Woods..

I thought of redesigning the front end of my blog when I came across this template that has all wooden boards.. My creative-aesthetic sense drew parallel with the Blog title ‘Musings of a DriftWood’ and here I am with the new background graphics.Well the ‘wood’ connection went a bit deeper and I sat recollecting all the poetic renditions which had the wood playing in its backdrop, So here came Robert Frost musing,

’The woods are lovely dark and deep

But I have promises to keep…

And miles to go before I sleep..’

I have heard these lines like innumerable times all through school-college farewells and I have them written in some school days slam-book as well. Then there are Byron’s lines,

’There is pleasure in the pathless woods,

There is a rapture on the lonely shore

There is society, where non intrudes

By the deep sea, and the music in its roar:

I love not man the less, but Nature more’

Not to be left behind, Wordsworth paid the following tribute,

One impulse from a vernal wood

May teach you more of man,
Of moral evil and of good,

Than all the sages can..

I’m sure many more minstrel tributes exist for Mr. Woods. But none so charming as the ‘Touch-Wood’ charm. My sister and I had a ritual back in schooldays. On the way to our school there was this ‘Pangar’ tree(botanical name (Aesculus indica)). It had a slight curvy trunk and you could hinge your school bag on it and rest for a while. With light shoulders I always enjoyed gazing up at its lofty branches. For no apparent reason my sister and I named it as the lucky tree and every morning we did our ritualistic ‘touch-wood’ for a lucky day. More so fervently if we had a test or exam scheduled.

I have a little wooden treasure from college-days as well. So here goes another ‘wood-story’. We had this little quadrangle beside the Dean’s office. The authorities did not think kindly of it and the tree was cut. I cannot explain my affinity for it but I picked up a little stalk of the fallen tree and pocketed it. Later I discovered another ‘tree-loving’ friend of mine carrying another little stalk. Well this ‘tree-lover’ friend of mine even had a crush pet-named ‘tree’.. we often stalked 'the tree', despite his knowledge!

At times I feel like an old lady with lots of stories and perhaps with just a wooden walking stick missing..Before i put in more ideas into your head.. its adieu now

Of Stilettos And Metaphors..

Life is but a dew drop, A Fragile Dew Drop on its Perilous way..


A ‘Fragile Dew Drop’ precariously balanced on the edge of the leaf blade glistening as the sunrays pass across its suspended weight. Why did this metaphor put a smile on my face?

Mundane tasks of life include buying groceries. And it was just another day, when I was duty bound to carry the groceries for the week. Yet standing by the side of the road I was thinking of the metaphor. I was dressed in office formals, brown trousers a pullover in a slightly rounded shade of maroon-red but what made me stand tall was a dainty pair of cream-brown stilettos. And what a day to be caught on the wrong foot with the little rain, rushing traffic and the ordeal of crossing the road to buy the groceries. I stood there on one side of the road and the store stood on the opposite. My immediate mission was to maneuver through the wild rush of traffic with the splattering rain balancing my umbrella and my heels and reach the store. Yet I stood there listening to the splattering rain and the swishing-vrooming bikes and cars smiling inwardly at my predicament. I was looking at the lights, the shadows, and the sounds all rushing past me, tearing through the rain drops. Disturbing my reverie, old Mr. Prudence queried “Why the trouble of ‘the balancing act’ in a pair of heels?” Always ready to argue his case, today he slyly tries to make his point by asking an innocent, ‘Why?’ He had a little irritated look, having borne the click-clack of my heels on the marbled floor through the day and now the near ‘sinking feeling’ as I stood on loose moist mud on the side of the road. Can I think of something intelligent in my defense? I turn my gaze to the approaching vehicles, and after doing a quick math, I stride across. Deftly I balance, I walk, I run and reach the other end. Miss vanity gives a flushed smile (intelligent defense)! I stand on the divider; I have another road to cross before I make it to the store. After another little pause I am again briskly walking tall across the road and into the store.
I always wonder standing on the billing counter why do I have to shop as if there is to be no tomorrow. And why don’t I realize the bigger the bags get, the heavier they are to carry! Late realization and here I am again running, hopping maneuvering through the traffic. I walk balancing myself on a pair of heels with an umbrella and now with two additional bags of grocery as well. The road to my home is stony and uneven, so I am again routing-rerouting, meandering, tip-toeing my way through. It’s not a cake walk I know nor is life. A metaphor again!