Friday, September 13, 2019

wild flower

wild flower

 A  passage into wildflower meadow,
 where  Daisy and Celandine,grow
to please us although with a  name
of wild, growing and spreading fast
a kind of dominion free  and fast
unchecked with colorful flowers
until wind shakes while pink and bluebells
shower   their kindness  in spiraling mood;
they have their own roots  and  lifestyle ;
they have their own systematic  journey;
yet winds  will shed their thorns and thistles
a stage when  no more growth and spread.
They  too have their own  last stage and
A state  when they are not wanted;

Friday, September 06, 2019

A day in kitchen

A day in kitchen

 His  culinary experience on  a
 Day of festive gathering, in
 Battling, rattling utensils ,
 Cutlery of shine and pine,

 Straight on cucumber
And greens, leafy edible
Vegetables supple and sticky
His clock ticking every minute,

For he is conscious of lofty
Gathering and ensemble,
Party and repartee
 Cheering in cue and care.

Oil in frying pan bubble
And smoke wavy up ;
Deep fry of papads
Salads and soups in cups,

Dish ornamental and porcelain,
Spicy spinach and pickles
Tempting and demanding
For the day’s pride  and pleasure.

I reach home with a heart
Full of my duty done in utmost
 Satisfaction  and  stay in good looks
Of master’s  books and love endure.

Wednesday, September 04, 2019

Passing on to another

Passing on to another…

The red pomegranate on the bowl
be dissected into four segments,
both beauty and taste nullified
In minutes like chopping of tree’s
Blossoming and full blown vagrant
By crude farmer’s tillage when commerce
And e-commerce join hands to proceed
In their respective way. Same merciful
Hands of farmer  till now, watering and
Manuring aslant a  sword to fetch a
Bounteous yield in a different way.
Child picks up seeds amidst  juice
Like blood oozing, in dainty fingers;
Its pain smeared all over .Land being
Passed on to other unknown hands
When  loss  and benefit-- the  future
Mantras of  business  class.


Tuesday, September 03, 2019



   Not  a  flower of amaranthine  nature,
 but  a  buddy Rose of fragrance,
lasting on my buttonhole,
 with a smile of endurance
and grandeur, sits steady and firm

as  woman of   firm household
 minding and binding in the hearth.
A precious GIFT from her good self,
The  gentle serenading of Rose,
A move  0f lullaby  and sleep,

 Tapping around  white  garment
 Travelling all over as a  faithful
  Servant  clinging on ; a breeze afar
  Welcomes you with a  bliss
  Of boon passing on to the  Giver.

 A  morrow for all of us with a
Waking Dawn and buttonhole
 Smiling steady and stay ever.

Thursday, August 29, 2019

fter (Residence at Cambridg (Book Three, The Prelude)ks

After  (Residence at Cambridg
(Book Three, The Prelude)ks

I always loved  and looked into books
From cover page into every page of
Significance;  university halls  and every
Corner of library had its glory and catch
For my reading bent unabated; by sprinklers
Cool shady nooks  and walks, a thrill
of  partaking  Bliss of Nature.

Knowledge  in pursuit of sacred input,
While  memory  glows  tapping record
Rooms of ancient buildings once dominant
Adjoing the  library. The philosophy of
Simple gait  and upright thinking  ever
In the blood – predominant factor .
The  HOUSE OF GOD should ever be
By my side  with HIS PROTECTION.

Wednesday, August 21, 2019

Marriage ( after Guardian)

MARRIAGE( After  guardian)

What  is marriage ? simply
A union of two physical entities,
Or soul searching, phenomenon,
Dipped  in consoling music of
Heavenly  aura encompassing our
 Whole  bodies and beings;

What is marriage, a play of
Dolls  and  cutting cakes
Enrobed in silks  and feasts
Gala spent in  acoustics
 Far reaching beyond
auditorium of colorful  show!

Parks  and  railway station platforms
Inside compartments, love blossoms
A fruition of feelings ,touching
And untouching, simply touch and go ;

In some nullification and rebirths
In rebirths of marriages set and go;
Candles   and candelabras  ever  glow
In halls of seasons and weddings.

Certainly a  mirage, if you perceive
In limited perspectives.

Friday, August 16, 2019

Our Breath of moment- notes of Muses.

Our  Breath of  moment- notes  of Muses.

We are  the notes, we are  the sacred
 Notations of  ever  vibrant in our voices,
 Our ebullient strings, our thrill  and rhapsody;
Truth  is  the order  of  the Day,plain is
Our  medium ,consolation is our dictum;
We  sing in the morn, by the evergreen  horn,
Of hanging boughs, sirened  by  chirps,
Of parrots  and  mynas; we  can see many
Sights with profound  clairvoyance ;
Repeat the   sounds of distant messages
Still ringing ; our present in front
Taking  its dynamic form, full
Fledged reflection  in its melodic
Norms. Sheep or swain, man or matter
It is all the same, it is our moment
Of sacred  bliss, irrespective of snowy
Mounds we carry our mission
With zeal unchecked, it is our
Moment of  the day.