Guardian ( as you set out )

Guardian  ( as you set out )

Life is  undoubtedly a   two way  path

Intertwining in your coil of success and

Failures, soars and serendipity; an edge.

Arrival and departure lounges, ever busy

tracking and passengers  dragging baggage;

their indomitable destiny, chasing   karma

vigilant devouring their plans and ambitions.

Short notice, your landlord vacates your

Apartment, your  in-laws mushrooming

On the plundered  coins  gathered in the

Garb of  have-nots and   it is your  duty,

Some argued boldly and assertively.

Your intuition tells, “get ready” . your

Grandchildren already bidding adieu.

Your bed slowly  slipping you  to a

Better place of eternity, comfort and care.

Bills and  payments and loans and redemptions

Shares  to the next generations.

Yes! You set out to a different world!

The ruins an Golden Age

Come to the verdant country side,

A walk by the salving brooks and           

Majestic hills, where medicinal plants grow

Copious and  charming, with mystic songs

always transporting you to a world beyond

your ken and  wit; where are those colonies now?

They are dying and defunct like the dried fallen

Leaves. The quay stones speak volumes of  their

Pride  and history ; ruins are our once jewels ;

How often, urchins played under the tamarind tree,

Young pair of lovers indulged in romantic  songs,

While some others  rocked the cradles with sleeping

Babies, awaiting hot lunch in packs plantain leaves.              

I go back and think of Golden  Ages, when our

Grandparents  voicing from high hills and mountains

Echoing their cultural grit ever watching us:

I want to relive those  Golden  Age.

A fantastic journey

A fantastic journey

You  came to us , after cozy

Imprisonment in mother’s

Smoothly walled chambers,

 Full-blown after ten months

Or premature  as in some cases;

Could you float  and see albumen and blood?

me also, poised  in the same question,

the tough passage was for mother

an ordeal and  indescribable rebirth for both ;

not a  ghost from tomorrow, but make

and remake of  recent and  yesteryears’

glue and  picture kicking out of the  chamber.

Oblivious of the hazards of outside world.

You are galloping from timeless and silence

To cacophony and  disporder,where life is

A null and chaos and cutthroat competition.

A world where life is only a   shadow and unreal.

Wondering at the creation and wonder is not the word.

Before and after--- the burial ground

Before and after---  the burial ground

Life’s  pristine journey

begins swift as bee, buzzing  round,

for the sane and genuine grieving

 only in burial ground;

 Moments  of glamour and gloom,

like the waning and waxing

 Of anything materialistic- it is

  the  stagnant  water -previous show;

 what is the kernel in this body?

  What is the soul hiding, where,

 In the mega project of flesh and sin

 Not knowing the Unreachable.  

   A little ganga water purifying,

   Only our exterior, our thaw less

  still ruminating  the  events  leading

   to our bathos and perfunctory roll.

    Aftermath of revel and rebel

    mad  rush for attorney and property,

     signing and  countersigning

   shadowing all our efficacious deals;

Love! Never lose hope

  Love! never lose hope

Ever since  His creation, Love is the

Dome on which many sat and  dreamt

to breed and glow,despite  opposition;

respite and  discard and  for many

it grows to munificent heights.

There are many ways to branch off,

Suspicion and  anger and  bliss

hamper   to  distract and  quell

our mood  of lure and care; yet

love blossoms when right choice

delights and gives no room for

doubt or uncanny apprehension.

His wings are pure  as Dove’s

Fancy in flights high and sustained

Joy reveling in lasting  faith.  Let us

Please him, catch him, hold him

Until he flies saturated with wings

To untold bliss of heaven