The Glass Window

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Children of the street
dance in the first rain,
Screaming with delight.
Barefoot and half naked.

Surrounded with the comfort,
of money and fame..
I steal greedy glances through
the impersonal window frame.


Safety of Grandma’s arms and
the beauty of her weathered face -
I am trying to remember,
fighting hard to forget.

Trapped in the addictive -
golden coffin of success,
I live my death
in tiny instalments.



© Chhaya
I forbid any comparison between Slumdog Millionaire and this poem... :

31 comments:

डा.रूपेश श्रीवास्तव(Dr.Rupesh Shrivastava) August 18, 2009 at 11:49 PM  

छाया जी, आप अपने चिट्ठे की कड़ी को"भड़ास" पर लगा हुआ देख सकती हैं। आपकी रचनात्मकता से अब अधिकतम लोग लाभान्वित होंगे।
सादर
डा.रूपेश श्रीवास्तव

Uncommon Sense August 19, 2009 at 8:51 AM  

from what i understand is
about u looking thru the hospital door during ur gm's last days.. and it was raining at that time..

very beautifully written,

Chhaya August 19, 2009 at 8:54 AM  

@Uncommon Sense – Thnx.. but I guess the keywords of this poem is success, fame and the emptiness that is the price to pay for all that.
I think I wasn’t very efficient while conveying that feeling..

Whats In A Name August 19, 2009 at 10:09 AM  

Nicely written again. :-)
And glaaaaaddddd to see you updating so regularly.....

Uncommon Sense August 19, 2009 at 10:16 AM  

you have conveyed it well,, and i got it, its just tht i didnt mention it..

Chhaya August 19, 2009 at 10:35 AM  

@Dr. Rupesh - Thank u. i have linked you too

@What'sInAName - thnx... you did ask for it :D.. waise i will be missing from action for almost 20 days from next week..more about that later

@Maya (uncommon Sense) - Nice try dude :P

Vittaldas Prabhu August 19, 2009 at 10:44 AM  

Another scream, Chhaya? May I dare draw a comparison between "The Glass Window" and "As I look outside my window", my very first in my blog?

How much do we want to be there, than here. How much we yearn to be one with the soul of the world, yet our commitments and obligations tie us to the "golden coffin". How hard we try to break free, mustering all courage and strength trying to forget our identity and make the world our identity. Yet, the pull from our surroundings are too strong. It is a futile effort to swim upstream, fighting the strong currents of money, fame, success and attention.

This poem is short and sweet, and concisely connects with many individuals (if not all).

Cheers,
Vittal.

IdleMind August 19, 2009 at 11:10 AM  

I loved the scenes of children dancing on rains! (don't quite like the term 'street children' :( they are someone's sons and daughters too). They are another of nature's wonderful creations.

We're all in cold confines of the life. We don't really live ... but exist. I too envy gm's cozy and warm lap ... yet the bindaas water-play of kids in the neighbourhood ... awesome!!

Chhaya August 19, 2009 at 11:38 AM  

@VPrabhu – No. Not another scream. This is more like a ‘sigh’ . More like the reflections of the price paid for the sense of safety and comfort. Working hard to reach at a level and then wondering if the exchange was fair.
and yeah, I will surely read that post u mentioned.


@IdleMind – Its “Children of the Street”, rather than the “Street Children” ... I am not sure about the proper words to explain the difference I feel between the two terms.

and I used it to create a comparison. That would not have worked without shamelessly hinting towards the ‘condition’ outside the window.

I do agree they are someone’s kids and I didn’t mean it in any derogatory way.


The whole poem is dedicated to the irony of being poor in heart when you have almost everything you could ever wish for.

IdleMind August 19, 2009 at 12:04 PM  

I prefer 'children on the street' ... but that's just the way I feel.

The irony you write about is painful. With so much wealth around, we live poor lives. May be a rat-race chasing life's material gains ... the feel-good factor of life.

Whatever it is, it sucks real hard while the heart bleeds.

Chhaya August 19, 2009 at 12:07 PM  

@IdleMind - i know and i understand.. but that wud not make a powerful image.. see, u _are_ rattled by the "Children _of_ the street" :)

Writers get cruel sometimes...

i do agree about the rest

Quackster August 19, 2009 at 12:41 PM  

Interesting words pal! It has an ethereal feel to it that tugs at the soul. It is not quite clear yet so significant. This feeling is definitely superb and evokes an emotion not thought about daily. I like it!

BheJJa FrYY..! ;) August 19, 2009 at 1:54 PM  

poem ko do-char baar padhne ke baad,
hum ye decision pe aake atke hai ki,

ye poem me,
1). bachpan ke dino ki yaado ka pain bhara pada huwa hai.

2). grandma ko bhi yaad kiya hai, rainy nature ko bhi yaad kiya hai.. means koi apna bhi aaspaas nahi hai aisa ku6 hai..

aur..... bas..... ab over ho gaya.. isse jyada me soch nahi sakta..ye bhi kisika dimaag udhar liya tha tab socha tha....

touching theme of poem, poem not touching,

(disclaimer : hamare gaav me to bachhe fully naked hi barish ke majje luut te hai.. bachhe to bachhe hote hai.. mann ke sachhe hote hai :P)

Chhaya August 19, 2009 at 2:42 PM  

@Bheja Fry – the reference of Grandma is used as a metaphor here
and thank u for being honest about finding the poem “un-touching” :) .. I will try harder

vicious August 19, 2009 at 11:56 PM  

woww ..the images conveyed are quite strong !

AJai August 20, 2009 at 12:03 AM  

Nice poem... strange na... you'd think money should bring you a better life... but often we find that we get trapped in it. we miss out on life itself.. and we're waiting... waiting for the end.

BheJJa FrYY..! ;) August 20, 2009 at 9:51 AM  

arre.. meri baaton ko itna seriously mat lijiye..

wo kya hai ki aapke purane sab poems padhne ke baad AAPKE AANE WALE POEMS KE LIYE EXPECTATIONS bahot hi jyada hote hai.. so, compare to purane superb poems, ye poem thoda dull laga..

aur shayad me hi jyada expectations lagaye huwe hun... kya pata... baaki koi bola nahi hahi ye baat,, to meri baat ko seriously mat lijiye... :P

Chhaya August 20, 2009 at 10:01 AM  

@Vicious – thank u
@Ajai – exactly the feeling I was trying to convey
@Bheja – Hey! I take every comment very seriously!! I really liked the way you were so honest. actually someone reminded me very gently that I was writing on just 3 topics. I guess this is the reason my last two poems are off the usual-track.. I m trying to explore..
@John (quackster) – thanx buddy.

Tarun Goel August 20, 2009 at 10:06 AM  

Why so sad sad poem when Life is so so Beautiful, may be you have your own reasons but let us not spread the negativity around :P
After all, kids never know death or installments or anything else that is not meant for fun.

{hope u have understood the hidden message :D}

Chhaya August 20, 2009 at 10:17 AM  

@Tarun - i did get the message.. hope no one else did.. hehhe ;)

and about kids not knowing death.. cant stop myself from saying that all kids are not alike.. :) .. i did write a poem touching this topic.. try to read when u have time - The Last Bus

Tarun Goel August 20, 2009 at 10:23 AM  

Definitely read it, but how did you do that??
Plz tell me how to do a hyperlink appear as a hyperlink and not a full link in the comments section???

Chhaya August 20, 2009 at 10:39 AM  

@Tarun – lol... u forgot that I am a techie ;) .. well, u don’t need to be one to put that link.. here goes the how to –
write


*<*a href="http://shadowy-dreams.blogspot.com/2008/12/last-bus.html”> The Last Bus *<*/a>




Dont forget to remove the asterisk (“ * “)

replace the links and the text to be displayed :)

Vittaldas Prabhu August 20, 2009 at 12:48 PM  

There is no way one can win against you in the war of words. :-) I asked if it was a "scream" and you say it was a "sigh"! And you are welcome to read the entry in my blog. As I look outside my window and this one for sure is a sigh. I found similarity in thoughts connecting the two entries.

Chhaya August 20, 2009 at 12:53 PM  

@VP - hehe.. i am glad what i said made sense to you.. sometimes i am totally un-understandable...

Brosreview August 20, 2009 at 5:47 PM  

A good theme to talk about. You've done justice in a prosey manner. Re-edit it, tweak it a bit, and the essence of it, the deep feel of it shall emerge up. Keep writing, "artist"!

D.Dasgupta August 20, 2009 at 10:00 PM  

Normally I don't read others' comments. But in this case, quite inadvertently, I read what Uncommon Sense had said and how you answered.

As I read your answer, I knew that I had understood you correctly. So, I disagree with you that you did not do good job. Of course, things can always be improved, there is never a best. Only better.


What comes out quite forcefully is that while the poet dies in tiny painful instalments trapped in the golden coffin, the street children live merrily as they dance in the rain.

Success is a prison to which the poor are never sent.

Having said this, I am also worried if the poet is being too romantic about poverty and its humiliation. Perhaps you are thinking more deeply than I am, but with age, I have slowly arrived at the conclusion that I would rather be rich than poor. I would rather be successful than a failure.

Even if rich and successful people are bored and bitter, being born on the street, living there all one's life and finally lying dead there one day is a scenario that does not attract me.

Even if there is much truth in what you have said, I am not on your side. The fact that I am reacting like this goes to show of course that the poem is a success. It hit me where it was bound to.

Best.

DD

Chhaya August 21, 2009 at 9:08 AM  

@AJ(Brosreview) – yes.. as promised, I will try to make it better with some much required editing.
@Deep Da – As I explained in the next post, the pain in this poem is the faked pain. Every successful person has the option of dancing on the streets and get his feet dirty.. but the poor don’t have the luxury of coming back to the warmer side of the Glass Window. I did not try to romanticise it.
I’ve put in the lines with Granny’s memories saying “Trying hard to forget” was supposed to express the feeling that the protagonist would rather be on his/her own side of the divide.. Yes, the temptation to cross over is there.. but s/he is not going to do it...
the golden coffin is too addictive :)

L. Venkata Subramaniam August 21, 2009 at 4:00 PM  

You have some good pieces here for a very good poem.

The best part I like is your forbidding us from comparing with Slumdog Millionaire. Looks like you are the one comparing :)

Anonymous,  September 3, 2009 at 1:23 PM  

the lines seem hollow..not all, but somewhere in between, the soul is missing, i donno, maybe its jus me feeling so...
what i want to say is, u r much better..."Glory" is ur way... ;)

a friend...

Iniyaazh - இனியாழ் September 18, 2009 at 10:35 AM  

Nice thoughts and a great subject for poetry. You deserve appreciations for the humane thoughts behind this poem.

Avoid "the"s, "and's, and try to experiement with words, that will make your poems as beautiful as the underlying thoughts.
-Iniyaazh
http://iniyaazh-poems.blogspot.com

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