Thursday, January 25, 2018

after Carnival( Guardian)

After Carnival( Guardian)
 Being pretty be stable
Ye,merry pairs of pretty eyes,
Pretty lips and slim structures,
Be cautious while going in ferry wheel,
If you reel or whirl on the house of mirrors
Hold on tight, hold on right with the
fear and principle, anything might happen
in a fraction of second.
All fine, if you are  a lovely pair,
Can be giddy in the zipper wheel
Can have a loosening feel,
Double or half, look through
The mirrors, be steady and stable.




h


rotten orange
tasty in his
mouth

haiku

rice balls on the bank
grandma’s soul
lingering

 river side
 sieves and clothes in
 endless queue

Friday, January 19, 2018

A take after “Moving on” Guardian)

A take after “Moving on” Guardian)

You call it abattoir, I call it slaughter house.
But the deed is the same in all quarters.
How often I crossed that horrendous sight
On my way to market, from my location
away from the busy throngs of crowds, coins.
Blood oozing, woe to the hands that raised the
Cruel weapon in the name of trade and taste.  
One cut into two halves, chop the head and legs
Deed is done. Some are hung upside down;
My village made blood and tannery;
Coal. Charcoal, and logs of wood,
Firewood embers the  other side.
Things are drastically changed now
As change is inevitable everywhere.

Now it is transformed into colorful
Garment store for all  ages;
I see the colorful garments hanging
In the wardrobe on hangers;
Those days were the animal’s skin
In the same spot; What a difference
Time has  affected! Autos and mobiles
Frequency of trade not for tongue

But for skin and celluloid show.

haiku

  Her birthday
every corner is a
mushroom of ants

haiku

 crayon
 Color in child’s
 lips

 full ripe
 tomato’s  skin
 newborn’s  soft  texture

  winter’s chill
 I am the size of my
 Pet  puppy on bed



 the  dawn
its twitter a mantra
in the  air

paper boats
replacing  water  in
my pot

 river boats
 oars singing tales of
 forgotten days

riverside
paper boats
fueling my muse




Saturday, January 13, 2018

My days of hostel stay

My  days  of  hostel stay
 -
 It  is  not  a  room of one’s own
 but  meticulously shared by
 many  a  two legged, gulping
 their own predicament in hard times.
 Oft,gulped plain  soda ere trending
towards  coco cola  or the like of it.
 back to  seven  or  eight decades of
 unsophisticated living and life style
 threadbare in  our  view;
 no stringent  laws or stipulations,
 for the warden himself
 was the  self-willed owner.
 Each  corner of the same room
 was monopolized by ants’ rows
 all the more  by the edges of brooms.
 Egrets figure in my  diagram note
 now, recalling  those days of crows
 and  mynas  dancing in branches
 echoing through my windows.
 A room of one’s own still lingers
 in memory for it nurtured many
 fostering their  agile roots of learning.
 



   

Thursday, January 11, 2018

Airy march

 Bone flute ( Guardian)
Airy march
Yesterday the same swans on the
Foamy river, white feathered, brooding
In water, consoling us – the visitors by the
River in search of messages for their
Wounded hearts.  Divine as white and
Calm, yet emitting signals of serenity often;
Elders with pots, children with socks and
Youth vibrant with expectations of future’s
Living and lure thronging here, harken
The acoustics from afar, could be some
Commerce and trade delving into their
Riverside apparels. Today the clan
Swimming with a whooper cry on the
Blue; the bone flying and singing in mid air
Journeying to unknown destinations now.
On the banks we all sit and watch  the
Airy march sing their glory.





Thursday, January 04, 2018

A change in tone ( after Guardian)

A change in tone ( after Guardian)

  Welcome, come, into this fold,
  this  hearth which you frequented
  Not once, but oftener at your free will,
  but Time’s cruel naughty, jaunty
  excursions detered you for sometime.   
  Me ever extending arm of  cordiality
  You are welcome here.How often we
  Walked through the rustled path, held
  green in our hands, conversed with  them;
  My memory verdant with recordations   
  Of dinner and plates cling clang in
  Kitchen sink. Your hurried step homeward
  Was always ringing in and around the house.
  Now on the different path: some hiatus.
  Camphor with incense stick would enliven
  My spirits now in low flame.
  Things are different, still you are welcome
  Come feel free; yet the present differs
  From the past, easily identifiable.