Saturday, April 28, 2018

No Hands


No   Hands
He  rides  fast, good rider,
With   Determination,  craft in hands
Two wheels  propelling  ever his
Gamut -  all for  a  training for race;
Leading for speed up in bike
To fetch water in  plastic vessels
In times of dire necessity and
drought  from hamlet to hamlet
while the inmates of  old plastered
house  wait in anxiety, and grandma
walking with  a stick   adjusting her
thick glasses and rim over her hanging
ears  and   measuring time   by the  sun
transcending to the Western horizon.

Careless of Calamity and Death
Possible     evil knocking him down,
 He drives faster and faster. Mind and
Soul  always competing with  self
Flying away, does he think of his
Wife  and children and kith
Dependent upon him.  Spirit
Runs   faster than logic. Still  his
Hands on;  no hands but will only
Competes, downward his journey.



                     

                                                                                       




Friday, April 20, 2018

Guardian’s behind the scenes : empire

Guardian’s   behind the scenes : empire

This  moment of vignette
and  blonde    not  Trite   but   colorful,
the  much  awaited  Ballet this precious
hour  on this  stage,  steady
and  inspiring  after  ceaseless
 practices  and   training  behind
the   scene,  come  to please us,
 the  audience; yet who knows
what passes  between their  hearts
and  secret  layers of rumination;
mark  an imprint in our hearts.
Beneath  the dry and glitter,
The layers of paint,  another stay
and  story -  behest not to come
to surface. Their   nimble move   are
 symbols of immortality.



 



Guardian’s behind the scenes : empire


Guardian’s   behind the scenes : empire

This  moment of vignette
and  blonde    not  Trite   but   colorful,
the  much  awaited  Ballet this precious
hour  on this  stage,  steady
and  inspiring  after  ceaseless
 practices  and   training  behind
the   scene,  come  to please us,
 the  audience; yet who knows
what passes  between their  hearts
and  secret  layers of rumination;
mark  an imprint in our hearts.
Beneath  the dry and glitter,
The layers of paint,  another stay
and  story -  behest not to come
to surface. Their   nimble move   are
 symbols of immortality.



 



Saturday, April 14, 2018

TAKE AFTER GUARDIAN’S “ THE SLOE WAS LOST IN FLOWER”


TAKE  AFTER  GUARDIAN’S      THE SLOE WAS LOST IN FLOWER”

 They had  a walk in April’s
 Inspiring  hour making promises
 And prospects to further a 
 Safe entourage.   Snow and sloe
 Sat in their memory, how ere
Lost in flower and foliage,
Singing many   a  romance
and   leading and misleading
the pair, I know not. How only
lost in   lies and lives.

Far away, after so many
Days amidst thickening bower
Cold winds brewing, freezing
Their hour,  their  ambitions
 Encountering many thistles;
Yet, hour of Truth before and
Uniting both in wedlock betimes.


Saturday, April 07, 2018

Looking back( Guardian ) class photogrph


Looking back ( Guardian ) class photograph           


The other day-cleaning my shelves,
Clearing up piles of records, chanced
 Photos Disfigured and edgeless in
Their roomy corners  assigned.
School days  unforgettable ,formative
Years and stay  deep in your calling.                              
Home work and birthdays and gardening
Only in our  remembrance tools.
Tit bits of politics only from our
Newspaper reading, we were more
Oriented towards games and bird watching.


Yes! “ One foot in childhood  and one foot                 
In adolescence.”                  
Looking back this old photograph.                    .
A nostalgia ever drumming in
Your ears. What happened to those
Uniforms and  shoes and  socks           
Which were  a bug and force  for us
In school hours, tightening our  move
And freedom. Scared of bombs  and wars
As any school child would do. Generations
Of school children thumping in records  :
Yet ours is unique in  photos.                                             


                     

                                                                                       




What if the Sun Shines

    Me born, denied  of   vision,
    my dark room  like x ray theater;          
    my living luxury with unbounded
   Forte. What if the seasons blossom
  with respective smiles, up swelling  like
  springs of water taps in corners of
  railway platforms, for me the dark
  is my ordained luxury.

   A gentle tap   going afore
  when compelled by necessity
  on the traffic ridden roads, sun beams
  glare at me impartial, jasmine and rose
  those captivating, nosedrils    piercing          
   fragrance, foray that they belong to
   their category, for I see them not.

  All  these  for   the sense of my being,
 Flip for the skin and  flesh;
 But  my four walls, for my soul  attuned 
 ever since I came into this blessed soil!
 for  it bears me still ,still and  silent.  
 What  if the sun peeps out!






Youth and Aging process


 Youth and Aging process

When Lilacs bloom and garden
Is full with  sweet  fragrance,
Youth and sprightliness go
hand in hand to march ahead.

Morgan  and   Liza   walk  up
With full throbbing hopes
to   build  a  future  in  well spun
hut,  a  bliss  and bonanza now.

Aging in the form of   couple
Stand afar, sit a while and
Stand, cursing their shrunken
Skin and layered flesh.

Many a farming, many a
Cattle, milking cows their forte;
Their yesteryears  bereft of loss
And bemuse had a smooth sail.


The escalators yonder bid a   note
As if youth and  Age are two sides
Of the same coin, bear and live
Else  be in  ruthless   strain.


somebody's struggle somebody's take

some body's struggle  somebody's take.


In  the  spiraling  heat  of
Summer’s  scorch  and pride
there is  one  construction site
Of  flourish  and  prosper,
sturdy  Quay  and  concrete slabs,
Obstacles, yet needed  for
Effecting a  furthering finish.
The workers in uniforms,
Up and  down  the cranes;
The   sturdy   winches
Forsaking  them, loyal to
Their faith move to and fro.
booking  are open, at whose
cost  do they realize?
 nearby somebody fanning
himself with  bookleaf,viewing
 above, moods   a  metaphor
of verse and figures; ads  on banner
shine  like palm branch .