vasudhaiv kutumbakam-the whole world is one family

little cultural amazements, nostalgic twangs of home in this sultry suburb of california. the other day after dropping the kids at school, i was walking home and chanced upon two old indian men waiting at the bus stop. as they were chatting, i heard strains of Omkarnath Thakur and looked around to see where it was coming from. There in one man's hand was a tape recorder. both gentlemen were nodding and smiling and talking while a beautiful raaga became the background score for life in America, for this small bustop next to the railroad tracks. i realized then how home is a state of mind that you can carry with you everywhere.

then this morning, a stone's throw from the bus stop, a man was wheeling in his garbage can after trash collection, whistling a very catchy 'tujhe dekha to yeh jaana sanam.' without realizing it, i started humming the song and couldn't stop.

why do these little things touch me so much? why do they comfort me? and yet i feel this is what life boils down to. where all the answers can be found. this is what i want to capture in my words, my verse. this joy for all things simple. finding love in living, in all living things. from rotten peaches hanging to unripe lemons and apples, to the stray brown cat that sits in front of our house every evening, and to the humming birds that eat our figs.

i think it is neccesary to be humbled by nature, to realize/feel greater forces at work and most of all to feel the world is one big family.


proof of poetry

yes, i am actually going to post a poem. proof that behenji churns out poems, gets hand cramps from spinning the wheel.

poetry poachers beware: you can call the words yours, but you can't steal the mind they came from! enjoy!


In one hand
angry violets
And in the other
a Kukri knife
glowing green
of fresh floral kill

the flowers are for myself
my pleasure, my eyes
you say, holding them
a little too tight
and now your hands
smell faintly
of death
as you hold our faces
kiss us goodbye


two men and a tree

walking home this afternoon after picking up my son from pre-school, i came upon two chinese men perched on the sidewalk. i could tell they were gardeners from their wide brim hats and the pickup parked at the curb with garden tools jutting out. they had a bucket of some sort and i thought they were pulling weeds with their hands. as i came closer i saw it was a plastic cooler. on top of the cooler were two porcelain bowls and in the gardeners' grass stained hands chopsticks. the two looked so tranquil under the shade of a tree: eating, smiling, talking...and so at home while far away from home. i felt like i was watching a poem go by.