Published on Channillo

Love and Its Irony and other poems

By Sumisha Chandan

Series Info

Table of Contents

Discussion

Series Description:
The words put on paper,
Always matter when unwritten
After its been penned down,
Its applauded from within
Once you give it the place it deserves .
You have words coming
Towards you to be written 
Category: Poetry
Updated: Daily
Status: Upcoming

Author Bio For Sumisha Chandan:
About the Poet:

Sumisha Chandan was born in Mumbai on the 18th of March , 1981.Aspired to be an artist of colors, however painted with words instead.

http://channillo.com/series/love-and-its-irony-and-other-poems/

The Incompetent Tiger by Sumisha Chandan.A Book Release on 28th Jan 2016

The Incompetent Tiger by Sumisha Chandan

A ray of light towards the horizon seems far off, however Pyarelal wants to get there before a problem could take him there instead. He would want to end it himself before anyone else would. An end delightful instead of a cheerless one. There are ways to get there, an impossible feat to accomplish easier done with a rope or a bottle of poison, however finding different adventurous ways to die is a list of unwanted suicide attempts, a want nevertheless fulfilled by the will of circumstances uncalled for.

Author Bio:

Sumisha Chandan (1981 to present) was born in Mumbai. An avid reader churned words into books in an unconscious effort of writing one. With time, the work comes out alive, and with patience comes prosperity. The want to add color into a life, a little blessed otherwise was the only reason to write anything but books. With a story comes characters, and with a central character you get a fascinating, intermingling life weaved together to call it just a book. With many genres into being mine is Indian fiction aspiring to culminate with historical fiction. With aspirations for my poetry book and my first novel "The Incompetent Tiger" releasing on 28 Jan 2016, I want to write a few more.

Death

Death is knocking at your door

waiting for you, but your whereabouts he does not know.

Suddenly you want to live,

you open the door, and say, "No one’s in".

Death enters your house.

asks for you , says, "I want you"

You look into the eyes of death

& say, "Let me live for a minute

I shall tell you my story

& then let’s decide if its death or glory."

Suddenly death walks away, says

"Write it down. I don’t have time for all this.

I can’t listen to stories,

have a strong heart, Let me take away your glory"

Death gets confused as he has been assigned a deal

Asks you, "If you could come, please"

But a man if he wants to live he never gives up,

Never let's death take away his life's glory.

Life

When life comes to you it doesn’t knock the door,

you have to understand its ways,

How it works for you when you are sad?

How it gives respite when you go mad?

Life comes with a story

And makes your life complete

With or without glory,

Death takes away life

but life gives meaning to death

It is also called “the end".

So never start a story for an end

Give it time, let it change its course

Let life live, let it motivate you and

then only can you say bye to death

Let that be your story.

Love and its Irony

Love and its Irony and Other Poems by Sumisha Chandan

Love and its Irony and other Peoms by Sumisha Chandan

The words put on paper, 

Always matter when unwritten 

After its been penned down, 

Its applauded from within 

Once you give it the place it deserves. 

You have words coming 

Towards you to be written

Kindle Edition, First, 50 pagesPublished January 14th 2016 by Amazon Digital Services, Inc

ASIN  B01AMFMW5S

Edition Language: English

Hampi - The Resurrected Ruins

Hampi:

The Ruins Raised and Shaped, Not Contrary To Our Senses

          In the year 1510, the capital city of Vijaynagar Empire, Hampi had a bazaar where rubies from across the country were being sold, and the King Krishna Deva Raya bought the same in gold. While watching him leave the bazaar, everybody were astonished to see the king in the market, and were delighted as well with the fact that their king did such small things to ensure trade happens in the empire.

           Lord Rama had killed Vali in Hampi to help Sugreeva long time back before sending Hanuman to Lanka to save Sita. Sugreeva was helping Rama, and he wanted his kingdom back. Years later King Krishna Deva Raya created a golden era where barter system were not killing for empires, but trading goods for goods was the main design of the society. Peace prevailed then, and money came in later. The golden era lasted from 1529-1570.

1565

          Hampi had seen worst days before it was ruined by the Sultans of Deccan in the year 1565.However, this time a city was looted for 6 months and still has its ruins worshipped, the markets destroyed, the temples turned to dust. In the year 1565, the downfall of the Tuluva Dynasty troubled two individuals the most, one a Muslim boy who came with the sultans and a Hindu girl, a daughter to a pandit of Balakrishna temple. The city was being looted, and this boy was a part of the Sultan's army. He was a part of a big loot that came to destroy the Balkrishna temple, saw the image of a child holding butter in hand, and stopped there watching .The pandit's daughter meanwhile was being dragged by the other looters to throw the whole family out, and start the destruction of the temple that was built to consecrate the image the sultan warrior kept watching. The girl screeched and his attention went to his friends doing their job they were meant for. He watched her, and she kept looking at him for help, while the men dragging the girl away. They kept looking and looking till he realized that she was asking for his help. A man of his stature wouldn't do such atrocities to women, a temple for him was meant to be destroyed as he was a Muslim. The heart works differently when you are confused about the feelings that come your way, and instead of ignoring her, he removed the image of the child he saw, and ran to give it to her. He helped her escape with the image and legend says their friendship lasted only for a few days. The pandit lost her daughter and the sultan was murdered by his own men.

2015

          In 2015, Sana read about 5 Senses Tours, a guided motorcycle & experiential tourism Company in a travel magazine, and decided to come to India for this trip with her friends. A biker herself, she was hardcore adventure nethusiast. She loved travelling and the idea of going to an exotic place like Hampi was something unique on a motorbike. She read about Hampi history, the Tuluva Dynasty military warriors, Hampi boulders, and Hampi tourist attractions. She was a Muslim but was keen on seeing Hampi & the ruined temples. The distance between Bangalore and Hampi was 617 kms and a total of 1300 kms of riding was included in the itinerary. Hampi weather was also quite tolerable in September with cloudy skies and little rainfall.

          Sana decided on going to India before her friends could come. They were keen on the Hampi festival celebrated every year in November; however she wanted to go on the motorbike tour. She reached on time to Bangalore to take the much awaited bike tour she begged her friends to join, however she had to go solo. Sana reached on time and they had to start but had to wait for a man who came in a little late. He introduced himself as Abhi, mingled with everyone and they started off on a good note.

Day 1:

         

          With 10 people onboard, they started the tour on day 1 towards Chitradurga that is 200 kilometers away from Bangalore .Before that, they stopped by at Tumkur for breakfast after riding via the NH 4 highway. Tumkur is surrounded by coconut trees and is a high ground for pulses, millets and oil seeds.Arecanut is especially grown here. They headed towards Chitradurga as the itinerary mentioned. They learnt through their guides about the history of the Chitradurga Fort. With 8 kilometers of distance, and 1500 hectares of space covered, Abhi was quite fascinated by the four invisible passages, and 35 secret pathways designed in the fort by the different dynasties such as  the Rashtrakutas,  the chalukayas , Hoysalas and Nayaks. Sana, on the other hand, enjoyed the battle ground , the feel of the story of Bhima and the demons Hidimba fighting there, and was amused by the belief the  people had about the Hampi boulders being a part of  arsenal used then.

          After having a generous amount of ghee in their south Indian lunch, and missing out on a nap they head towards Hadagali, a village 122 kilometers far from the battle ground of boulder armory, where they stay in tents on a farm house on a hill located very close to a serene lake noticeable from the top.

          The beautiful view, and the exhausting tour with the mental incapability of taking enough history of the place into your system, all the bikers rested till the next day, where Sloth bears would rouse them up properly after a 135 kilometers of stint like a wanderer.

Day 2

          The bear sanctuary in Hampi is a stimulating sanctuary, 20 kilometers away from a hotel they booked in Hampi, where they stay for 3 days with a rich itinerary of a tour of Royal, and religious assets of the Unesco Heritage Site of Hampi still awaiting them. Till then, Sloth bears give them company at Daroji Bear Sanctuary with other guests being the leopard, star tortoise, hyenas, jackals and the porcupine.

          The hotel in Hampi was the place, to reminisce about the jaunt at the sanctuary, and to anticipate another day full of revelations they don't get to know only as written on the itinerary. Experience is what makes a journey, how it turns out to be, and the people ride that event only when they come close to it. The bikes lead them to that event, however far it can be.

Day 3

          The River Tungabhadra was at first named Pampa. Hampi is a Kannada word that was synonymous to Pampa. The third day was a start to a beautiful walk near the Tungabhadra River that ended with enough wandering around religious places, cultural sites, hand crafted temples while carrying on shopping at a market place in Hampi.

          Everywhere they went; local food was spread across like a platter with a necessary dollop of ghee. The much needed walk, later culminated into a nomadic stroll with royalty by their side, and courts coming out live like the big screen, with military structures working there unstirred, to take on the battles they fought everyday with their enemies. The guides did their bit to take them all into a moment where they were in the Vijaynagar Empire during the time of the capture by the Sultans, and the ruins that came alive in those 6 months.

Day 4

          They headed towards the next day into the past of the legend of Ramayana. They start at Anjanadri hill, the birth place of Hanuman, and the monkey kingdom that is surrounded in the Kishkinda. Rishymukha Hills was another historical place where Rama first Hanuman. At the end of the day they work their way through Sugreeva's cave where Rama hid Sita's Jewels, and a spot where Sita's garment made streaks on the rock giving Rama a trace to find Sita. Sana was totally amused with the fact that there existed a monkey kingdom in Hampi. Abhi made sure she believed. The rest of the bikers waited to head to the hotel

Day 5

          The geographical route was coming to an end, and there was a simultaneous beginning of a historical ride, that took us around 150 kilometers. The Hampi history was like a scroll being revealed one by one, as we took the step towards yet another day. The bikers headed towards the cave temples in Badami designed well by the Chalukya Kings. The Agastya Lake is another delight, where red sandstone hills caught the bikers wide eyed. Paintings cover the ceiling of the cave temples in Badami. There are Sanskrit inscriptions on hillocks dating back to 543 CE in Badami.

          From Badami to Aihole, there is a distance of 34 kms and the 35th is surrounded with a sprinkle of a 100 stone temples set up in the 5th century. Biking for another 14 kms, you reach Paddatakal where the Visara style of Architecture creates a stir with the grandest of all temples located here.

Day 6

          Bullock cart rides on the sixth day of their tour, gave them a view of the village through a villagers eyes. After riding for several hours on fast bikes, the bullock cart ride was a slow relaxation journey into the lives of the people inhabiting the area for over 5000 years. There is a lot to explore near the Anegundi village, the best place to stay in Hampi, with lakes surrounding the village, quenching their farming needs. The handicrafts bazaar and a good picnic meal help them wind up their day.

Day 7:  The Last Day

The last day they have 340 kms to ride till Bangalore & they get to keep company for the next 8 hours. Keeping each other company every bike works their way towards their last stop together. The Hampi images in mind clicked, and stored would be reminisced forever. Abhi's bike comes closer to Sana's. He watches her on the bike with her hair flowing in the air. She looks gorgeous, and now that the tour is almost over, he thinks of making up by giving her a gift .He has a small child's image holding butter in hand he got from a souvenir shop in the handicraft's market. He gives her the gift, and they keep looking at each other on and off till they reach Bangalore. Legend says that this image was in the Balkrishna temple and now the original lies with the government.

Sana takes this image back to her country in Pakistan while Abhi, a Brahmin pandit goes on another tour with the "5 Senses Tours Company" with the hope of seeing her again someday.

                                                                                            

Quest to Break Free

We are poles apart, but together here in the middle of the forest,

In the middle of nothingness, that gives a whole new meaning to life,

The sounds we listen to in the forests, or the hypnotizing sights,

May not be what we will get to know at the next level of our lives,

Our nothingness will become a sense of touch we feel through others eyes

We get to know each other now; we shall be one when we are together then somehow

On a ride through the roving eyes of the beauty that will take us in instead

Of us taking in the feeling, we shall be the feeling in place of another.

Wandering Samaritan- Review

          Travel writing is a genre that has evolved in such a way, that there is no looking back. With political ruffles in the air, the tourism industry sure seems inadequate in a few areas of the world. However, traveling and writing is a profession people look up to, and envy the most. While traveling is a part of the travel industry, writing memorable travel stories is for chronicling those memoirs for others to delve into and enjoy. While some make it big , others try their traveling bout at least once in their lifetime.

          And then there are others who make an NGO, that surrounds these two factors of travel writing whilst adding kindness as the third important factor.

          Founded on the grounds of making an army of good, the Wandering Samaritans was started by Jason Mandl ( Founder & Executive Director) with a  special concept of taking that journey towards an act of kindness.

          The vagabond in you takes you to places that you don't even plan about. There are places well developed, while there are places rustic in their beauty and their culture. People need help in this world, and this hidden need is what we as Samaritans can delve into making it  the basic foundation of Wandering Samaritan.org. Here we travel, help and come out as wanderers with good memoirs that can be shared with the people who think traveling is only for adventure and rejuvenation. Knowing other people and understanding the situation you are in is a requisite of the army of travelers with good intentions.

          While you can apply, travel, get funded, and document your work with videos- text-images, the editing and sharing will be done by the NGO itself. Blocks of goodness that pile up with some more of goodness, the architectural genius thus created is an aesthetically crafted thought into an action by the wandering Samaritan, or the army of good.

-

The God's Wayfarer

- Traveling and Living it up in Srinagar

           

            Like a rolling stone I went down and about to a place I didn't know anything on. A mystery that a place brings to your soul takes you to a route that is untold. Untraveled places make you realize that you are like a vagabond and your path is a story that unfolds to everyone who has to listen to a commencement of disaster however, a pleasurable one.

            Srinagar, a place I wanted to go to anchor my belongings to take a route towards other destinations. A place I decided to stay not longer than a day. I would rent an apartment, keep few of my belongings there and walk the rickety thoroughfare of unknown journeys I planned in Jammu & Kashmir.Leh, Ladakh ,Gulmarg, Pahalgam,Kargil, Rangdum Gompa,Akhnoor, the whole of Zanskaar Valley and more. I had a compiled list of stints that I survived to not make it but I realized that Srinagar was an itinerant's wish list. The journey inside the heart of a Srinagar's inhabitant's mind was a roving journey of understanding nothing and exploring everything that seemed unimportant for a while. The traveler, nonetheless, has something to carry along with him as a souvenir in his mind, a meandering wisdom of nothingness is just about enough.

            I was a tourist when I took a road trip in April 2015 around Maharashtra but my Srinagar spell in July 2015 was an explorer's relocation gambit. I was better at traveling and exploring, so as to compare my solo travels. The road trip was a drifting phase while Srinagar was an arrangement to replace my life. I didn't choose Srinagar for this rearrangement but it decided on me from the time I was determined to leave Mumbai forever.

Prelude to my Travel Memoir

            A sudden glow on my face said I was enjoying the food but I had to see more, explore more but didn't get the inclination to. The whole experience of me living it up in Kashmir started with money problems that I had to face when I lost my mother because of a murderous disease like cancer. I lost her that was enough of loss that I had to bear and I needed a change. I had a loan of more than 3.00 lakhs on my head and I knew survival in Mumbai would eat my strength away and I would be left with nothing at all. So that day I decided to leave this city for a year where I could rent a place and live a life where money is not the concern I have every day and my senses would function for survival.

            I didn't choose this place but I felt that someone was calling me here as if everyone wanted me here. Psychic as it might sound but I never wanted to go to any place except Kashmir. I didn't have a plan like always. But I decided on the place when I called a person living in Srinagar to know about the rent system here. No deposit system and monthly rent only a paltry Rs 9000/-. I knew I would survive and decided on an impulse to book my ticket to Srinagar. I even booked a houseboat for two days to decide there if I shall be living here for a year or more or less...

            I came here alone only to find that all were closer to me than me and I liked this place instantly. A person from Mumbai or someplace else are treated the same here but if you are a Muslim, you are welcomed with lots of love. I am a convert Muslim only to know I was a revert Muslim like years ago when I was sitting with the first Muslim family I knew from Bhopal. They were not a good memory but that didn't keep me away from people of Srinagar or Muslims. Not at all. They make a good memoir...

Before the travelogue would take effect through my eye...

            I made my way towards packing and planning about my traverse from Mumbai to Srinagar by leaving what is not important and taking what was essential in living a normal life. I never left home for another home however this time I was in a trance doing my work like I was on a pilgrimage going towards my God, leaving it all here and living it up some other distant unknown place.

            I planned, I bought new clothes, I got a new duffel bag to carry all my stuff, I had in all eight bags with me for the commute and the meanderer in me knew it would not suffice till the end. I needed more. I needed what I didn't comprehend I needed and that would come later. I planned to sightsee a little then stay for a year nonetheless like a vagabond.

            I had time to plan out my vacation and my relocation. I thought I had time for exploration and the nomad in me wanted to be a rolling stone in the peaks, near the lakes, meandering the rivers, doing my adventure bit. I believed that time was there but the crucial part of returning back was soon, nevertheless. The migratory bird in me wanted to go further but the terrible political weather was a ruffle in the air.

            I reached the airport, my brother dropping me till there and taking charge till I reached my destination. I wanted him to know that I would take good care of myself and he wanted me back in ten days after sightseeing. I took off after he left me and after paying a hefty five thousand Indian rupees for the extra baggage that weighed 31 kilograms in all. After a long time I was travelling by Jet Airways and I felt nice with the food coming my way, with the extra coffee and tea. I liked it till Delhi and then the transfer till Srinagar was also very enjoyable.

In and Out of Me

            The itinerary was clear. I had booked a houseboat in the Dal Lake and thereafter I would go check out houses to rent and then take a nice walk towards the Shankacharya Forest range. The forest being a far away outcry I decided to take only to oblige myself some other day. I had planned a long walk and I made my way towards the Gate 11 of the Dal Lake to reach the side walk by a shikara (a small boat in Kashmir).

             A cruise is safer than a shikara ride but shikara rides at the Dal Lake are hypnotizing and mesmerizingly beautiful. They are both made for water however the shikara is more adventurous. The rowing, the sound of the water titillating your senses is a delightful feeling that you can never get on the biggest boat possible.

            The sidewalk was my path for another two hours and I walked like a wanderer who has not seen the world at all. I saw Kashmiri apple trees, flowers, small gardens on the way. I returned in a rickshaw, stopped again, bought some clothes and some dried fruit sweet meats enjoyed the walk till Gate 11 to go through the long shikara ride once again. The more I went out I knew I would get shikara rides twice, to and fro.

The Rushing Water & the Shikara

            When I reached Srinagar, I was taken to the Dal Lake by taxi and was given a good welcome. When I reached the lake I presupposed that I would be taken to the houseboat in the car thinking that all the houseboats might be very close to the bank (as ignorant as it may sound) however I was in for a surprise when I was taken in a shikara to the houseboat. I was a little wary about my belongings falling into the water as they kept my baggage near the tip of the shikara. A shikara is a small boat that takes you to the big one where you become a feature of for a few predetermined moments that become an era.  

            While going towards my houseboat I wondered how it will look and kept asking my shikara wala where the houseboat is and how does it look. While clicking snaps I realized I was missing out on the compelling part. The sounds of the beautiful water being stirred by the rowing of the shikarawala, the enchanting things to see on a lake were what I was missing out on. The lake had a stunning serene feeling to it. The water did not stir till it was trampled with and shikarawalas always worked towards troubling the serene water to make the tranquil water sounds that take you further ahead. The whole atmosphere is arresting whether you are still in water or are being taken to each and every beautiful place on the shikara. A very delightful welcome on the shikara got me to my houseboat and from there on I was on a ride for two days.

             A ride I can never forget because it is instilled in my memory with a mesmerizing stamp of serenity. I still feel in harmony with myself and my life while writing about the Dal Lake. I didn't know when I reached the houseboat that I can take a shikara ride for two hours and enjoy that lovely feeling all over again. So on the day I reached in the evening I was told I can go for a nice boat ride and I promptly said," No." I didn't know I would spend so much after that day on a simple boat ride.

            While thinking about not going on the boat ride I decided on asking a few more questions about the boat ride. I should be glad I was ignorant as I went out of my room just to decide on saying yes for a two hour impressive shikara ride.

            I was fascinated by the occurrence and reoccurrence of something I didn't plan. I sat behind, comfortable on the sofa of the shikara and I was taken to almost every corner of the huge Dal Lake. When I saw the beauty that lied right in front of my eyes I decided to look everywhere the same way. I met myself there, I met the Almighty there. It was heaven, not just a piece of it but every inch of paradise was there in Srinagar. That is what I believe in, like everyone does when I saw what hypnotizing and fascinating the scenes were that lay here, there & everywhere.

            I saw people selling seekh kebabs, jewellery, kehwa and saffron. I saw a market created in the lake where you could get charming Kashmiri carpets and shawls. The market was full of dry fruit stores and delightful Kashmiri clothes. I bought a surma, pearl earrings, bought a Kashmiri carpet and ate seekh kebabs on my way back to the houseboat.

Back in Mumbai

So I wrote after reaching Mumbai back after a small stint in the relocation gambit.

            While writing a review for this beautiful houseboat on Dal Lake, I was mesmerized and shivered with awe about the fact that I was right in the heart of Kashmir, in Srinagar. I wanted to write all that I knew about Kashmir right there but my heart wanted to talk about this particular person who made me feel like home the minute I entered the houseboat on the 20th of July 2015.

            The best part about this trip started when I started talking to people and those two people I met were my brother Maqbool Bhaijaan and a child, Muhammad Abrar who welcomed me like no one did in Lake Victoria, Srinagar. They made me feel like I am staying at my own place, do what I like, eat what I prefer and just sit in that beautiful shikara and get mesmerized by the beauty of Dal Lake. The rowing on the boat, the serene sound and rushing of water, the people selling every possible thing on boat is exquisite grub for your senses. I went on the shikara ride because of the way the people at the houseboat treated me. I would be secluded in the houseboat and I would just write my way through the night but I wanted to go for this ride like forever. When I entered the houseboat I was a little scared that being alone would trouble me a lot but my brother in Srinagar made me feel at home. Maqbool bhai , was the person who was best at the kind of service you need and get in a seven star hotel .He can be your best guide, he gives you the best advice on where to shop and what to do when in Srinagar. His family is at Gulmarg, 6 hours away from Srinagar and he stays in Lake Victoria, a place where you will be so much in awe with the splendor that surrounds you with the high peak mountains, the serene lake and the beautiful people in their charming Kashmiri avatar. With the people being so pleasant towards you, this houseboat is the right place to live in Srinagar. In addition to this welcome, you will get to meet this child who will receive you like a friend does with open arms and the impression gets embossed then and there.

            On 24th July 2015, I wrote that writing a review was always on my mind and I didn't want to not. I just wanted to and I knew how to by thanking them in a special way cause they were the ones I made an impression with on Srinagar.

And so the story began...

Prelude to my Travel Memoir

            When I saw myself in the mirror brushing my teeth after two days of not, I realized I had so much of food without it that I felt that I should and I looked good. A sudden glow on my face said I was enjoying the food but I had to see more than what just met the eye. The whole experience of me living it up in Kashmir started with money problems that I had to face when I lost my mother because of a murderous disease like cancer. I lost her that was enough of loss that I had to bear and I needed a change .I started working at a company at Nariman Point and decided to leave that place after I lost all my money travelling. I had a loan of more than 3.00 lacs on my head and I knew survival in Mumbai would eat my strength away and I would be left with nothing at all. So that day I decided I shall sell my mother's gold that was left in the cupboard , a few rings and a few bangles and leave this city for a year where I could rent  a place and live a life where money is not the concern I have every day and my senses would function for survival.

         I didn't choose this place but I felt that someone was calling me here as if everyone wanted me here. Psychic as it might sound but I never wanted to go to any place except Kashmir. I didn't have a plan like always. But I decided on the place when I called a person living in Srinagar to know about the rent system here. No deposit system and monthly rent only a Rs 9000/-. I knew I would survive  and decided on an impulse to book my ticket to Srinagar. I even booked a houseboat for two days to decide there if I shall be living here for a year or more or less...

       

     I came here alone only to find that all were closer to me than myself and I liked this place instantly. A person from Mumbai and someone from America are treated the same here but if you are a Muslim , you are welcomed with lots of love. I am a convert Muslim only to know I was a revert Muslim like years ago when I was sitting with the first Muslim family I knew from Bhopal. They were not a good memory but that didn't keep me away from people of Kashmir. Not at all. They make a good memoir...