In the forest.

There is Life in the forest,
Life in the flora and fauna,
Life breathes in the tall
pure and pine .

there is life in the forest,
Woodbine and woodcock
Intertwine to vie with peacock,
Parrots repeat chanting hymns.

There is life in the forest,
When sweet water
While scythe intervenes,
rude stem, flows in profuse.

There is life in timbre
and melody flows
as if oaken flutes,
melancholy flows in

wooded, green forest,
there is life for the anthills,
there is life when coupling
snakes , still in seclusion,

there is life in the bubbling river,
life in the colourful fishes flowing by.
life in the primeval forest,
life in the wooded forest.

FROZEN

Yonder, she is milking the cow, the dumb,
to feed the selfish human,
the Blue is pouring dogs and cats,
The maize and the grain bask in
the warm sunlight, high and serenade,
the fields are profuse wet,
oh! Only man’s heart is frozen,
Thaw less beyond redemption,

My memory does not erase,
to think of those bitter
experiences of the past,
to reconcile those harsh,
frozen , shriek, stiff, dark,
it needs ages, insufficient time,
even, time is melted, thawed
into nothingness. Frozen frozen.

Friday night

Friday night
Friday night is illumine d bright,
My home with candelabrums great,
At the sanctum sanctorum,
My home’s altar, where my
Ruling deity adorned by flowers,
Incense and camphor permeates,

Friday night, outside sky is bright,
It is azure, starry night,
There emanates, A song,
notes of my questioning
heart, marvels at the mystery
of the universe,

it is after this holy, Friday night,
I crave for the two days of rest,
Saturday and Sunday,
tireless my mind tired my body,
Friday night is good,
Friday night is bright and great.

Destiny

Destiny
I t starts from the embryo,
enters into all shapes
like a wary conjurer,
taps the doors of success,
tickles the mound of
Pretentitious disappointment,

Destiny is a ruthless politician
Casting words at the podium,
It Slips through the back door,
At times sits in the front gate,
Doesn’t care if it is a bedroom
Or bath shower, or a moving bus,

It is the destiny that engulfed
Many in tsunami globally,
It is the ire of destiny that
Shook the cradles of
ancient Civilisation,
did and undid many wars,

it is the destiny shaping us all,
it is the destiny shaking us all.

The Road Ahead

The road ahead is the road taken
The road ahead is a thoroughfare,
Preferred after a well thought of
Prolonged deliberation, no short cuts,
No ambivalent paths, nothing to bypass,
Only to bypass the impasse,
The road of the past , uncertain,
Despair creeping into me,
I had to traverse the zig zag path,
full of meanderings , pell mell,
the road of the wilderness laid,
thimbles and thistles, pricking me,
the road past leads to the present,
to the distinct future, future of clarity.

BEING ALONE

Like a brooding Dove,
Sitting alone on this mound,
I stare at those unreachable
Twinkling , friendly stars,
Yet am feeling lonely,

I am part of this medley,
am part of this motley,
yet , I am alone,
to feel and comprehend
The Alone,

The bird on the bending
Branch, caws, calls for its clan,
I am part of the crowd,
Yet I am alone,
Sing alone the lonely song.

Amidst this pretentious mob,
Each one of us, left within us,
A movement of being alone,
Sing alone the lonely song,
I am being alone.

A snowy day

No kisses, no homework, no sums,
No toys, no tantrum from mom’s
Duty conscious screams,
for there is no school today.

it is a dark , dismal snowy day,
I see nothing but white sheets of snow,
Mom! You bake cakes indoors,
let me play with ice flakes .

it is a dark dismal, snowy day,
let me go roller-- -skating,
on this day of heavy snowing,
with my teddy bear hugging.

It is a dark dismal snowy day,
But for me it is a lively day.

My bag is full of nonsense

My vanity bag is full of nonsense,
Of silly crab of scribbled pieces
Stemming from my imagination,
Some wiseacres call it hallucination,
I call them poetry, some name them
Jittery, there is no jewellery or lottery,
A plastic comb to set right my
Dishevelled hair, a sticker for my forehead,
Do in Rome as the Romans do
They say, I dare not gainsay,
My quibble craves for some sense,
Some garlic and ginger to pep up
My mood of intense ,
My bag full of nonsense.

homework

Homework
I do my homework in class,
When others go, have a running race,
I avoid the nightmare at home,
for my dad, my brother, my beloved mom,
it is a sinister syndrome,
Sitting in turns with my books,
of various subjects and tricky sums,
if homework is not done,
by canes I will be undone,
homework is a matter of pressure,
if done in a hurried measure,
no fun, no television, no movie,
bending my face to the surface,
minimal homework, more pleasure,
more homework ,less leisure,
I hate homework in undue stress,
I love play more and more
to relieve my stress

Anothr birth of new quantum

Her zeal of salamander is quenched
The orgy of her past deeds,
Slow , shrinks her face:
Janus turns the mirror of
hoary past, rewinding her past,
she sinks into the abysmal sea of life,
surging waves of the ocean guzzle her,
even amidst choking she sings Dithyramb,
sinks far below the fathomless deep,
Retribution on the heap,
She invokes DIONYSUS for
A new life, fresh beginning, clean start.

what groomed me

What groomed me?
It is not the first feed of breast milk
that you did nipple with tender care into
my mouth, when the umbilical cord was cut
you put me in my baby seat,

it is not the hurried washing of the
utensils with minimal water, in scarce days,
after which you hurried me into my school
to seek admission right from my pre KG,

It is not adjustment to get progress
Card signed by you to protect me from
the occasional wrath of dad, not even
the homework you did to save me

me , from being caned by mechanical teachers,
it is not the unredeemed jewellery
you pledged to pay my colleges fees
it is not the concern, you ran after me with

the hall ticket for the exam, it is not the
wait during my return from my excursion
to local zoo, it is not the insults you bore
from counter to counter,

it is the fulcrum of support,
Congenital affection through fallopian tube,
the concern for my well being,
the Prayer, selfless sacrifice, groomed me .

When crafty lonliness bugs you.

When this crafty loneliness bugs you,
You tend to hug the warmth of humanity,
Phlegmatic matter of routine dilutes
Your already thinned nerves,
The warp and weft of your soul’s
craving seeks the inner meaning
of the cosmos, existence,
you read every movement of the crowd,
yet, Supine, helpless, on the podium,
bow of violin goes up and down,
sings serenity in cacophony.

The orange peelings

It is in the sombre winter’s dark morning,
darkened by the croaking of frogs,
day begins with the ordeal fo r me ,
I wash my bowl of oranges,
those plump peelings give a cry of wail,
yesterday we covered those plump pith,
You can’t gain entry without our permission,
Today we are demoted in the bin,
Scary flies are swamping around us ,
free permission, what an irony!

Paper plane

Paper plane.
From earth’s crevice, it takes off
to unimaginable rapturous dizzy heights,
propelled by intuitive imagination,
piercing through puffy clouds,
dragging along the zigzag manner ,
I too fly along with it, explore unknown zones
Little knowing the ground realities,
I was running along somewhere
in the middle path, lost into space perhaps,
it got crushed for it is only a paper plane,
me too, the whereabouts not known,
it is only a paper plane.

I let it go
I let go the passion of cankerous evil of jealousy
for once it starts corroding me, I find the
uprooting devastation , slowly consuming me
without a checkpoint,
I let go the fish caught in my cupped palm
for its survvival , for GOD has created life
for it in the water,
I let go my head ache , for
my work suffers with the
bug of intruding pain,
But I let not go patience
for once it goes, life drains.

A thing of Beauty.

A thing of Beauty , which we think is lost,
is never missing for ever,
if not yesterday, today gains new release
of renewed life with colour.
with redoubled grandeur.

The cold, cloudy wintry morn,
exposed to the sky’s chuckling scorn,
the weird like magnolia tree, in dark stems,
as I sit and watch the barren twigs,
impoverished , brown, not a single leaf,

To day, to my surprise, just sprouting buds ,
as if hungered and thirsty , intertwine,
yet could my eyes glance blossomed
rosy magnolias, in thick clusters,
beatitude of Bliss and beauty in flowing colours.

Motherhood

Motherhood

Divine Mother’s
evanescent smile
bespeaks of many things,
motherhood, universal
motherhood, motherhood,
Mother is mother,
whether abominably poor,
Or altruistically affluent,
she is the common
denominator, unique,
for she undoubtedly
fostered you with the
first drop of that
precious mother’s milk
and selfless ,unpolluted care,
she protected you
within the cosy walls,
her womb, though
you kicked her time
and again,mother,cares
for ever, earth like
patient, penetrating,
mother is mother,
let us not smother
our conscience
mother is mother.

I am overwhelmed to be

I am overwhelmed to be....
Oh! God , I am overwhelmed to be,
Today, in the vast, united states of
America, to be in the temple of
Sana tana dharma, wearing the
Diadem of gratitude, to the Maker,
For He who makes the Nation ,
Nature, also nurtures the Myth
Of Your survival, chance of your
Being here, le t again thanksgiving,
form the core of the beginning
and end of Each day,
for all your benign Grace,
for each hour, each breadth take up
an embalmed vow to sing
gratitude to your Maker,
for He who makes and mars,
let the privilege reach the
forbidden and denied,
let me not have the
Contracted mind to reap
it for myself, again and again
it is a wonder and mystery,
God’s boon has myriad
inexplicable connotations,
you may retire from your profession,
but no retirement for gratitude and Meditation.

Chattering monkey

Chattering monkey
Chattering monkey in the morn
Stirs me with a wakeup call,
go to your laptop with a tap,
set a tune on this keyboard,
with a song on a springboard,
cheating, cheating, cheating,
beating, beating, brow beating,
chattering monkey in the morn,
springs from within with a sound of horn,
wake up, wake up, wake up,
chattering monkey recedes ,
to have a new make up.

His passion for Undoing

Stretching in His orb,
extending , all pervading , His
impartial looks and rod,
it is His unique passion for
the chiselled creation, to
watch and hook and steady
those who run helter sklter
and welter in the quagmire of
lust and carnivorous greed,

It is His passion undoing
and doing man’s impassioned
perilous deeds , purblind thinking,
in His passion, there is explosion,
Encapsulation. endless enumeration.