..the wily contender...
How swiftly does time fly,
with every passing day,
however hard I may try,
can I change its way?
Out of my hands the grains slip,
slowly on their own accord,
quickly,as I tighten my grip,
Stop it..i beg you,Lord….
Let me live,some more,
the moments I relish,
with those whom I adore,
whose memories I will cherish…
For the time if it passes,
Will never return to me,
Upon plunging itself into the abyss,
Of the limitless eternity.
Indeed how helpless is man.
for, the time always wins,
leaving behind,after a span,
a lifetime of warts and chagrins…..
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
The day i met myself.....
Oh!What a lovely day it was,
my heart sang cheerfully because,
everything looked rosy and bright beyond,
power,comforts and of all things I was fond,
all were mine….thoughts soared high,
I knew..I could touch the sky!..
There was a tap at my door,quite unheralded,
I opened and stared….indeed very startled.
Before me stood a stranger,I did not know,
Was it an apparition ,some ghastly shadow?
Stranger said-“Friend,don’t you know me?...
I,your own self…how inseperable were we..
Back then,you were so frank and prudent,
till your fate and pride played truant,
and you betrayed me and went away,
chasing the mammon-with whom I had a fray.
We looked so alike then…but now..
your face looks haggard with puckered brow.
Now ..your false hawklike eyes are cold,
that warmth,that glow at hrad to behold…
how ignorant you are towards the plight,
of your ilk-you believe that “might is right”….
You feel that you are God,
who can change things with a nod.
Wealth,fame,ego-beckoning you like a mirage,
have made you vain and selfish by and large.
You speak only to appease others,
your pride is the only thing that matters,
slow down,before its too late, O friend,
What will you answer God ,in the end?”
I stamped in rage,threatening a fisticuff,
and then,in a hurry, left in a huff.
But his words had surely impaled my heart,
in some way or the other had exposed the wart.
Now the plush room seemed like a cage,
and I was reminded of the age-old adage:
“Money can give you a house but not a home…
bed but not sleep”-had read in a book in the tome.
That day,no sweet-talks,no pretexts I made,
I cared not a bit what the people said,
I helped the needy who came my way,
and had my fill of the fresh breeze at the bay.
When I returned home,tired and worn out,
I didn’t find my friend about.
Hamstrung and sad,when I went to my room..
almost sure of my imminent doom…
as I faced the mirror near the rack,
my self,my dear old friend smiled back!!
my heart sang cheerfully because,
everything looked rosy and bright beyond,
power,comforts and of all things I was fond,
all were mine….thoughts soared high,
I knew..I could touch the sky!..
There was a tap at my door,quite unheralded,
I opened and stared….indeed very startled.
Before me stood a stranger,I did not know,
Was it an apparition ,some ghastly shadow?
Stranger said-“Friend,don’t you know me?...
I,your own self…how inseperable were we..
Back then,you were so frank and prudent,
till your fate and pride played truant,
and you betrayed me and went away,
chasing the mammon-with whom I had a fray.
We looked so alike then…but now..
your face looks haggard with puckered brow.
Now ..your false hawklike eyes are cold,
that warmth,that glow at hrad to behold…
how ignorant you are towards the plight,
of your ilk-you believe that “might is right”….
You feel that you are God,
who can change things with a nod.
Wealth,fame,ego-beckoning you like a mirage,
have made you vain and selfish by and large.
You speak only to appease others,
your pride is the only thing that matters,
slow down,before its too late, O friend,
What will you answer God ,in the end?”
I stamped in rage,threatening a fisticuff,
and then,in a hurry, left in a huff.
But his words had surely impaled my heart,
in some way or the other had exposed the wart.
Now the plush room seemed like a cage,
and I was reminded of the age-old adage:
“Money can give you a house but not a home…
bed but not sleep”-had read in a book in the tome.
That day,no sweet-talks,no pretexts I made,
I cared not a bit what the people said,
I helped the needy who came my way,
and had my fill of the fresh breeze at the bay.
When I returned home,tired and worn out,
I didn’t find my friend about.
Hamstrung and sad,when I went to my room..
almost sure of my imminent doom…
as I faced the mirror near the rack,
my self,my dear old friend smiled back!!
Friday, May 29, 2009
A Commune With Divinity...
A dialogue with the Almighty...
One evening , watching the rose-dyed pinkish sky,
slowly being swallowed by the night in the offing,
in me there arose a sudden urge for questioning,
“God , why do all things have to die?”…….
“Why is it that the mighty citadel,
standing tall and proud, seemingly impregnable,
someday has to bite the dust and crumble,
with nature and mortals assisting the vandal?”...
“Why does the exotic flower in full bloom,
after some days shrinks and withers away,
just like youth in its vibrancy so gay,
gives way to aging-when greyness starts to loom?”....
“Why do our footprints on the sands in the shore,
get washed away by the frothy waves,
which come and go, as the sea raves,
leaving no trace whatsoever of things from the yore?"...
“Why oh,why..does everything mundane,
one day or the other has to meet its end,
like we mortals-touted to be ‘God-send’,
meet death someday-peacefully or with pain?”…..
God at once replied-“It’s a rule of life, my dear,
a virtuous cycle infusing great novelty,
‘coz the earth’s veins crave for vitality,
every minute, of a day, in a year.”
“So that the new gush of blood in the earth does renew,
the hopes of a much better world to live in,
with that tweaking in the ephemeral life’s din,
for the old order always changeth to yield place to the new”……..
One evening , watching the rose-dyed pinkish sky,
slowly being swallowed by the night in the offing,
in me there arose a sudden urge for questioning,
“God , why do all things have to die?”…….
“Why is it that the mighty citadel,
standing tall and proud, seemingly impregnable,
someday has to bite the dust and crumble,
with nature and mortals assisting the vandal?”...
“Why does the exotic flower in full bloom,
after some days shrinks and withers away,
just like youth in its vibrancy so gay,
gives way to aging-when greyness starts to loom?”....
“Why do our footprints on the sands in the shore,
get washed away by the frothy waves,
which come and go, as the sea raves,
leaving no trace whatsoever of things from the yore?"...
“Why oh,why..does everything mundane,
one day or the other has to meet its end,
like we mortals-touted to be ‘God-send’,
meet death someday-peacefully or with pain?”…..
God at once replied-“It’s a rule of life, my dear,
a virtuous cycle infusing great novelty,
‘coz the earth’s veins crave for vitality,
every minute, of a day, in a year.”
“So that the new gush of blood in the earth does renew,
the hopes of a much better world to live in,
with that tweaking in the ephemeral life’s din,
for the old order always changeth to yield place to the new”……..
Thursday, May 28, 2009
straight from the heart.....
A Loving Letter…..
Dear Ma, how are you??...long time!!..
dreamt about you and Pa last night,
our trio together in a plush mansion sublime,
against the backdrop of hills, poppies..’neath the morning sun bright….
Savouring every moment as if it were the last,
With the hands of the clock never ticking fast…
Upon waking up,I found my room still and empty,
bringing to my mind the emptiness in your life,
wrought on your heart that is so so dainty,
ever since I came out here, where the rains are rife,
reminding me of the tears streaming down your eyes,
missing me every moment….now ma..no lies!!!
I heard you crying silently that night in your room,
the following day I was supposed to set out,
even Pa’s puffy eyes betrayed …anxiety and gloom,
worries about his little gal had kept him pacing about.
That morning when I left, you cried like your heart would break,
For the first time showing the weakling in you-all for my sake.
Alas..why has it dawned upon me-now of all the times bygone,
That how kind and nice God has been to me,
that to such caring and wonderful parents, I was born.
Tell Pa,I miss his strong shoulders-like the boughs of a tree,
always there to cry on when something went awry,
terribly missing you ma-our long chats-when there was no need to hurry.
'Coz the place where I stay is a very busy one,
there is no time for heart-to-heart talks like ours.
Though you would have been proud,had you known,
how matured your gal has turned in dealing with chores,
of making world a better place to live in…and
having pledged to make everyone’s future on earth grand!!
Now for some confession-even I had cried ,
till dawn that night-feigning that some particulate matter,
was pricking instead-when u had asked-sorry I lied,
so that it would make you both feel stronger and better.
Do take care of yourself and Pa, dear mother,
all else is fine-will join you both some time later.
love......
Dear Ma, how are you??...long time!!..
dreamt about you and Pa last night,
our trio together in a plush mansion sublime,
against the backdrop of hills, poppies..’neath the morning sun bright….
Savouring every moment as if it were the last,
With the hands of the clock never ticking fast…
Upon waking up,I found my room still and empty,
bringing to my mind the emptiness in your life,
wrought on your heart that is so so dainty,
ever since I came out here, where the rains are rife,
reminding me of the tears streaming down your eyes,
missing me every moment….now ma..no lies!!!
I heard you crying silently that night in your room,
the following day I was supposed to set out,
even Pa’s puffy eyes betrayed …anxiety and gloom,
worries about his little gal had kept him pacing about.
That morning when I left, you cried like your heart would break,
For the first time showing the weakling in you-all for my sake.
Alas..why has it dawned upon me-now of all the times bygone,
That how kind and nice God has been to me,
that to such caring and wonderful parents, I was born.
Tell Pa,I miss his strong shoulders-like the boughs of a tree,
always there to cry on when something went awry,
terribly missing you ma-our long chats-when there was no need to hurry.
'Coz the place where I stay is a very busy one,
there is no time for heart-to-heart talks like ours.
Though you would have been proud,had you known,
how matured your gal has turned in dealing with chores,
of making world a better place to live in…and
having pledged to make everyone’s future on earth grand!!
Now for some confession-even I had cried ,
till dawn that night-feigning that some particulate matter,
was pricking instead-when u had asked-sorry I lied,
so that it would make you both feel stronger and better.
Do take care of yourself and Pa, dear mother,
all else is fine-will join you both some time later.
love......
attempts @poetry
THAT CHILDHOOD…..
Reminiscences of my childhood keeping rushing forth in my mind-some fresh..some perished…..
Oh those small innocent precious moments ,I have always cherished,
But alongside them, the thoughts of the childhoods less fortunate,
By way of my thoughts ,in my mind emanate.
Of those childhoods which have been devoid,
Of rights ,making ‘happiness’ sound perfectly void..
Their breaths snatched away from some with unabashed brutatlity,
Even before they could come to the world as an entity.
Or that childhood which lived for an iota without a name,
And died wretchedly with its owner –bearing the same anonymity with which it came.
Of that childhood led in the abominable apparition,
Of obliquy and prostitution..
The larcerated youngs minds struggling in multitude,
Some with non-existent disposition but some with a languor of fortitude.
But till when can this courage survive,
With the slow gait childhood is allowed to thrive?
The circumstance coupled with the ruthless world,
Bent upon destroying the very innocence of childhood at its lithe mould…
This unanswered query which faces,
Every heart that grimaces,
The rigors experienced by countless lives,
Simply marauded with invisible knives.
My tribute to these less fortunates,
And a prayer to God, never to scourge a child to such a state……
Reminiscences of my childhood keeping rushing forth in my mind-some fresh..some perished…..
Oh those small innocent precious moments ,I have always cherished,
But alongside them, the thoughts of the childhoods less fortunate,
By way of my thoughts ,in my mind emanate.
Of those childhoods which have been devoid,
Of rights ,making ‘happiness’ sound perfectly void..
Their breaths snatched away from some with unabashed brutatlity,
Even before they could come to the world as an entity.
Or that childhood which lived for an iota without a name,
And died wretchedly with its owner –bearing the same anonymity with which it came.
Of that childhood led in the abominable apparition,
Of obliquy and prostitution..
The larcerated youngs minds struggling in multitude,
Some with non-existent disposition but some with a languor of fortitude.
But till when can this courage survive,
With the slow gait childhood is allowed to thrive?
The circumstance coupled with the ruthless world,
Bent upon destroying the very innocence of childhood at its lithe mould…
This unanswered query which faces,
Every heart that grimaces,
The rigors experienced by countless lives,
Simply marauded with invisible knives.
My tribute to these less fortunates,
And a prayer to God, never to scourge a child to such a state……
attempts @ poetry
Summers
On such a sultry ,hot eve,
after a long agonizing day,
the cool caressing breeze makes it hard to believe,
the day time rigors wrought by the tropical sun’s foray
burning the body but extinguishing the blaze of human soul
as if the sufferings of us mortals is its only goal….
On such a sultry ,hot eve,
after a long agonizing day,
the cool caressing breeze makes it hard to believe,
the day time rigors wrought by the tropical sun’s foray
burning the body but extinguishing the blaze of human soul
as if the sufferings of us mortals is its only goal….
attempts @poetry
THE DUSK OF THE GODS
It was like a slow fuse in the act of exploding,
a barrel of gunpower…making everything in its wake worth nothing…
The sound of the whipping of the winds ..like a lash,
Making all and sundry….pray for it to be not too harsh…
The diabolic wind swept morosely through the place,
Slaughtering everything mortal coming its way..devoid of any grace..
leaving them to die wretchedly and lie rotten or bloating in the water,
Without even a shroud-save the gloomy dark sky as shelter.
For even those who were spared by fortune,
the wind had left everything rummaged up in a dune,
of dead kins to mourn for,
only tears, wails and corpses in store….
It was like a war in which both the victorious and the vanquished,
are crushed ,after the little friction turned-blast exploded and got them annihilated.
As, so did the innocent dead,
fight with the ill-gotten fate to which they were sentenced,
before the coldness of eternity overcame them,
only their silence to sing a ghastly requiem,
of their struggles to save dear life,
which was as in vain as the cut of a blunt knife.
After an unlimited destruction wrought on us, even the wind,
Died away imminently…died the death of a ruthless fiend..
Leaving them again to the mercy of God and fate,
In a numb indifferent state…..
It was indeed the Dusk of the Gods…
Their hardness towards their plight…the “great” almighty……..
It was like a slow fuse in the act of exploding,
a barrel of gunpower…making everything in its wake worth nothing…
The sound of the whipping of the winds ..like a lash,
Making all and sundry….pray for it to be not too harsh…
The diabolic wind swept morosely through the place,
Slaughtering everything mortal coming its way..devoid of any grace..
leaving them to die wretchedly and lie rotten or bloating in the water,
Without even a shroud-save the gloomy dark sky as shelter.
For even those who were spared by fortune,
the wind had left everything rummaged up in a dune,
of dead kins to mourn for,
only tears, wails and corpses in store….
It was like a war in which both the victorious and the vanquished,
are crushed ,after the little friction turned-blast exploded and got them annihilated.
As, so did the innocent dead,
fight with the ill-gotten fate to which they were sentenced,
before the coldness of eternity overcame them,
only their silence to sing a ghastly requiem,
of their struggles to save dear life,
which was as in vain as the cut of a blunt knife.
After an unlimited destruction wrought on us, even the wind,
Died away imminently…died the death of a ruthless fiend..
Leaving them again to the mercy of God and fate,
In a numb indifferent state…..
It was indeed the Dusk of the Gods…
Their hardness towards their plight…the “great” almighty……..
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