Posted in Poems

Sparkling Sunrise

Is our independence autarky?

And it’s stepping stones muscular

Pen as sword; peace as weapon

Oh! My motherland, prophet with pusher.

Is liberty a privilege?

And a crowning glory to a provoker

Ichor as harmony; sadism as defen

Oh! My kingdom bore peaceful chaos.

Is this democracy an ideal form?

And manifest system’s customer

Fight or obey; imp or zephon

Oh! My federation partly truth with fiction

Dream to fly, added potential

Triumph assured though unrushed.

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Posted in Book Review

The Women In The Window #BookReview

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A crème da la crème debut of A J Finn “The Women In The Window”

Elaborative (Blurb):

A psychologically ill women Dr.Anna who was a psychiatrist whose life line to real world is her window. She observes all people moving up and down through the street, her various neighbors which are visible in all directions through her Nikon camera zooming.

Its been almost a year that she has been plunged into her lavish 4- storeyed haunted house in NY after a tragic car accident when she lost her husband Ed & daughter Olivia/Livvy with her feline. She rented her basement to a tenant Mr. David who does her errands. She is suffering from Agoraphobia and goes unconscious everytime when she leaves the house for atmost ten steps.

One day she visualizes a murder of Mrs. Jane Russells in a house at opposite street, Anna listens to her shrill. Now, she is not sure if it is real or her imagination. She many a times is used to visualize Ed & Livvy talking to her. And Ed calling out “Guess Who Anna?”

She has many e-friends on Agora website. One is Dr. Fieldings who is her therapist and helps her to come out of her trauma. There is GrannyLizzie on website who soothes Anna with her honey-dipped words of endearment. Vis-à-vis psychopath Lizzie’s e-conversation made Anna pour her heart out which makes her nostalgic into sad happiness about uninvited moments. There is Bina who is her physiotherapist and visits her home weekly. There is a family of Russells who has recently shifted here. One day Ethan Russell, 16, visits her house to deliver a gift offered from his mother. Very often Ethan starts visiting her and she feels closeness and guise with him as a sweet child. Jane once or twice comes to her house spends long many enjoyable hours with her , play chess, drink wine, listens to old songs… They share a common birthdate Eleven-Eleven. This is for the first time she has a real person to be with for so many hours after the catastrophe. Thus builds Anna sweet companionship with Jane & hence forth watches her die. Now Anna is upto uncover the mystery by all means as demon within her heart always pines.
Wesley Brill was her business partner, psychiatrist, her graduate school mentor, a single, the one who recruited Anna into private practice. Anna had an affair with Brill which was revealed to her husband while she was driving the car and the mishap took place and she bore within guilt of killing her loved ones doubting her decisions.

Detective Mr. Little and his assistant Norelli who are willing to help her in solving the case. A neighbour’s kid , Takeda boy once helps her reach home from café when she somehow manages to going out for spying. Mr.Alistair Russell , Ethan’s father who was hard on Jane . He proves his wife is alive and not dead. Mrs. Jane is a different person than she had met. Then the question is Who She Was.


Review :

  • How aghast would u feel when u come to know that a stranger is staring you, roaming in your room every night when you enjoy sleeping?
  • How would you feel when an old aged person, an imposter, ditches you & hacks out all of your passcodes for cellphone, computer, social media accounts, websites… ?
  • How would you feel when your privacy is trespassed ?
  • How would u feel when your home keys are stolen and duplicated without your knowledge ?

The words “Guess Who Anna” shall haunt u for some days after reading this extravaganza.

It’s a millipede-centipede story in the beginning, goin on building characters and their habits as well as their psychology. And at a point the story escalates you in a roller coaster ride with increased momentum which shall trap u immersing yourself in them. Book which is enigmatic, notoriety, love, worries, giggles, turmoil, idiomatic, unique, weird – all at once.

Anthology of old movies played in background on Anna’s TV set as a sub-theme under its belly, precisely depicts her real life feelings on that spur which shall trigger your beats. It’s a book full of surprises in store as u unlock and unveil the pages the momentum goes on increasing abruptly keeping you occupied. It hold creditability of being “upto the mark” written debut. Readers shall awfully await for a new one. A chess-mate book. Book is intrinsic reflection of a person’s mind. It’s an integration of kaleidoscopic palpable thoughts.


Spoiler:

Austere Villan himself chuckles beneath night and nightmare is carved and tangled his devious lies. Book emphasis flaws-cracks and repercussions of Anna who trusted a wicked e-person later on became protagonist and acolyte of truth. Also mistrusting nice person like tenant David was her ‘faux pas’. I too always thought it was her handsome and flamboyant tenant. Such a saturated crime! It shows people are reluctant towards parents and have a special soft corner towards children. They feel kids are always innocent, there lies the innocence within. Ethan a.k.a Lizzie! But there is nothing like a perfect crime. You always have to rethink when you think.

Copyright © USHMA PATEL

Posted in Art, Poems

Rose’ed up Life

Poem inspired by an old painting

A wilted rose

is but dead beauty.

A life not chose

yet sworn to duty…

Through lows and highs

somehow she still grows;

So too is life

like that of rose!

Like a clock and mirror

each has two hands and a face.

But take away the hands they wear;

and only time is erased…

Love can be the cure,

when laugh becomes a tear.

But can the rose endure,

when anger breaks the mirror…

And the broken glass

cuts like the rose’s thorn.

But take away the future and past;

And the rose is never born!

Copyright © USHMA PATEL

Posted in Poems

Merry time with ‘Maritime’

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Copyright © USHMA PATEL

The sludgy oozy nemo, surpassed my leisurely toes;

The velvety glossy sand, struggles beneath, I Froze!

The hissing swishing wind, fluttered my wavy hairs;

The crashing ebbing waves, swirrled me around, I Share!

It’s MERRY TIME WITH MARITIME!

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The loving satin touch of endless blue, crystallized the soul within me;

The astonishing divine sacrament of Baptism applaud to mystery maker, I Glee!

The infinite designing energy, glided in inspire;

The homely homesick feel drowned in the lap of seabed, I Admire!

It’s MERRY TIME WITH MARITIME!

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The conspiring radiant sun, shadowed me on the ocean;

The inspiring mystic palm, like ship on breezeless calm, I Float!

It’s . . . . .

The wildcard was the moon,

had an definite power soon.

The majestic creamy milky way cheer,

arcading meteors crash, I Fear!

Is it  MERRY TIME WITH MARITIME??

~ By Ushma Patel

 

Posted in Uncategorized

Song of me!!

Craziness is what I wear

Honest is what I am

Jealousy is what I deficit

Cute is what I love

Evil is what I never ever tasted.

Its song of me to me!!

Superiority is my way

Passion is my ride

Life is my friend,

n so no one is my foe.

God is my trust

Friends are my purlieu.

Its song of me to me!!

Travel is source to learn

Home is where I lay

Success is my desire;

which I turned to want,

n so did I reap.

Gesture is what made me who I am

Pun is just what I demand.

Its song of me to me!!

Dignity is my woww

Simplicity is my now

Psychology is my recreation

N conscience is my dearest

Happiness is my maxim

That is who me is!

Its our song to us!!

Its our song

In my way.

Its song of me

Which all bore in deep.

Its song of me to me!!

Copyright © Ushma Patel

Posted in Culture

COLOURS OF LIFE:HOLI

RED, YELLOW, GREEN,BLUE

THERE IS NO CLUE

OF WHO AM I OR

WHOSE MY FRIEND NOR

BE IDENTIFIED EASILY

ALL CHILDREN & ELDERLY

WERE FULL OF COLOURS

AND PLAYING WITH WATER LIKE NON

THE POOJA NEAR THE FIRE

ON NIGHT OF HOLI THAT’S NICE

AND NEXT DAY A FUN LOVING ONE

DHULETI WITH LOTS OF FUN

WHERE WE HAD A PUN

GOSSIPS WITH OUR AMAZING ONE’S

WE FEEL LIKE WE ARE SO COOL

ENJOYING OUR LIVES

THIS WOULD BE ONE OF ALLURING DAY

OF ONES’S LIFE… WHICH IS PRECIOUS ONE

PEOPLE SCREECHING, SCREAMING LIKE NON

LIKE MAD’S IN AGRA THAT HAVE NONE

WE PLAY UNDER GRATEFUL WEALTH

BY OUR INCREDIBLE COSMOS

THATS’S REASON TO REAL MOCKERY

ORANGE, VIOLET, PINK… ME

ITS TRUE WE ARE ALL LIKE BUSY BEE

SO, BEFORE ITS TOO LATE

JUST TRUST ON YOUR FATE

AND PLAY HOLI

ON DAY OF DHULETI…

RED, YELLOW, GREEN, BLUE

THERE IS NO CLUE….

Copyright © USHMA PATEL

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Posted in Uncategorized

EXAMS: The unthoughtful moments

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In ecstatic moods am I
Holding the hopes high in the deep blue
Leading forward each stride towards glory
Increasing momentum; loss of sleep
Velocity’s raised far beyond ceiling
Magnificence behold within by me
Edgy, slothful, mind tiring days
Those last winning moments CRAZE
Flamboyant I seem but iffy I am
Victory seems to be sitting adjacent to me
Between thousands of buds opening aloud in anxiety
I espied myself to be one
Few more seconds to go
COUNT DOWN’s ONN!!!

Copyright © Ushma Patel