Rich or poor,saint and sinner

 

Rich or Poor, or Saint and Sinner

Rich and affluent commute by  expensive car

the poor  by walk for miles   far and far,

the poor near signals  stand for alms,

rich throws a coin unwilling with looks  cold

poor accepts swalloing his fate  and times;

rich has a  kitchen modern well equipped

poor bakes his stale food  his  charcoals'  custom

micro oven rich man's  must ,on and on 

the poor washes his limited  vessels  in  angst,

 sticky  smell and decayed parts swell all around;

child of the poor sleeps in  cradle improvised sari,

 rich man's  offspring  sleeps comfort of lullaby,

rich enjoys t shirts  from mall  and show rooms

while  the poor, his child in ragged craves   for patches  good.

more often than not, poor bare foot and body exposed;

But now, the times are changing, for  times  anew;

 no difference between the rich and poor,

for aids,  loans rescue all where freedom enjoins

  pretension and caution rule the have not

rich  has a tag of show and  showy not.

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writing is my blood

 

09/12/25

It is true, i write, 

writing is in my blood, 

came along with my birth;

I cannot resist this wandering  Muse,

this pen , now my keyboard, this flow

even in sleep; the currents of brain

night and day, like  a stone in still waters

circle and  move for thoughts and records

unprecedented in time's bed;

whether rthyming or couplets or freeverse

all spontaneous overflow - a pain or sorrow,

a mood or  cavalcade, feast  or function- all their 

turns in  times' notes; it is not a  weakness,

it is a celestial joy by Heaven's mercy and Boon.

i go on, till my last breath, be it winter or summer,

 I will flow.

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Winter walk

 WINTER WALK

16/12/25

Much agains my elders'  good counsel,

in the cold winter i ventured for a walk,

that was the age and spirit of adventure.

you can imagine the winter snow, icy slopes,

barren trees  wet as if shedding tears for their 

foliage shed away from them,times' cruelty:

Throughout the path, cut prints  of unseen birds,

some rose petals mystic vision  to my eyes then.

There i sensed him, partly human and partly godlike

may be  a tree  another version of  distortion;

after some notes by   " frosted brooks".

Cold winter has many forms, transforming all

both  human and non human , frost and fog 

hand in hand ,stubborn in their  stay.

i left home alone, now coming back alone

only with dreams  unfulfilled , a voyage 

of wonder and  strange discovery.

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Down on the canal on Christmas day

 23/12/25

down on the canal on Christmas Day

Near the end of December,

cold slowly thawing all ,in its own way,

the dawn of Christmas  approaching fast,

carols and cakes galore all around-

me in  a mood of renunciation ,

chanting mantra of see the good in life

for better future;  i could see  a man in attire full

silken  adding a warmth of smile, 

methinks it is a wrong approach- 

light in all aspects-grief singing its own choir 

i could perceive  he is beyond all norms-

go fast to the lake, guided by my instincts-

see my ancestors in the  cawing crows

pay my respects, back home for my writes,

the  day ends.

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The man in the wind Jan 26

 december 30

 The man in the wind 

 is not the guard in uniform white,

  round  on his parole , 

 the man in the wind is not the police 

 his duty in turns , night watchman,

nor the man locking the mega shop,

the man in the wind   with  a watchful eye

on the visitors in Mall ;

Far off, ruffled by the windpower

driving by car, he questions himself

and reads his own mind,

meandering where, leading where. 

Tuned all the shutters of wind 

blowing fast endless rhythm of own,

wind blowing in all corners,

 collecting all garbage piles ,

the stink on air dipped by showers mild

when end comes no one knows.

The man in car returns ,after slow drive

  drowning  his own fear until reaches home

only prayers his sage by his side.

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 Renegade January 26 

As the new year begins, awareness dawns,

introspection constant questioning deep myself,

youth in its gay spirits,wandering aimless,

all responsibilities lying low, where is my land,

my kith and kin, my mother and father,

their guidance no more wanted, 

all by myself into my own philosophy,

time  running beyond time, all that is over.

Look at the woman with bread crumbs,

child in her sari's cradle improvised for alms,

wage earner's battle with his family and boss;

i am blessed, i forgot till now; no  mean crave,

no more looks, no more secret annoying, 

no wanting, only remedy is my memory ,

inward and silent teaching a  remedy for all the past;

let the past  a sieve memory , let the winter its cold-

all be gone for better days anew.

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What are dreams....

 dreams  January 13

What are dreams

In my lonely cottage,

winter's chill still by your side,

inward thought arises,often 

going on undisturbed,

until i wake up for a cup of hot tea;

if there were dreams to sell,

what would i do?

dreams come often with a shade

of panic or forewarning,

or like a siren, dead of night;

at times, dreams are roses

or jasmines, sacred with fragrance

a hope and will to permeate;

i would ask for life

without pain or penury,

life of love, charity, genorosity,

above all , endurance life's 

gifted call stay permanent ;

Let my dream come true

only for good , for the sake of humanity;

--------------------------

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Iam a troubled heart January 2026

 january 

Hamlets mother ....

I am a  troubled heart...

I am a troubled heart,

my whole life has been 

marooned  ship , nothing 

but agiations, brewing from  afar;

at such times, i am taught to be strong

surrender  to the will of Almighty,

all knowing and all seeing.

Patience is the rod helped me

steering through in troubled waters;

Art  and Life  and  Books and literature-

all see the troubled hearts, where do 

they come from and what is the threrapy?

Intropection and rumination - twin routes 

guide me through - still the way is not clear;

Days roll on fast, time testing every move,

but answer lies in Hope and Faith,

i am sure, these two will not belie -

monsters will not trouble us any longer 

with their troubled hearts.

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Piece of advice Jan 27 th

 

 Piece of advice

come, my dear friend,spend some time

for a piece of good counsel from your sincere

life long  a well wisher and saviour in good earnest,

come sit for a while, here for none can overhear ;

Life is not that easy, for its precious moments

to share for better purposes and doings,

life bestowed by Him for a rare cawing,

from heaven ,waste not  a moment;

nor spend in the company of vile 

who plunder your talents and treasure

for a remote mean thrill which is not

for lasting ; you sit calm and think a while;

run not after her charms, not her vanishing beauty,

rivers and running brooks, birds in the azure sky,

the full moon and brightest star and radiant sun,

carrry their own weight of lessons and beauty

enshrined in lines of poets and seers,

go , seek them for a better morrow,

shun the devil in you, possessing you,

for Life's a rare gift by Him the Creator;

Neglect not this friend's timely counsel,

for  you have a long way to go!