Sunday, May 31, 2015

MEMORIES


POEM

My memories and for that 
matter everyone’s memories
are arranged in a haphazard manner 
like the students often
arrange their books keeping no pattern.
It is impossible,
absolutely impossible
to arrange one’s memories
keeping  order because they are
in a fluid state.
Memories often play
hide and seek games like children’s hobbies.
Memories like rains
often play spoil-sport like 
a cricket match between
two countries.
It is better to turn back
once in a while to renew one’s past
 since the current phase
is a bridge of the past to the present.
Then one would make
out the difference
between memories of
the past and current
phase of memories. 
Not only the memories

but the rains of the two periods.   

Friday, May 29, 2015

A FIDDLING NERO


POEM

Educated, but uncivilized.
Handsome, but
the face of mind is ugly.
Fiddling Nero while
the nation is burning.
Deafening explosions
piercing the eardrums
without any halt.
Lakhs and lakhs of citizens
fall prey to the bullets  and
bombs killing the former
and maiming.
Lakhs and lakhs flee for
life to the neighbouring  nations.
A doctor by profession
but cares not to measure
the pulse of his subjects.
A long chain of nightmares
haunt him several  times
disturbing his slumber
all related to impending dangers awaiting him
his family and the sycophants flattering
his non-existent
virtues  ranging  from generosity,
care for the citizens
his benevolence etc.
Despite the chasing nightmares
a ruler  stupid and stubborn by nature
like his wicked,
stupid and stubborn
father who was ruthless and wicked
towards  his subjects
the former too
clutching to his
throne like a leech

refusing to abdicate…….come what may…..

Thursday, May 28, 2015

SUMMER HEAT


POEM

Like the dreaded disease plague hitting a city
and spreading far and wide
claiming hundreds of
thousands of citizens,
…………………..The scorching summer heat
seizes the lives
of thousands of people due to
sun strokes and dehydration.
The wells go dry, ponds
and lakes, rivers
and streams go dry
driving the people to
pray to rain Goddess
to shower mercy on them
by opening up the sky
thereby pouring rains
profusely and banish
the summer sun at least
for a short span if not
a long span
and drive the people
celebrate the monsoon 
by walking, running
and dancing in the
torrential rain as long as they wish.
Mother Nature running
out of the very depth
of her patience
avenge her revenge, anger
and frustration over
the entire land
wreak vengeance for
the ecological plunder
upsetting climate cycle
for the last few years.
Her retaliation is  
so ruthless that
we the people are

undergoing her harsh punishment…..   

Wednesday, May 27, 2015

JUDGEMENT


POEM

His steely resolve
and bold foot-steps 
convey the message of
his will-power and complacency.
His burly body, shining eyes
and disarming smile are not enough
to erase the fright
in the eyes  of many a person.
Both gents and ladies 
mistake him the
very embodiment of arrogance
inspite of his smile throughout the day
on watching from a
distance often think of
him for a rough figure.
But glancing him for
a  short distance
when the unfamiliar turns familiar,
reminds the latter of a rose petal
so nice, so soft and so fragrant
and they atone for
their misunderstanding
for a long period about him.
Our judgement of
people can be
right or wrong
on watching a fellow
while from outside.


Tuesday, May 26, 2015

MYSTERIOUS MAN


POEM

Day in and day out
he keeps on walking
briskly inside the
hall of his house.
He never sleeps
it is alien to him
and sleeplessness is his
intimate friend.
Still he remains energetic and
the word tiredness and
is never seen in his dictionary.
Even while the world is asleep
he remains awake, walking  to and fro.
Like unrolling  a carpet
the waves of a violent
sea one after other
lash the rocks near the sea-shore,
-          his mind.
But for a few unavoidable occasions
he is busy with
his walking to and fro inside the hall
of his house.
His wife after each day’s household chores,
espies his brisk walk and facial expressions
and sweating sturdy body
while slumping into the bed.
Whenever she badly needs proximity
he could read her mind and ‘hunger’ in her eyes
he like a machine throws himself into the bed
and  makes her feel ecstatic
and satiates ‘hunger in her eyes’.
The man, virtually a machine
still remains a mystery to her
but never divulges
the matter to anyone.....   

Monday, May 25, 2015

INVINCIBLE, INVISIBLE TIME


POEM

All days bring me boredom
except Sundays.
Sundays being holidays
we the employed can
spend our time and make merry
with our families.
All working days
bring me boredom and truancy
waking me up by my better-half
in the wee hours of the morning
I finish my routine one by one
and until I get dressed
up for the occasion and have my breakfast
thanks to my wife
who wakes up
early morning and prod me up by a
glass of bed-coffee
and like a truant child cursing all gods
who remain invisible and invincible.
My wife prepares my lunch and
fill the tiffin carrier with
food and curries and  put it in my briefcase
who can very well read my mind but never
expresses on her face.
Planting kisses on her cheeks
I walk along the
road and catch the
bus which speeds
thru the road for three
hours and drop me at my bus-stop.
From 10AM to 5PM
keeping engaged
before the computer
I finished the day’s work
and take my brief-case
and walk to the station
which passes thru my
land and drop me at the bus stop.
On reaching my 
house I am a totally
pathetic and tired man.
Dear reader
tell me my predicament I go thru
each day.
Wish all days were
Sundays….who is
here to listen to
 my desire and thereby
making time stand still….
Time never stands still…..


Saturday, May 23, 2015

THE COUPLE


POEM

One day evening a car
halted in front of our flats.
They must be man and
wife (may be)
got out of the car
with their belongings
and the driver of the
taxi helped them carry
the belongings to their flat
which was lying vacant
since a long time
they entered the flat 
kept the windows open.
The flat was already
kept tidy and clean for them by the
labourers of the  owner.
Everyday  barring Sundays
both woke down the stairs
at sharp 9AM in the
mornings and walked
down the path to the station.
He was a ‘serious’ man and was reticent.
He remained talkative only towards the lady.
We, the occupants of the adjacent flats
tried in vain to befriend them
but their answers
were in monosyllables.
The man was tall, sturdy and healthy.
He was perfect match for the lady.
He was well-dressed and always wore
full-sleeved shirts
and the lady’s sartorial elegance
was charming and attractive wearing
sleevless blouses.
In the evenings
with the street-lights
they reached the flats
switched on the lights and fan.
They were in the
flat for nearly three years.
One day a taxi stopped
in front of the building
and both of them with
their belongings
stepped down the stairs
and walked towards the car.
No idea, where they went.
Without bidding adieu
to the occupants of the building.
And we were recounting that evening
they reached the flat of our building.  
  


Tuesday, May 19, 2015

CRUCIFIXION AND RESURRECTION


POEM

Each time he was
crucified by his enemies
he resurrected.
Crucifixions followed by resurrection
went on for a long time
until he melted into thin air.
Whenever sins
and sinners multiplied on our soil
his incarnations took place
to rid the sins and sinners
from the face of earth.
When he got fed up from 
incarnations galore
in these strange times
he has stopped his incarnations
have been vanished.
Today
we feel like orphans
thrown to the abyss
and the wars, civil wars, terror
and violence shedding rivers of blood
we pray you
to appear on the earth
and wash away
the last terrorist on earth  and
the stoppage of wars, civil wars, violence
and deaths and displacements of millions
and malevolent dictators
from this dirty
soulless, heartless
world, for ever….

so as to herald a bright new dawn.

Monday, May 18, 2015

THE MOON


POEM

In my early days
while walking down
the azure sky
together with my father
who was the first man
who showed me
the moon and stars
up above the sky.
I always longed for the golden moon.
I always cried for the golden moon
and on listening to
my stubborn attitude and pleas
my father would assure me
he would certainly bring the moon to you
when you are grown up
and consoled me.
Taking him for granted
I would repose my faith in him.
In the meantime
I grew up
and with the infinite time
playing tricks
my beloved father left for
his heavenly abode.
Now that I am an young man
and on glancing the moonlit sky
I saw my father once in a while
and he rained his love and blessings which
made me happy and cheerful
and the nostalgia embraced me
in abundance.
One day I would also
grow up and I evolve
into an old man and
join my father and would spend
my golden days with him.
Life on earth, you know is
always cyclic as long as we spend our
days on earth…..


Saturday, May 16, 2015

URBAN TO SEMI-URBAN

POEM

Days seem
to be exceptionally long and
boring in this part of the land.
To sit idly without
any jobs is simply put is unthinkable.
In the city where we were living
familiar faces were
dime a dozen.
While coming out of the
residence during the
evening walks.
I always kept on smiling and pleasing.
To return a smile
to those who smiled at
me even though some
are strange faces.
It is almost six kilometers away from
the city
this is a semi-urban area.
The crowd, the business establishments,
hotels, cinemas, super-speciality, hospitals, studios
a number of vehicles
tooting and hooting
speeding along are
absent in this part of the area.
Though flats and 
villas are seen everywhere
all faces are unfamiliar.
To escape from the
monotony of everyday existence
I have a number of
options up my sleeve
like reading, writing.
Television watching,
listening to music
which lifts me
to an ethereal world
forgetting sorrows
and daily evening walks.
Though nostalgia is not an
apt word it is something equivalent
to explain my feelings.

     

   

DEVILS PREACHING SCRIPTURES – ‘SATYAMEVA JAYATE’?

Amir Khan, the versatile actor of Bollywood was the cultural ambassador of India. And the credit goes to Ambika Soni who was the Minister of Information and Broadcasting in the UPA govt.
After the UPA govt collapsed he is not seen on the cultural scene and the credit goes to National Defence Alliance govt led by Narendra Modi. This does not mean that I am an unabashed admirer of Modi govt. I have nothing to do with any parties or govts.
Amir Khan’s still is a household name of each citizen across India.
First he played the role of appearing on the visual media enlightening the citizens to desist from polluting the surroundings and keeping them clean to attract tourists especially foreign tourists thereby creating a good and lasting impression to the tourists and the citizens as a whole. In other words advising the citizens across India making the citizens to talk – ‘Athithi Devo Bhava’ meaning ‘treat the tourists as Gods’. Nowadays that is not seen on the miniscreens since a new government assumed office one year back.
Next he wrote about ‘Sathyameva Jayate’ in newspapers for the newspaper readers. The sum total of message was ‘let the truth prevail’. His highly appreciated column touched upon morals and ethics and make us proud of ourselves by touching upon various subjects in the society. His ‘Satyameva Jayate’ conquered the hearts of many a citizen across India. Among the citizens who appreciated versatile actor too include thousands of us silently and lakhs and lakhs of Indians who lauded the gentleman.
Thirteen years ago Bollywood’s muscle man – Salman Khan – who was reportedly driving his car in an inebriated condition overran street-side dwellers who don’t have even roofs over their heads and killed a poor man, injured a few in the thick of night, was reported the media.
Instead of owning up the responsibility and approaching the nearest police station he ran away from the site to his flat in Bandra, Mumbai’s suburban queen leaving the car on the street side. A brave man no doubt…….
The sessions court sentenced him four years in jail which confirmed that Salman Khan was the real culprit and none was included in the crime going by the evidences.
Immediately the defence lawyer approached Mumbai High Court on behalf of Salman. Harish Salve, one of the renowned lawyers of India took up his appeal. The next day morning the first to reach his flat was none other than his close friend Amir Khan the so-called cultural ambassador of past to console his intimate friend Salman Khan. Amir Khan consoled him and he was sure that the verdict of the Mumbai High Court Judge would be favouring the muscle man. Close on the heels of Amir Khan’s arrival fellow stars reached his flat to comfort the muscleman. Conspicuous by the absence were Amitabh Bachan, junior Bachan and his wife Aiswarya Rai, which is self-Explanatory.
While Salman Khan was busy chatting with his co-stars a verbal fight by lawyers for and against the sessions court verdict.
As expected the verdict went in favour of Salman. The HighCourt thus nullified the verdict of sessions court null and void. The HighCourt suspended the verdict and the bail was extended upto July 10.
Now that his fellow stars are happy and satisfied including former cultural ambassador Amir Khan.
Mr.Khan, how long will you wear this mask like devils preaching scriptures? Mr Khan may I ask you one question which is none other than that whether a street dweller’s life has no value? Mr.Khan could you keep away  from playing the role of cultural ambassador and confine yourself in the tinsel world and prevail upon your colleague in the tinsel world to help the street dwellers to atone for the sins like his rash and drunken driving?

Platitudes won’t help like the politicians who preach from the podiums 24X7. 

Monday, May 4, 2015

THE GARBAGE


POEM

Carrying the sweet,
bitter, nasty and nauseating waste,
with the darkness
getting thickened and
spreading across the land
with the day turning night,
the sweet, bitter, nasty and
nauseating garbage
the odour of which is
unbearable throughout
are dumped in the roaring sea
which is like an insane woman.
And the day hands over
its responsibility
to the coming morrow
dreaming about an entirely fresh dawn.
And the bitter, nasty and nauseating garbage
seem to have vanished forever.
But the gone day
knows  fairly well that
everyday is the replication of
sweet, bitter, nasty, nauseating waste
piling up threatening the very
existence of mankind.
The fun is that
each man’s or woman’s
undoings are the cause
of everything dirty.
Still the gone days
dream about a fresh  
and happy new dawn.
While penning
about the subject
each day I can hear the waste collector blowing
his whistle
in front of each house for
collecting the garbage.

Saturday, May 2, 2015

HER WOES


POEM

If I mistook him for an alcoholic
it was not my fault.
Everyday, driving his car
he reached his flat in the late
hours of the night.
Each day she waited for him
without plunging into sleep
until he reached the flat
though drowsiness pushed
her to lay asleep.
Except me,
all the neighbouring flats 
sank in darkness with the occupants
diving deep into the river of deep sleep.
I do have a habit of going to sleep
very late as I did have
a lot to read and write.
On hearing his knocks on the door 
she opened the door with dark  clouds
of anger and sorrow enveloping her face. 
She couldn’t keep mum for long
though she suppressed
her anger until he
tried to cajole her with a broad smile.
She ventilated her emotions
directed against him
but he never got angry
and silently listened to
her angry outbursts.
One day she even went
to the extent of threatening
him with filing a divorce petition
if he was bent upon
reaching very late into the flat.
This was not because
he did have any extra-marital affairs.
Her faith in him was rock-solid
and was aware of his deep
love and attachment towards her.
Neither was he an alcoholic.
One night I could hear her words
piercing my ears ‘work , work and work
day to midnight without
spending some time for her and two children.
Then I could reach the conclusion that
he was not an alcoholic, but a workaholic.
May be workaholism

too is a kind of ‘disease’ like alcoholism.  

Friday, May 1, 2015

NATURE’S FURY


POEM

On an unexpected moment
in the thick of night
lightnings followed by
thundershowers
while the people of
the land were  in
deep slumber
an earthquake  of
higher intensity
followed by aftershocks
struck the land
and the earth seemed turning upside down
many a time
took away the lives
of hundreds of thousands of people
and the buildings and historic monuments
came crumbling down
leaving thousands trapped under the debris.
People who awoke from slumber
ran to the open spaces seeking refuge
and as many ran to the neighbouring countries
leaving all their belongings
to escape from another quake
of higher intensity
though it was raining profusely.
Countries from near and afar
sent their helicopters
dropped food packets
and essential medicines were sent
by their men
to help those caught
under the rubble and
took out both the
dead and those who were alive.
The fear of an epidemic affecting
several citizens loomed large
with the rain and hail storms
showing no signs of abetting
across the land.
The rescue operations
which were going on a war-footing
had to be stopped
midway due to inclement
weather with hundreds
still trapped under the rubble.
Imagine the nature’s fury
striking anywhere, anytime
ie. at unexpected moments
claiming the lives of hundreds of
thousands of people
when its resources are  exploited

with its patience reaching its nadir……