AWAITING SPRING

POEM

When will the dusky blankets of

gloomy days be torn away from my life?

When will the dark clouds

of despair and needling pain

vanish from my life

clearing the path for

the rise of a bright dawn

to wake me up and cheer me up

to my heart’s content?

When will the spring

bloom before me making

me elated and delighted

and lift me to the top of

the world and enliven

my sagging spirits   to

disappear from my life

and let me drink the 

elixir of life?

Will my life blossom

in the garden of hopes and the

scent of blooms spread

across the land conveying

the message of my

thrill and enormous,

inexplicable pleasure to all?

And will I meet my

estranged love-bird fly

to me, kiss me , caress me

and embrace me and

live together for the

rest of our life?

  

SPARKS OF HOPE

POEM

His remaining sparks

of hope melted into thin air.

The flame of life, died down.

His dream of a fresh lease of life

flew away to an unknown territory.

On hearing the news of

his mercy petition, rejected –

which was the last straw-

whether his heart missed 

one or two beats was known only to him.

Resigned to his fate

he sat on the bare floor

hiding his head between his folded legs

like an ostrich.

In the meanwhile the

hangman’s noose was getting ready for him.

After a prolonged spell of uncertainty

he slept quietly

till the wee hours of the morning.

He was  seeing before him

the  last crucial moments

of him walking to the gallows.

Whether he deserved a capital punishment

was the question flashed before the eyes of

several human rights activists

and several citizens  across the nation

who struggled tirelessly

for his escape from the gallows…..

The clock  was ticking

fast or so it seemed………..

      

CORRIDORS

POEM

We walk along the

corridors of the castle

of life each day.

While we are on the

move, we meet several  

persons some familiar ones

and many others  strangers.

If by chance, we meet

familiar faces, we gift broad smiles

of familiarity to them

and they never fail to

return the same in equal measure. 

In these days and age 

we are always in a hurry

no matter whatever be the reasons.

We never care to mingle 

with them and exchange pleasantries with them.

Each day according to

our will and pleasure

we choose different  corridors, still

we continue  to meet the

familiar faces as well  as the strange ones.

Corridors aplenty,  walkers aplenty 

every second, every minute, every hour

to be precise throughout 24X7 like an ever  flowing river.

This is the sum total of life but

with the passage of time

faces change, continue to change

and there is no escape

from that reality……  

HER UNSEEN, UNWANTED TEARS

POEM

Her residence is a

poem sculpted in granite and marble.

A visual treat to

the onlookers which

for ever lingers before their eyes.

The gate itself is 

a grand spectacle

with two stuffed lions about

to roar which instill fears in

the minds of passersby

mistaking them alive about to

pounce on the former.

All, thanks to her husband abroad. 

 Her wardrobe is a

world of colourful sarees

costly, attractive and 

scintillating which are

exquisite, enchanting, enthralling blondes 

smile at her when

ever she finds time to

open the wardrobe and

watches and passes her

fingers over each of them

with boundless pride,

all, thanks to her husband

holding a lucrative profession abroad.

She has kept her shining and precious

gold ornaments and invaluable diamonds

costing more than a crore rupees

in the safe custody lockers

of a reputed bank in the city

and a huge bank balance

which too amounting crores in the form

of savings bank and fixed deposits

all, thanks to her husband

holding a lucrative profession abroad.

Two sons both in their teens

study in prestigious, reputed public schools

at Ooty,

a marvelous landscape which

too is a visual feast

to the tourists frequenting and

elites in the society

all, thanks to her loving husband who holds

a lucrative profession abroad.

Three ultramodern

expensive cars wait in

the porch always at her service.

All, thanks to her

loving husband who holds

a lucrative profession

abroad and both though

so far yet so near contact thru

frequent cell phone calls.

She with her maid-servant lives together

but not that peacefully and happily.

Her past is a

chain of nightmares which haunt

her forcing her to sob silently

with tears wetting her

pillows and all her nights are sleepless.

Her unforgettable

days poverty and hunger

the old dilapidated house

where her poor parents and

her starving siblings

not two or three

but more than ten of them

the days she and her

siblings dreamt for at least a pair of sarees,

shirts and trousers

at least a single ornament

to her and her sisters

and those fateful days school authorities

denied them permission to

enter the classes for not

paying the fees and for not wearing uniforms

with none coming forward to

extend helping hands

all make her weep uncontrollably but suppressing them.

Her siblings still pull on faraway places

facing unlimited sufferings and hardships

but they out of false pride

never stretches their hands infront of her for help
like beggars
for her love relationship and subsequent marriage

with a pariah (lower caste).   

     

LIKE A GORDIAN KNOT

POEM

Like an elephant

trampling a person to death

some developing nations reeling

under the onslaught of debt crisis

they desperately trying

to escape from the

clutches of being paupers

seize the stick of austerity measures

reluctantly and with heart-ache

bowing to the demands of

international shylocks and big sharks

like IMF, World Bank

and developed nations

and borrow huge amounts  to tide over

the crisis keeping in

their minds future bleak scenario

staring at them like wild animals.

Nowadays each ordinary

family slap austerity measures to pull on

tightening belts by the family members….

Debt-trap is like a

gordian knot which

we ordinary human beings

desperately try to unknot……

without scenting victory at all…….  

INFINITY

POEM

If I am the Sun

of my little family

my wife, children

and grand daughter

are my satellites

like the moon

circumambulating Earth

and She in turn

travelling around the Sun.

Once

I too was a satellite,

circumambulating

my father who was the Sun of

our family around whom

like I, my mother and

my siblings were

travelling around.

TIME is INFINITY

and from generation

to generation Suns 

and satellites go on changing,

changing, changing

and the ULTIMATE TRUTH

would remain eternally bright…..

IN THIS NEW AGE

POEM

Unrequitted love

manifests un upward

trend looking like

rockets shooting

upwards penetrating the sky. 

Dedicated love has

turned out to be a

cheap commodity in

the market of life in this age

of mushrooming live –in relationships.

True, dedicated love

continues to be here

on the very face of

this earth like an invaluable jewel

but very rare.

Pragmatism has taken

over in every kind of

love relationships and other

spheres  of life.

Not let up friends(?)

from this vicious circle

in this age youths

and others decide, either this or that

as long as it is of pomp and pageantry………