Transcend

Transcend

my arms
tried reaching
the sky
in vain
I then,
gave
my mind
wings to fly

I steered
through
the clouds,
with the
strength
of my will

I let go
to find
new paths,
each breath
lead to
a new height

my heart
soared high
with the tune
of the wind
and
I exhaled

the spirit
glowed bright,
as if
it touched
the rays
of the sun,

I inhaled.

~ Aparna

Copyright

Creative Commons License
Midnighthues Poetry by Aparna Reddy is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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Haiku: Spring

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Photo Credit: Arya (my daughter)

Haiku: Spring

Spring sprinkles:
wild flowers and cheer,
renewed harmony.

~ Aparna

Copyright

Creative Commons License
Midnighthues Poetry by Aparna Reddy is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Haiku: Evening Sky

Haiku: Evening Sky

azure stage is set:
dramatic scenes unfold,
lighting designer- sun.

~ Aparna

Copyright

Creative Commons License
Midnighthues Poetry by Aparna Reddy is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

The evening sky is so dynamic, each direction can present a dramatic scene. I could not resist pulling out my iPhone and capturing these Spendid scenes!

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San Francisco

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my random iPhone click

San Francisco

clanking cable cars,
running on crooked streets,
down Union Square

Muni’s hissing halts,
pedestrians in hundreds,
on bustling Van Ness St.

laughing Buddhas,
standing in store windows,
beckon you to Chinatown

cannot miss the aroma
of clam chowder, wafting
through Fishermen’s Wharf

seagulls on Pier 39,
perfectly dressed in white,
awaiting tourists’ spill

a sunny afternoon
walk on the water’s edge,
the Presidio stands tall

the iconic structure
of the Golden Gate glistens,
from the misty bay

Oh San Francisco,
Tony Bennett’s darling city,
you are like none other!

~ Aparna

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Creative Commons License
Midnighthues Poetry by Aparna Reddy is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

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Courtesy: Sapna Reddy Photography

Jamaal ( a short story in verse)

Jamaal

Growing up in a beautiful idyllic place,
my dear friends and I wandered
freely in the wilderness.
Each day we came back from school,
we ran outside into the woods,
exploring every little nook,
for silly little things, curious
inquisitive and adventurous-
fear never came about with us.
Jamaal was a part of this
childhood that we friends
each one of us cherish.
Who he was we knew not
where he came from, a big mystery
In our eyes she (he) a born naturalist
and a Braveheart…A transvestite
he was- who led a simple secluded life,
talking to people passing by
and herding goats in the day.
His goats went hither and thither
on many gorgeous golden days,
She (he) sat on the velvety grass
under a Babul tree, not far from
my bedroom’s window view
He called on them with his
loud gruffly maternal voice, they
flocked back when they heard him
With his paan stained teeth he gave
the most charming grin, his somewhat
white stubble, glistened in the sun,
“Baby, did you come back from Ischool” ?
His voice with full of affection would say,
“Don’t walk past there, there are
hissing big hooded snakes”, One,
he said he captured and threw
him in a jar and invited us all,
to get one glimpse of it by his den.
His den was small with several
exotic things tucked every where.
He would have shells and colored stones,
healing powers in peacock feathers,
he said he bestowed upon them:
willing to generously part with them
when one of us pestered our whims on him!
Every thing he collected had a story to tell,
we would each settle every now and then,
to hear about his spine chilling adventures,
with our eyes wide open and minds still
as the goats slowed down to eat,
when the fireflies were almost about
to glow, he would look at the sky and yell
“Baby time to go home now, the mongoose
will come seeking the slithery hooded ones”.
We would wistfully look around,
thinking about how dreadful it will be
to go home and get our homework done.
Our pockets loaded with sacred treasures,
we walked back home thinking about
the stories we would tell our friends
the next day back at school.
He would walk us back each to
our homes, telling our moms
what a pleasure we are each day!
Our mothers mighty pleased with him
gave him some spicy chutneys and curries
he would say he was looking forward
to having some delicious supper that day
before he walked away into the dark woods,
he would giggle with a twinkle in his eyes,
he would charmingly ask our mothers:
“Amma, winter is going to be very chill,
may I have some saris to be warm and still”
they always obliged and gave one away
this was our friend and wilderness guide: Jamal
who took us around each day, until we were older,
and stopped wandering yonder- because
fear set up a sturdy tent outside our homes,
staring at us with its googly eyes.

~ Aparna
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Midnighthues Poetry by Aparna Reddy is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

The Boy I Know

this mother I know
struggling with health,
her teen I know
struggling with school,
his mind I know
dealing many issues,
he comes with a load:
the load I see
erupting like a volcano,
his pain I feel
growing everyday,
he hides I think
behind a angry mask,
the mother I heard
is about to die,
this boy I know
will fall apart,
his spirit I feel
will be crushed-
I hope she finds,
peace as she leaves
I hope he learns,
to live a life without.

~ Aparna

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Creative Commons License
Midnighthues Poetry by Aparna Reddy is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

The Bazar: The Chronicles of Simple Women 4

The Bazar: The Chronicles of Simple Women 4

Child sex trafficking is rampant in many parts of the world today. Lack of optimal living conditions make the lives of these girls miserable. In some countries girls are seen as a burden and sometimes they are sold into this trade by their own family members and many times they are kidnapped or even lured into it. These innocent girls are treated like slaves and they don’t have a system that protects them. Many countries have passed laws to protect them but they don’t seem to make any difference. Social awareness can hopefully bring some hope and much needed change in their lives.

jingles cloud
deep pain,
psychedelic lights
override emotions,
not so noble
profession pinned
to her back -
scorn flashes brightly
defame clings
like a shadow
a sparkling lotus
is radiant
with roots hidden
in opaque water
wings stuck
by weight
of the dirt,
she treads on-
the destination
forever elusive.

~ Aparna

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Creative Commons License
Midnighthues Poetry by Aparna Reddy is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Recently, a movie was made by Nagesh Kukunoor based on a real life story. Here is a trailer of the movie,
“Lakshmi”: It is pretty graphic and disturbing.

An article in New York Times on Sex Trafficking:

http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2014/opinion/inside-the-brothels.html?smid=fb-nytimes&WT.z_sma=OP_ITB_20140305&bicmp=AD&bicmlukp=WT.mc_id&bicmst=1388552400000&bicmet=1420088400000&_r=0