QUEST FOR LIFE

In those days

in the thick, cloudy nights

lying sleepless on his bed

the frightening thoughts

of demons of death breaking open the doors

and taking away his soul

haunted the old man always

with shivers running down his body.

He in a feeble voice 

wanted his wife, the old woman always  by his

side, to scare away the demon of death closing

in on him.

The devoted wife that she was

weaved a cover of protection

over him every moment.

But no amount of protection was

sufficient to drive away

his blood-chilling nightmares day in and day out.

The foot steps of demon of death

continued to reverberate around him.

He alone could hear the fiery

dance steps and roars of the blood-thirsty demon dancing outside.

Albeit all precautions under thunder showers

the demon of death broke into his room and

took away his soul…….

THE LONG WAIT

I still recall the day you made that 

the vanishing appearance from 

my life forty years ago.

Like a bird flying to

unknown lands, you disappeared 

from my life for good.

Like a man walking away leaving his

wife in a desert

you left me alone in that strange city that day.

Like a loving husband

planting kisses on his wife’s forehead

on that very morning you profusely  

showered kisses on my forehead

and sped away to your working place by your

two-wheeler to your far away office on that fateful day.

You were always sharp and punctual

and I was certain you would be

by my side at the exact time,

After waiting for hours together

leaving me sleepless the entire night

you didn’t come to my shock and sorrow.

In the wee hours of the morning I did lodge

complaint at the nearest police station

and they promptly

formed search teams to the nook and corner of the city

yet

all of them came back empty-handed

to my shock and despair.

In a strange city

far away from my home

clouds of uncertainty loomed

large over my future

and

upon losing all my hopes

I was left with no option

but to leave the city

and catch a train to my home in the southern peninsula.

Now that after forty years

in the sunset of my life with a spark

of hope in my mind

I still continue to wait for you…..

THE VILLAGE SANTA

He was old, dark-complexioned

and of medium height.

He was bald, with flowing

long and snow white-beard and white moustache.

His eyes were always

protruded which reminded one of an exorcist.

No wonder

he evoked fear in the

eyes of the children at first sight

but he could easily endear himself

to them by his loving and

affectionate behaviour.

Clad in white with pocket full of

mouth watering sweets

he walked across the village

and distributed sweets

to the children, hugged them

though he was not Santa.

At the sight of children

he never forgot to wave his hands at them

and if they failed to reciprocate

it filled his eyes with tears.

He did go on with his merry go round

until he fell ill one day

with age catching up.

The children along with their parents

visited him everyday

treated him with care and affection

until he had a peaceful end.

The children felt deserted

by their sweet loving grandpa

rest of the days…..

THE VILLAGE SANTA

He was old, dark-complexioned

and of medium height.

He was bald, with flowing

long and snow white-beard and white moustache.

His eyes were always

protruded which reminded one of an exorcist.

No wonder

he evoked fear in the

eyes of the children at first sight

but he could easily endear himself

to them by his loving and

affectionate behaviour.

Clad in white with pocket full of

mouth watering sweets

he walked across the village

and distributed sweets

to the children, hugged them

though he was not Santa.

At the sight of children

he never forgot to wave his hands at them

and if they failed to reciprocate

it filled his eyes with tears.

He did go on with his merry go round

until he fell ill one day

with age catching up.

The children along with their parents

visited him everyday

treated him with care and affection

until he had a peaceful end.

The children felt deserted

by their sweet loving grandpa

rest of the days…..

SOLILOQUY OF A LADY IN DISTRESS

Will my beloved, beautiful garden of hopes blossom

again after that painful episode of that day?

Will a warm smile glint in my lips after that

shameful and painful incident on

that twilight moments of that accursed day?

Will my intimate confidence visit me again after

after those moments of painful deflowering?

Will my lover shower thousand kisses on my

lips and cheeks and lock me in his arms after those

demons robbed off my invaluable treasure of purity?

Will the society look

upon me with the same

eyes they looked upon me earlier after that

dark moments  in my life?

Sure, I must come to my old form to forge ahead in this society

but will that immemorable incident continue to haunt me

in the dark and deep silence of the coming nights?

REUNION

Saturdays and Sundays are

days for celebration to

her and the children.

After spending six days of

tedious working hours in the office

and covering long distances

he reaches home to the

delight of her and children.

Upon meeting him she turns

a full-blown flower like

a lotus at the sight of Sun in the sky.

On Sundays they go out for

cinemas, shopping malls

and go on a purchasing spree.

With the Sunday sun dipping

in the western horizon

her face turns pale like

the lotus flower and children

lose their steam, enthusiasm and vibrancy.

All spend a disturbing night

and before sun makes his

appearance in the east,

he says bye to her

and kids assuring them of

getting united the coming Saturday evening.

She hides her tears

behind a faint smile

and children turn tearful

with tears streaming

down their faces.

THE SNAKE

Barring occasional squabbling

we moved along the same wave-lengths.

Barring occasional separations

all our reunions were

delightful and memorable.

Barring occasional intervals

we did go on merry tours

to beautiful landscapes, resorts

monuments and temples

and spent ecstatic days and nights.

And now

how come this curse of

boredom an aloofness

sneaked into our life like a snake from nowhere

making our life a nightmare

of sorts….?

THE CHESS

He is my foe. I know it

I am his foe. He knows it.

Yet

whenever we meet

we always care to exchange

broad smiles,

broad smiles reflecting innocence

we sit across a table

often

to discuss organisational matters over two cups of tea

under the envelope of cordiality.

But

we never forget to

gain an edge over the other

we are grandmasters in

the game of political chess, you know

each knows when to move

pawns, knights, bishops, rooks, queen and

give a check to each other’s king.

We sit together,

dine and wine together,

we pose for photo sessions

displaying wide smiles

to show the outside world

that we are united…

who is the first to breath last

he or me

we, either he or me

needs no glycerine

to express each other’s pain….

since tears could flow down like waterfalls.

The fun is that

under the deceptive calm

of unity and bonhomie

people know the

strong undercurrent of

enmity and game for one upmanship…  

SCENT OF NOSTALGIA

Unlike you

in my childhood days

I was under the well-deserved attention

well-deserved love and care

of my parents, grandpa and grandma,

uncles, aunties and siblings

what not

even our neighbourhood.

All rained profuse love and affection on me.

I took bath in the glory of

everyone’s love, care and attention.

But you know

time never stands still

time keeps on flowing like a river

rather like an airplane

I had to witness the demises

of my grandpa and grandma

whose love was fathomless

I had to witness

uncles, aunties and siblings

crossing swords

our neighbourhood was no different

I remained a mute witness to the rivalry

and separation one by one

over the  hot issue of wealth and property

all I had to see with my own eyes.

And now

I am like you

feelings lonely and neglected

feel like I’m in a desert

the only difference being

you are quite young and

I’m much older

I keep the scent of nostalgia with me,

but for you nostalgic is an alien word….

You have never been thru nostalgic days….

Time never stands still

Time keeps on flowing like a river

rather flying  like an  airplane

we’ve to learn to live with the flight of time…..    

           

MUMBAI GANGRAPED AGAIN

‘If I were in the place of that hapless girl, I would have bloodied his nose and reduced him to pulp’-  It was the reaction of Alique Padamsee, veteran actor and social activist, while taking part in a discussion in a national TV channel over the brutal rape of a girl student by a police man (the law keeper turned law breaker) in a police chowkee at Marine Drive, South Mumbai in 2005. Mr.Padamsee was fretting and fuming with rage. All those who took part in that discussion were agitated, angered and infuriated over the incident. Whole Mumbai rose in anger against that incident demanding harshest punishment be meted out to the police man which caught the national attention.

There was a time when Mumbai was a safe place for woman who was respected by the male community as a whole compared to Delhi, the national capital where incidents of rapes are order of the day under the very nose of ruling mandarins. 

I recall the ladies walking alone in the thick of night to their abodes free from fear and apprehension of rapes in Mumbai in the 80’s and before. No incidents of rape were reported from anywhere. Those were days the city was free from terror elements too, barring few lumpen elements.

But gradually the picture began to change with cases of rapes and violence by unruly elements grabbing headlines.

The thursday gang rape of a photo journalist from a city magazine of Mumbai by five goons in the premises of Shakti Mills, a decrepit, dilapidated structure surrounded by bushes and trees in Central Mumbai at about 6’O’clock in the evening after overpowering  her male colleague who was beaten up and tied to to a tree immediately caught the attention of the entire Mumbai. After the gang rape by five men the 22 year old lady lay there unconscious until 8’O’clock.

She was later rusheded to Jaslok hospital immediately and underwent  surgery. The doctors later declared her condition stable. If the incident reminded me of the brutal gang rape and subsequent death of a phsysiotherapy student who was brutally gang raped by five men on a running bus at Capital, Delhi which shocked and enraged the entire India few months ago,, it is not surprising.

The intern photo-journalist was on an assignment to take the pictures of chawls of Mumbai and dilapidated buildings in the city. The accused five men are reported to be from Mahalakshmy the Central Mumbai area.

Is Mumbai too going in the way of Delhi since reports are pouring in of women who are scary of travelling in the local trains and on foot late in the city. Some ladies even fearing the lumpen elements have quit their posts. In Mumbai, in many of the firms, the working hours for employees are reported to be until 8PM or more. It is a pity and shame that a city which was renowned for its safety of women is no more a safe place.

Can Mumbai regain its status as a city well-known for its safety for its women community like in the early days? Will the rulers raise to the occasion and make it a safe haven for ladies. Or will it continue to turn a deaf ear to the anger and shock gripping the city indefinitely? Wait and see……

THE BABY DOLL

Yesterday

while taking an evening walk

down the pavement of the city

I happened to enter a

baby palace

for no apparent reason.

My glance ran about

the baby palace

filled with toys and dolls

and upon spotting a baby doll

with unbelievable eyes

my glance got fixed on

the bay doll of ineffable beauty

and felt ineffable joy

I made her my own.

She was like an angel

clad in shining white frocks with frills

and beckoning eyes

which conveyed a

mischievous smile.

Like a dad

taking care of his baby

I took extreme care of her

and upon reaching home

I placed her in a safe place

so as to enable me

to have an eye on her

every moment.

Her lively, lovely eyes

her beaming smiles

her white frocks with frills

all beyond words to express.

After a cat nap

upon looking at

her to my shock and embarrassment

I saw blood oozing out

of the corners of her eyes

I saw her breathing with

much difficulty

foam spilling out of

her mouth

I was at a loss about what to do.

Before collapsing

panting she told me in broken words -

‘I was a child of Syria

I was a child of caring and loving parents

I was a child with full of dreams of my future

and all that.

And now

I am here like this….’

She couldn’t say anymore…..

SYRIA – GOVT SAVAGES KILL THOUSANDS OF CHILDREN

Be it Syria, Egypt, Tunisia or Libya and for that matter any nation, it is always the civilian population who bear the brunt of all riots or civil wars raging across the countries. With Egypt grabbing headlines for quite sometime now what most of us displayed was a criminal apathy in the case of Syria, Tunisia or Libya.

The demonstrations broke out in Syria in March, 2011 has as on date claimed 100000 people most of them civilians. It is reported that almost 300000 civilians are reported to have crossed the borders  as refugees and entered Iraq seeking asylum fearing loss of life. And the flow of civilians shows no signs of  stopping.

With the Bashar Govt still firmly in the saddle inspite of the determined opposition, the nation is sitting on a powder keg.

Yesterday’s news of the Bashar govt’s forces launching chemical weapon agent, deadly Sarin gas has reportedly claimed 1300, most of them women and children it was the dastardly attack ever by the forces loyal to the Bashar govt. It is learnt that the govt possess 1000kg of the nerve agent Sarin which was first launched in the world wars I and II.

What is most disturbing is the positions taken by both America and Russia which are at loggerheads on the matter of the civil war raging across Syria. If these nations could bury their false prestige and sit around a negotiating table on a cordial atmosphere in the larger interests of the helpless civilians, it would certain;y pave the way for a durable solution. As of now, Russia provides all out support for Bashar govt and US takes sides with the opposition.

The regional nations who could find a way out to end the crisis themselves are in the throes of deep trouble in the form of civil war like situation, if not civil wars. Take for example, Iraq, Egypt, Turkey, Libya and Tunisia. All these nations are in one form or other deeply in trouble. Thus the question of a regional solution is out of question.

UN envoy Lakhdar Brahimi is still very much in the picture but he too has failed in his earnest efforts to bring about Bashar govt and the adamant opposition to sit across a table, discuss threadbare the contending issue and thus find out everlasting peaceful solution. With Bashar-Al-Assad firm in his position of no stepping down and the determined opposition never willing to scale down their position ie. nothing but the abdication of Bashar Assad, Brahimi is in a bewildered state. Whether he too will go the way of Kofi Annan who tried his level best as Arab-UN envoy is the question staring at us as of now. It is near unlikely that Bashar-Al-Assad with his large pile of arms and ammunition and loyal forces by his side is still in a safe position otherwise firmly entrenched, stepping down from the saddle even in the face of organized opposition (they are not organized as of now). The end result will be the continuing bloodshed across the country resulting in the carnage of civilian men, women and children who want nothing but a peaceful atmosphere and better living conditions. The sight of innocent ones especially children falling prey to the nerve agent Sarin is blood-chilling and appalling.

Now the people wait for a Messiah to rescue them from this pitiable situation. Now that nearly three years have passed by with almost 100000 dead and still counting, it is nothing but a hopeless situation. The hope of some observers that, India as a prominent member of NAM (Non Aligned Movement) and BRIC countries could play a greater picture seems to be ill-founded in a volatile situation like this. It is true that India is acceptable to both Assad and the Syrian opposition when it comes to the core of the issue. It’s effort may prove futile.

It is hightime UN entered into the picture and deploy its forces across Syria to stop further damage, otherwise the whole process would go haywire.   

ON THE WAY…………..

After our painful,

‘surgical’ separation years back,

I had to pass by your village today.

On touching the village limits

it was no surprising that

my heart longed for your proximity

knowing fairly well

that it was something impossible.

On reaching close to your

home on the street side

I could hear my heart-beats like drum-beats

I knew not for what.

I slowed down my car

when reached close by your home

and to my shock and despair

what awaited me was

a flat ground resembling a waste land

in the place of your home

and the favourite garden which you

nurtured like a mother breast-feeding her child

and derived motherly satisfaction.

The portico,

the terrace and the gate from

where you cast thousand

glances, eloquent

sweet and loving they were 

still indelibly imprinted

on the walls of my mind.

Even after a long span

I can’t wipe away those feelings from me.

With a sense of vacuum

filling my mind

I drove my car aimlessly.

I was coming to a conclusion that

you would never appear

before me except in my

dreams….

MISSION

He is a beetle

entering  beautiful gardens

when the sun showers

his warm rays on earth every morning.

Humming tunes he flies from one

flower to the other

rains bountiful kisses on each flower

and sucks out the nectar of love.

He never turns back on his lovers

after leaving them searching greener pastures

to get drunk with the nectar of love.

Yet his lovers upon whom

he rained bountiful love

never nurse any

bitter feelings towards him

instead

derives supreme ecstasy

because they bloomed for him

and it was their mission

to gratify him with the nectar of love.

With the sun

bidding bye for the day

in the western horizon

flowers fade away with their

petals withering away falling on earth…..

ALL LIKE A DREAM

Irrepressible and charming his looks

disarming and captivating his smiles.

Though a stranger

when he held her hand in his arm

she couldn’t resist him

when he gestured her to come with him

fear or anxiety conquered her not

instead

she felt overwhelmed and elated.

She knew not where he was taking her to

still she felt no embarrassment

instead

she walked with him as if in a trance

trod villages and towns

lakes and rivers

covered long distances

she felt a sense of security  in his possession

at last

they reached a verdant valley

resembling a green carpet looking upto the hillock

serene and tranquil the valley was

he took her to a small house.

‘I like you, love you

hence I look you to my secluded house

in this beautiful valley

I am your life-partner for the

rest of my life’ – for the first time he was

whispering in her ear.

A sublime feeling she experienced in his words.

‘At last I am freed

I was a caged bird all these years

now that I am blessed with a protective covering

like a chick under the wings of her mother hen

she felt a top of the world feeling……

THE SUN OF TRUTHS

With the dark deeds of

men at helm

get obscured by the dark

clouds of falsehoods and

with the fading away of

clouds at times

the sun of truths

emerge in the horizon and

to our shock and horror

we stand thunderstruck

at the enormity of

evil deeds of venal manipulators

hidden behind the curtains so long.

The unfortunate truth

is nothing but our

helplessness, disillusionment and frustration

to wipe out the grime of corruption

from the midst of our lives…

THE FLOWER VENDOR

Everyday

with the fall of dusk

the flower vendor used to arrive

in our locality

with jasmine flowers

packed in plantain leaves

and distributed to the ladies

of course for a price.

The ladies would keep the

flowers safely under their pillows

and would wait for the approach of

sleeping time. 

They would spread the fragrant

jasmine flowers on their beds

to arouse sexual desires in their men

which acted like aphrodisiacs.

They celebrated each night

making merry

and enjoyed nice sleeps.

One day

to the despair of couples

the flower-vendor didn’t arrive

and that was a sleepless and boring nights to the couples.

It was a special day

for the flower-vendor

as it was his wedding day. 

He was making merry with his bride that night  

and nights after…..

AN AIMLESS JOURNEY

In my teens

I recall an incident

still etched on the

walls of my mind

involving a lean, tall, dark

old man in white  

who came to my house

on bare-foot at the sunset moments in the village

pleading with my father

to give him shelter that night.

From the very first look

father was certain

that he was a man of self-respect

hailing from a well-to-do family

and with all humility

invited him inside

and provided him an easy chair

my father used to

recline in his leisure moments  everyday.

What caught my immediate attention was

his gloomy face and tired face.

We at home knew very

well he was travelling

on bare-foot the entire day. 

My father must have seen in him

his or his father

who left him in his early child-hood

which prompted him to give due respect and 

care to the old man.

In the night

with father sitting beside

him on a bench

the old man unraveled his entire story.

That he was from an

aristocratic family, from deep south

and after his wife

left him for her heavenly abode

in the prime of her life

the burden of looking after his four children

fell on his shoulders

and with all love, care and responsibility

got them educated

married them off to well-off families

but with him reaching the sunset of his life

with flow of time

he gradually turned a burden to them

which they began to

express in their behavior and deeds

by neglecting even his minimum needs

treated him like garbage

which was like a slap in his face.

The self-respect in him made him

walk out of the family

with no destination in mind.

From that very day

he traversed long distances on bare-foot

spending each night at

some households, temple premises or on the verandahs of

roadside buildings.

Thus

that day he happened to reach our house too

for spending a night at our house.

My parents provided him

food and facilities arranged for a

peaceful sleep.

In the morning

with the Sun rising over the village

he bid farewell to us

with gratitude glinting in his eyes

but still looking gloomy.

I saw my father’s eyes

brimming with tears

on seeing that my eyes

too turned tearful.

Father watched him

walking bare-footed

like a lean tree about to fall down any time

until he melted in the distance…….

CHAATHU’S INDEPENDENCE DAY

In the small hours of Independence Day morning

Chaathu awoke from his slumber 

did his routine chores

put on his ironed-khadi attire

came out of the house

walked towards the garage

where the car was parked

and

unlike the National and State leaders

who hoisted the national flags

in the presence of dignitaries

in full media glare across the land

acknowledging salutes of  

marching khaki-clad forces left-right-left

to the rhythm of music bands

bugles and drums

infront of the leaders.

Chaathu hoisted the National flag

on the bonnet of his car

entered it

switched on the ignition key

drove down the highway

before the Sun opened his eyes

and raced along…

Upon spotting the highway police metres away

Chaathu with butterflies in his stomach

brought the car to an abrupt halt

opened the door and

vanished in no time like lightning.

The appalled highway police

cordoned off the car in no time

and with their prying eyes

looked inside

saw sacks of sugar

arranged layers by layers

which Chaathu was smuggling out.

For the abandoned car

and the sacks of sugar

with the National flag

hanging its head in

shame have no takers.

Whither gone patriot Chaathu?    

THE SIEGE

PART 1

They arrived from faraway places

by trains, by buses and on foot.

Blockades, of course were there

all hurdles they jumped

reached the city one day before

with enthusiasm and vigour to the brim.

They came listening to

the exhortations of their leaders

with enthusiasm and vigour to the brim.

Their only mission:   Lay siege to the citadel of power

the nerve-centre of the law-making body

where ruling mandarins and

their cohorts lock horns with the opposition.

PART 2

To stem the rot of corruption at

higher echelons they came

to fight against the

evil deeds of the ones

in saddle they came

all at the instance of

their leaders who promised

to bring heaven on earth

to herald a new dawn.

PART 3

Compound wall is circular

compound wall with four gates

North, South, West and East.

The nerve centre, the law making body

too circular

where Ministers and staff are safely enconsced.

PART 4

In thousands they came to lay siege to

the ruling citadel

to block the four gates

to halt the entry of

ministers and employees they came.

In anticipation of riots

police and paramilitary staff kept on vigil

eternal vigil

with lathies, tear-gas shells,grenades and guns

their mission - intimidation of the milling

crowds, unarmed crowds

ready to brave even the bullets.

PART 5

All said and done

it was business as usual

for the ruling mandarins and their cohorts

with the leaders of the opposition themselves

preventing their followers

from laying siege to the

gate,  the main gate through which

the responsible mandarins were allowed to enter

Again, all said and done

to the cheer of the flocking crowds

who shouted slogans and zindabads  

that the siege had ended…

they could return from where they came from.

The flame of siege died without even a whimper at the

end of the day…

pity those milling crowds…  

thus came to an end ‘indefinite’ siege in one day…………

FOR MY RED ROSE

Those long flowing hairs

those broad forehead with

sandal paste and bindi

those wide dreamy, magnetic eyes

that pretty face

that tall slim figure

that was you on your

25^th birthday.

I still recall the moment I gifted

warm kisses on your forehead

the first time in your life
cheeks and cherry lips  

those days we celebrated

our love to the envy of
the world around us

those days you gifted me red roses

those misty December days 

we illuminated our homes

with twinkling Christmas stars

and colourful bulbs and X’mas trees

our anxious waits for the Santa

in his long flowing crimson  red dress

his flowing snow white beard his dances

heralding the birth of Infant Jesus in a cattle shed

at  Betlehem

wishing us merry Christmas.

Those were unforgettable days

still unforgettable days

after twenty five years

those are priceless treasures

to me in the years to come

or until I breath my last

I always yearn to keep

those priceless treasures

close to my heart.

I know

your long flowing hairs

may have t have turned grey

or hairs cut short upto

your shoulders

your cute face may have

lost all its charm

your dreams might have

vanished from your eyes 

dark shades may  have

taken their places in the

valleys of your eyes

you might have turned

bulky in place of your slim, cute figure

I know not

but I know one thing for sure

you may  have evolved

into a different picture

but my dear

I don’t want to

keep that changed figure in my mind

and I always wish to

fondle that priceless treasure of your twenties

in a sense, I’m lucky

to be far away from you

far, far away from you.

LAYER BY LAYER

We are living in difficult times, my friend

we are living in difficult times.

Look around and see for yourself, my friend

everything is in chaos

my friend, everything is chaos.

Our immediate mission, my friend

is unknot the knots

and arrange everything

layer by layer, brick by brick.

Friend, like an artist giving

shape and beauty to his creations

we need to arrange everything

layer by layer, brick by brick.

Difficult and time-consuming, though

it is our mission….

ON THE EDGE……..

The dark melancholic lane is lined up

on both sides with

dilapidated buildings inhabited

by several occupants.

The old dilapidated

buildings are about to

cave in anytime, though.

But this truth never

deters the inhabitants

from vacating the buildings

since they don’t buy

the fact that they never

can escape the clutches of certain death.

A storm, a hurricane or for no apparent reason

could knock down

the buildings reducing

them to heaps of rubble

and that they could be caught underneath.

Like it or not

death could visit a

billionaire as well as a

pedestrian walking down the pavement……

THE BIRDS

The birds kept on flapping

their wing against the

inner recesses of the king’s fortress

condemning him to sleepless nights.

The only option left to him was

to unlock doors of freedom to

them to breath the scent of freedom.

The birds fluttered around him for a while

as if in gratitude to the king

and spreading the fragrance of

freedom flew into the

open world where they

celebrated their hard-won treasure

singing and dancing rhythmically.

The king who was on the brink of

insanity like a tumuluous sea

gone mad with violent waves rocking its shores

at last had the taste of peace.    

STRANGE PLANET

It was a magnificent fortress

a poem sculpted in marble, once

where life throbbed round the clock

where angels and demons trod along.

The garden in front

was beautiful and fascinating with

colourful blooms.

With the passage of time

the fortress turned empty and silent

where even ghosts feared to tread…

The garden infront turned flowerless

and thorny with none

available to take care

of the fortress as well as the garden….

Today

the fortress has

not even any claimants…..

TIME-FRAME

I know you would come to me

one day

I know you would leave

me any day

For your arrivals and departure

you never keep any time-frame

Dreams and desires

need not materialize

I cherished dreams once, yes  

I fondled desires once, yes

I knew it is neither your fault

nor mine

it is something beyond my control

to prevail upon you

to be with me all time.

True,

dreams or desires not materialize

I wish they could…

I need not be desperate

as I am totally dedicated to you…

totally devoted to you

upon bidding farewell to me each time

I always read your pain

and remorse from your face

it explain everything…..

ART OF LIVING

His strength lies in her weakness

Her strength lies in his weakness

Their art of living

is a combination of both

strength and weakness

Their art of love-making is no less different.

FRIEND OR FOE

Friend or foe

I knew nothing about him. 

With fire in his eyes

he aimed his pistol

at me at close-range.

‘Shut your eyes’ – he ordered.

I shut my eyes.

‘Hold your tongue’- he shouted

I held my tongue.

‘Stand still’- he commanded

I stood like a statue.

I heard my heart pounding.

With fear lurking behind

my closed eyes.

I waited for my last moments

A few seconds

just a few seconds.

A rush of thunders

pierced my ear-drums.

With a shudder

with fright in my eyes

I opened them slowly, fearfully.

With disbelieving eyes

I saw him lying in a pool of blood…..

his skull ripped apart______.

Friend or foe

I knew not anything about him.

Yes, I am still alive……

THEIR SALVATION

Life in all its glory 

is pain to him,

Life in all its pain

is glory to her,

pain and glory combined

is ecstasy to both

when each delves

into the other both feel it

For them supreme ecstasy is

what they search for……

‘cause supreme ecstasy

to them is salvation________.

ROAD OF LIFE

Once

this road of life

was soft and smooth

lined up on both sides

by verdant trees of love and shade

through which we

trod along hands in hands.

Those were days we

enjoyed the sweet breeze,

fragrance of the flowers

and fruits with our

hearts full to the brim.

Now

this road of life

has turned crater-filled

along which we tread

along a tediously

dangerously, haphazard path 

with the old trees of love and shade 

seen nowhere

which are replaced by

lines of concrete demons of hatred,

indifference and mutual suspicion.   

Fortunately or unfortunately

being a man who is a

witness of both what is left is to sit

with my tongue tied

looking forward to the uncertain future……...  

THE ALBATROSS

Imagine a night

the stars up above

instead of casting their

twinkling smiles on us

spitting fires on earth

reducing everything here

on our earth to a massive heap of ashes

like the scorching sun

raining fires on earth

on summer days……

Going by the way the world

moves ahead these days

the albatross of such thoughts

hangs around our necks…..

STREAMS OF LOVE

In the crystal-clear gurgling streams of love

we took divine dip everyday once

washing away all our sins and emerged pure.

In those days

never did we anticipate that

one day the gurgling streams of love

would get dried up

with the passage of time.

Now,

we find ourselves in a

heartless, soulless world

with all streams already

gone dried-up.

Now we all feel ourselves

condemned sinners

with gurgling streams of love

absent from our dreams even……

NOTHING…NOTHING…NOTHING…..

After long agonizing separation

he for the first time

entered her dreams

like a prisoner

breaking of the jail.

The unexpected meeting

rather a reunion

albeit in their dreams

their eyes brimmed

with tears of joy and pain.

Thru eloquent glances

each conveyed emotions

abound, past and present

since their separation.

Gifting warm kisses on

her forehead, cheeks and lips

his eyes still in tears

vanished from her

dreams to nowhere

with her breaking out

into uncontrollable sobs….

On hearing her sobs

her better-half

woke up from his slumber

and shook her from sleep

inquired her whether

she saw a nightmare….

Nothing….Nothing….Nothing… she answered between sobs

He held her close to him

and in a tone of love and care

whispered in her ears

not to sob like a

child and be calm.

         

ZIMBABWE GOES TO ELECTIONS – AMID SPECULATIONS OF MASSIVE RIGGING

Zimbabwe went to polls yesterday amid wide speculation that the President Robert Mugabe’s ZANU-PF was set to rig the elections on a massive scale. Morgan Tswangirai, the Prime Minister and leader of MDC (Movement for Democratic Change) has already expressed apprehension on the outcome of results due to massive rigging. In the 2008 elections, it was MDU which emerged victorious but Robert Mugabe, 89, President of Zimbabwe declined to accept the defeat and decided to stick to Presidency though Tswangirai and his followers who constituted a majority went on a protest which shook Zimbabwe for a prolonged period against Mugabe’s decision to order for a run-off which was not acceptable to Morgan Tswangirai and his party. In order to find a way out of the precarious situation leaders of certain African countries played mediators and after consistent efforts it was decided that Mugabe continue as President and Tswangirai as Prime Minister.

Now that after a lapse of five years, since 2008, a hastily - called election was declared, amidst wide-spread demands by the citizens of Zimbabwe. Zimbabweans demand a regime change since the Zimbabwean economy is in a shambles. Reports pouring from Zimbabwe present a dismal picture of the economy. It is reported that from 1998-2005 economy contracted by 40% and inflation rate has sky-rocketed upto 231 million per unit, with the value of country’s currency nearing big zero. No development forthcoming, unemployment at its peak, people reeling under massive poverty and malnutrition, Zimbabwe finds itself in a ‘ditch’.

Mugabe who became President of Zimbabwe in 1980 on attainment of freedom from Whites was then respected and revered as a savior of the country. He was seen as most apt leader of Zimbabwe. With his firm grip on Zimbabwe as President, this black leader once the beloved rule bared his authoritarian streak mistaking himself to be ruler of the nation throughout his life. 

Now that more than a democrat, he has evolved into an absolute autocrat with an iron fist over his country.

While the urban Zimbabwe holds a massive sway in favour of Tswangirai, through land reforms Mugabe’s ZANU-PF is rumoured as having hold on entire Zimbabwe.  

Robert Mugabe’s argument that Morgan Tswangirai and his party Movement for Democratic Change (MDC), are agents of imperialists is laughable. He goes on asserting that he will never allow his nation to be in the hands of imperialism and ‘imperialist agents’ like Tswangirai.

With the Zimbabwean currency losing its value steeply, it is true Tswangirai aims at dollarize the economy not because he is an imperialist agent. He aspires to lift the economy from the deep ditch Zimbabwe finds itself, by giving a facelift to the impoverished nation. It is a billion dollar question whether a change of regime is possible or Mugabe goes on playing with his oft-repeated arguments. All feel like this old man is not ready to change with time. A massive obstacle in the form of Robert Mugabe seems to be blocking the onward march of Tswangirai and massive majority aspiring for a change for good.