For a person like me, who appreciates the beauty of nature, and all the blessings that comes with it..rain  is life in all its varied forms. It is sheer poetry and the nostalgia of all that was or could have been.

I know it may sound weird to some but I love thunderstorms too. They give me this euphoric emotional release. They make me feel alive.

Yes, I love rains.

Saturday, May 12, 2018

कल रात वो लड़की बहुत याद आई...



कल रात एक सांवली सी लड़की बहुत याद आई 
मैं चुपके से फिर एक बार अपने बचपन में लौट आयी. . 

मिली मुझे एक बार फिर  वो मासूम सी परी 
थोड़ी शरारती , थोड़ी नादान , पर बातों की खरी 
बुनती थी सुन्दर सपने , रहती खयालों में घिरी

ज़माने की सच्चाई को वो कहाँ कभी समझ पायी 
कल रात वो सांवली सी लड़की बहुत याद आयी.. 

मन हुआ उसे झंझोड़ के मैं हकीकत को बताऊँ 
आँखों पे पड़ा सुनहरा पर्दा  खींच के हटाऊँ 
ख्वाबों की हसीं नींद से उसको मैं जगाऊँ 

पर लाचार, ठगी सी, मैं कुछ भी तो ना कर पायी 
कल रात वो सांवली सी लड़की बहुत याद आयी.  .

दिल चाहा कि उसे मैं अपना परिचय दे आऊं 
उसका हूँ मैं ये आज, ये उसको भी बताऊँ
कब होता है सोचा हुआ, उसको ये समझाऊं 

ना कह सकी कुछ भी तो फिर इस आज में लौट आयी 
कल रात वो सांवली सी लड़की बहुत याद आयी.. 

© Copyright Renu Vyas
  

Thursday, May 10, 2018

Port Moresby – My Home Away From Home

My School Photograph

I have written about so many places and things here on my blog, but for some odd reason,  I had put my memories of Papua New Guinea on hold. It was as if my mind had somehow blocked them.

Today I came across a few old photographs from my life in Port Moresby and it was as if a floodgate had opened. I felt like a fragile sand castle on the beach, that’s carefully built walls crashed and got carried away with the high tide of memories. My brain working overtime remembering all the lovely moments from that time back home..hold on..did I just say back home ? Yes, however much I might deny it, deep down the only place that ever felt like true home in my heart is and always will be Port Moresby.

I remember our house in Boroko. The houseboy Penny who defined the word loyalty, his wife Lucy who was a wonder at most things and a very gentle soul. I remember  the Hibiscus, gorgeous bougainvillaea, stunning sunsets, moo moo parties,  long dresses with bright big colourful floral  prints, the bird of paradise , the women always carrying their little babies in slings with baskets on their heads, Pidgeon English, beetle nuts,  red teeth and warm smiles..

I remember Skyline Drive In and seeing Clint Eastwood on the big screen for the first time and falling in love with him (that is until I saw John Travolta In Saturday Night Fever and Grease at Wards Cinema..sneaking off with my friends from school).

I remember Paga  Hill and Koki Market.  Shopping at Steamships and Burns Phillips, the long drives, the curves at Three Mile, Crystal Rapids, Brown River and Sunday outings to Ela beach..the heavenly smell of low tide..collecting shells on Taurama beach and putting the larger shells to my ears to hear the sound of the sea in them..
Mr.Riles

I studied at Port Moresby High School and made some great friends. I remember our Principal Mr. Terry Riles ( who I connected with once again after some 30+ years ). I remember how much I hated my French class though loved the English one with Mr. Jackson (and I had a secret crush on him too..haha), always looked forward to the school trips to Pari Village with my favourite teacher Mrs. Carol Kidu. I remember the lovely school dances, the plays, and the horrible detentions, and the awesome meat pies at the school canteen (and the tolly ice). I remember the 3 day school camps, the long hikes and being stung by Jellyfish.

Whenever I think of Port Moresby, the two songs that come to my mind are “Pearly Shells” by Nora Aunor and “Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head” by John Farnham. I would give anything to go back to that time in Port Moresby, but like everything else in life, times change..thank god I have these great memories  that no one can take away from me..

Thursday, April 26, 2018

A Winter Morning


I wake up in a slow daze
Expecting the morning to be bright
But it is grey, drab and uninviting
And it feels just not right

My bones groan in protest
My body registers pains and aches
My mind says "get up and get ready"
Yet heart whispers "let sleep overtake"

So I snuggle back in my blanket
Wondering why the day is so cold
Then I shrug and tell myself, maybe
The Sun too like me, is getting old

© Copyright Renu Vyas

Monday, April 23, 2018

The Housewife


Once there was a woman who hardly existed. Her presence was so ubiquitous that people always took her for granted. She fought to give herself some visibility but slowly and gradually she became invisible. Her personality slipping slowly into obscurity.

She was the woman who gave love, and cared for all unconditionally and yet she was never the center of focus. It was as if she was meant for the sidelines. The person your peripheral vision could see but you never really noticed because people prefer to stay focused on the center.

Her efforts more often than not went unrecognized and yet she chose to put others physical and emotional needs before her own while remaining invisible all the time.

She was a housewife.