My dearest love, it is almost dawn
Will you be back? Its been so long
Are you really, really mad at me
For being with your friend in my pink nightie
In early hours of that fateful day
When you had walked in and watched him sway?
There is something that I have to say. Yes!
He had stayed back but for only a day
Trust me, he knows, I wear your ring
Would we ever do any stupid thing?
He helps me with jobs that are heavy for me
During your long, long absence from home at sea
That fateful moment before you arrived
Having lost my keys, I was stranded at night
I called for help from my white mobile
He brought the tools to clear my plight
He followed me in for my security
And waited a while for a warm coffee
We chatted for long and didn’t realize
When clock chimed three, it was late, late night
I lent him your shorts and then changed mine
He slept on the couch in the hall. So quiet!
You trust him, don’t you? He is your buddy
Could we do anything that would be muddy?
My fingers are sore from punching hard
Did you read my SMS’s and my desperate calls?
I know you can’t be angry, not for long
So shed you precious pride and come along
Come back, my darling, I am missing you
Will bake a cake, and freeze ice-creams too
Monday, June 30, 2008
Friday, June 20, 2008
Splassssh!
Pipes are choked with air and dust
Water trickles down the spout
Dropping its lazy drops
I slap the tap, block the spout,
Thrust my fore finger into its mouth
Then suddenly,
The water emerges angrily through the spout
Splashing on my face and blouse
I am late again.
Water trickles down the spout
Dropping its lazy drops
I slap the tap, block the spout,
Thrust my fore finger into its mouth
Then suddenly,
The water emerges angrily through the spout
Splashing on my face and blouse
I am late again.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Poetry
Touching my lazy soul
Stimulating a broken thought
Poetry flows down my veins
Reviving me to another muse
I am left fumbling,
Collecting the scattered words
To fix them into
A proper message for you
So much easier it was
To pluck the words
From poetic inspiration
And weave them into
A fine tapestry of tunes
You would read between lines
and framed them up
with rhythm and sounds
in your favorite room
Stimulating a broken thought
Poetry flows down my veins
Reviving me to another muse
I am left fumbling,
Collecting the scattered words
To fix them into
A proper message for you
So much easier it was
To pluck the words
From poetic inspiration
And weave them into
A fine tapestry of tunes
You would read between lines
and framed them up
with rhythm and sounds
in your favorite room
Monday, June 16, 2008
My dog – Rex
“Can you give a bath to Rex? I have to attend a kitty party and I am running late.” said my wife
“Why should I give bath to Rex, he is your dog, so you do it” I said
“Now don’t you start all over again. There is nothing that is solely ‘yours’ or ‘mine’. Everything is ‘ours’. We share everything. Remember? So, Rex is your dog too.” Said my wife
“Yes, we do share everything but, that is limited to housework and money only. I cannot take your dog’s responsibilities too. I didn’t want him here in the first place but you have brought him here stubbornly into my house.” I said
“Shuush! Talk softly. You will hurt his feelings and if he feels unwanted here, he will go into depression.” Said my wife
“Don’t you shuush me. It is me who is going through depression. He watches 'Animal Planet' show on my TV, he sleeps on my side of the bed and most nights I am sleeping on the sofa.” I said
“Oh Honey! Sofa is so comfortable. You shouldn’t be complaining.” Said my wife
“Complaining? Am I? I am warning you. I don’t like to see you wasting so much money on dogs’ birthday parties or taking him for grooming in those expensive beauty parlors.” I said
“Tsk! Tsk! Tsk! Money spend on Rex is not wasted, my dear. What is the use of working so hard and earning if we cannot spend it wisely? I think, you are plain jealous of Rex. You don’t understand, he has many friends out there. He needs to look good when I take him for walks by the sea shore. It boosts his ego.” Said my wife
*Ding Dong*
“Can you answer the door-bell Honey? Who is it?” said my wife
“It is a food parcel. Did you order butter chicken from Taj Intercontinental?” I said
“Oh yes. Has it arrived? It is for Rex.” said my wife.
“Rex, Rex. Come here Baby; Look what Mama gets for you?
“You like butter chicken, don’t you?”
“Come baby come. Eat it. It is good.”
*Growl*
“See what you have done. You see that? Rex is very upset and now he won’t eat. Are you happy now?” Said my wife
“Ummnph! I wish he would learn to read the script. He would know then, what he was missing.” I said
*Growl…Sure, I can read the script maan.. it says t-a-j-i-n-t-e-r-c-o-n-t-i-n-e-n-t-a-l. I can smell it too and I know that it is a great place to eat and butter chicken is its specialty. But still, I will not eat, unless you agree to give me a bath…..woof!*
“Why should I give bath to Rex, he is your dog, so you do it” I said
“Now don’t you start all over again. There is nothing that is solely ‘yours’ or ‘mine’. Everything is ‘ours’. We share everything. Remember? So, Rex is your dog too.” Said my wife
“Yes, we do share everything but, that is limited to housework and money only. I cannot take your dog’s responsibilities too. I didn’t want him here in the first place but you have brought him here stubbornly into my house.” I said
“Shuush! Talk softly. You will hurt his feelings and if he feels unwanted here, he will go into depression.” Said my wife
“Don’t you shuush me. It is me who is going through depression. He watches 'Animal Planet' show on my TV, he sleeps on my side of the bed and most nights I am sleeping on the sofa.” I said
“Oh Honey! Sofa is so comfortable. You shouldn’t be complaining.” Said my wife
“Complaining? Am I? I am warning you. I don’t like to see you wasting so much money on dogs’ birthday parties or taking him for grooming in those expensive beauty parlors.” I said
“Tsk! Tsk! Tsk! Money spend on Rex is not wasted, my dear. What is the use of working so hard and earning if we cannot spend it wisely? I think, you are plain jealous of Rex. You don’t understand, he has many friends out there. He needs to look good when I take him for walks by the sea shore. It boosts his ego.” Said my wife
*Ding Dong*
“Can you answer the door-bell Honey? Who is it?” said my wife
“It is a food parcel. Did you order butter chicken from Taj Intercontinental?” I said
“Oh yes. Has it arrived? It is for Rex.” said my wife.
“Rex, Rex. Come here Baby; Look what Mama gets for you?
“You like butter chicken, don’t you?”
“Come baby come. Eat it. It is good.”
*Growl*
“See what you have done. You see that? Rex is very upset and now he won’t eat. Are you happy now?” Said my wife
“Ummnph! I wish he would learn to read the script. He would know then, what he was missing.” I said
*Growl…Sure, I can read the script maan.. it says t-a-j-i-n-t-e-r-c-o-n-t-i-n-e-n-t-a-l. I can smell it too and I know that it is a great place to eat and butter chicken is its specialty. But still, I will not eat, unless you agree to give me a bath…..woof!*
Monday, June 09, 2008
One more Birthday.... Again....
Young at heart, it matters not
what age I be on my next big day
Year after year
I have smiled along,
and seen the world pass me by
Till 10 I would count and was thrilled each year
eager I was to reach my teens
I faked about my age to gate crash a scene
I lied to stay young, at thirty that was mean
but at 40 I stopped, counting my age
the mirror on the wall refused to lie
now i just count the wrinkles on my face
watch myself grow with renewed grace
young at heart it matters not
what age I be on my next big day
I shall blow just one candle
and watch myself age
I dread to turn my life's next page.
what age I be on my next big day
Year after year
I have smiled along,
and seen the world pass me by
Till 10 I would count and was thrilled each year
eager I was to reach my teens
I faked about my age to gate crash a scene
I lied to stay young, at thirty that was mean
but at 40 I stopped, counting my age
the mirror on the wall refused to lie
now i just count the wrinkles on my face
watch myself grow with renewed grace
young at heart it matters not
what age I be on my next big day
I shall blow just one candle
and watch myself age
I dread to turn my life's next page.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Shanti Kunj
My family home, not mere house of stones
Warmth and love fills its bones
fragrant smiles greets me at doors
Seeping through my skinny pores
Fragrance that was brewed from days
When I was young and of tender age
I would pack my valise every holidays
With mom and family I would tag always
I’d spend few days with cousins dear
Who greeted always with pleasant cheers
We would tease and laugh and roll with joy
All day, all night, we would enjoy
Laughter’s, fun frolic, sway-
Foodstuff cooked and brewed all day
Vibes and chats of every rank
Found a place in memory bank
Presently, it’s still a loving den
Our family laughter echoes there
Big sister now, reigns the throne
She greets us there with love adorned
Food and jokes are still alive
Dotted now, with spiritual rhymes
We reach there stealing cozy times
Exchanging golden, funny lines
Warmth and love fills its bones
fragrant smiles greets me at doors
Seeping through my skinny pores
Fragrance that was brewed from days
When I was young and of tender age
I would pack my valise every holidays
With mom and family I would tag always
I’d spend few days with cousins dear
Who greeted always with pleasant cheers
We would tease and laugh and roll with joy
All day, all night, we would enjoy
Laughter’s, fun frolic, sway-
Foodstuff cooked and brewed all day
Vibes and chats of every rank
Found a place in memory bank
Presently, it’s still a loving den
Our family laughter echoes there
Big sister now, reigns the throne
She greets us there with love adorned
Food and jokes are still alive
Dotted now, with spiritual rhymes
We reach there stealing cozy times
Exchanging golden, funny lines
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Nano car muse
Morning is the time, when I sit on my special chair in the corner of the room, by the window. It is the time of the day, when I read a newspaper or watch the news on TV. This is my favorite space which has good vibes and it helps me recall the feeling of peace. It is a spot where the energy works for me and I can feel the tension release, until, I hear my wife say “Good Morning!”
Things are never the same, thereafter.
It is the silly matters that distract me from her. She will enter the bathroom and scream when she finds that the napkins in the bathroom have not been placed back on the hook, or how I had squeezed the toothpaste that was not as per her instructions, or why the soap dish is not kept in a particular position. Silly me, I keep forgetting her instruction all the time.
But, even on the days when I am very careful, there will be some issues that I can never handle.
Like, today morning, my wife says that she wants to buy 'Tata Nano' for our maid.
“Why does a maid need a car?” I protest
“Because she is always late to work.” And then she tells me how difficult it is for her, to do all the work, when there are bus strikes.
The conversation then shifts to Nano’s price, which is very attractive and affordable. As she goes about, doing all the odd jobs in the house and going to and fro, from kitchen to bedroom, from preparing breakfast to putting things away and dusting all the rooms, she talks about people who own entry-level cars, who are now thinking of going in for either one Nano or maybe two, which will cost the same as their existing car. So, there would be one car for the head of the family and another for the family.
Nano car has been one of the hottest topics in every home. Few days ago, my friend was mentioning about the great discussion he was having in his family, with his neighbors, with lift man and even, sometimes with his dog! Everyone is excited about this new car.
I leave my special chair, my meditative space by the window and start to dress up for the office. I shave, bathe, dress and keep nodding my head as she tells me about the taxi driver, who wants to replace his car with Nano, because he is confident that he can easily cover the lakh that he will need to invest in. She talks about a new range of auto repair shops and accessories that might spawn at every street corner, she mentions the local milkman who has started thinking of holders on the side of his car for his milk cans, about the curbside Chinese joint, who is thinking of turning mobile via the Nano.
Where does she find so much energy to talk so much, early in the morning? The day had not begun. I wished somebody would invent a remote control with a volume control to turn off the volume of the conversation that we don’t wish to hear. New technology is discovering all kinds of things to make our life comfortable. I was beginning to feel that somebody out there must surely be working on this too. What fun would that be? I would use the remote to hear the conversation of my neighbor’s wife. Selective hearing, isn’t that what it is called? Channel one…flat number one, channel two, flat number two, channel three……..
“Hello, are you listening?” she says as she emerges from the kitchen and smiles as me.
“I particularly liked the steel Grey Nano. It has a style of its own. It’s affordable and looks quite comfortable. It’s good for a small family. I am keen to know when bookings will kick off,” she says as she sets the breakfast plates on the table.
“It’s an affordable car, no doubt. But I would rather wait a year before buying it, just to see what the experience is like,” I say, as I chomp on a sandwich.
“What do you mean? Do you want me to look like a fool in front of my kitty party friends?” She says, wide-eyed, glaring at me.
The sound of the door bell breaks the spell as her favorite maid reports to work.
Things are never the same, thereafter.
It is the silly matters that distract me from her. She will enter the bathroom and scream when she finds that the napkins in the bathroom have not been placed back on the hook, or how I had squeezed the toothpaste that was not as per her instructions, or why the soap dish is not kept in a particular position. Silly me, I keep forgetting her instruction all the time.
But, even on the days when I am very careful, there will be some issues that I can never handle.
Like, today morning, my wife says that she wants to buy 'Tata Nano' for our maid.
“Why does a maid need a car?” I protest
“Because she is always late to work.” And then she tells me how difficult it is for her, to do all the work, when there are bus strikes.
The conversation then shifts to Nano’s price, which is very attractive and affordable. As she goes about, doing all the odd jobs in the house and going to and fro, from kitchen to bedroom, from preparing breakfast to putting things away and dusting all the rooms, she talks about people who own entry-level cars, who are now thinking of going in for either one Nano or maybe two, which will cost the same as their existing car. So, there would be one car for the head of the family and another for the family.
Nano car has been one of the hottest topics in every home. Few days ago, my friend was mentioning about the great discussion he was having in his family, with his neighbors, with lift man and even, sometimes with his dog! Everyone is excited about this new car.
I leave my special chair, my meditative space by the window and start to dress up for the office. I shave, bathe, dress and keep nodding my head as she tells me about the taxi driver, who wants to replace his car with Nano, because he is confident that he can easily cover the lakh that he will need to invest in. She talks about a new range of auto repair shops and accessories that might spawn at every street corner, she mentions the local milkman who has started thinking of holders on the side of his car for his milk cans, about the curbside Chinese joint, who is thinking of turning mobile via the Nano.
Where does she find so much energy to talk so much, early in the morning? The day had not begun. I wished somebody would invent a remote control with a volume control to turn off the volume of the conversation that we don’t wish to hear. New technology is discovering all kinds of things to make our life comfortable. I was beginning to feel that somebody out there must surely be working on this too. What fun would that be? I would use the remote to hear the conversation of my neighbor’s wife. Selective hearing, isn’t that what it is called? Channel one…flat number one, channel two, flat number two, channel three……..
“Hello, are you listening?” she says as she emerges from the kitchen and smiles as me.
“I particularly liked the steel Grey Nano. It has a style of its own. It’s affordable and looks quite comfortable. It’s good for a small family. I am keen to know when bookings will kick off,” she says as she sets the breakfast plates on the table.
“It’s an affordable car, no doubt. But I would rather wait a year before buying it, just to see what the experience is like,” I say, as I chomp on a sandwich.
“What do you mean? Do you want me to look like a fool in front of my kitty party friends?” She says, wide-eyed, glaring at me.
The sound of the door bell breaks the spell as her favorite maid reports to work.
Monday, February 18, 2008
I am still a little girl
Don’t patronize me
Don’t buy my wares
I don’t wish to work
On this long, long road.
I need to learn
To play with words
And earn bright future
In this bleak, damp world
If you buy my wares
I might learn that
There is no greed to study
To earn a bread
Ignorant I will be
With no phrases to delight
How can you empower me,
If I can’t spell it right?
Don’t encourage me to work
Help me see the light,
I am just a little girl
Please save me from this plight.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Give me a role to play.
All the world is a stage
We are but the actors doing our part
Oops! I have got all mixed up
But, where are my reel lines?
I have forgotten my branded script
I am uttering all the used words
The character that I was to play
Didn’t demand this awful day
It is all so confusing
These dialogues cannot be mine
Help I don’t wish to do this
I really cannot mime.
Context defines the roles I play
It clearly defines my relationship
Best sailing will be those
Which I can maneuver it to precision
This role cannot be mine
Help! I don’t wish to mime
I wish to be aware of a situation
Acting the role as context demands
I cannot be the same person everywhere
Cannot be the same in every location
I want to choose my roles wisely
I want to wear the robes of perfection
I need a garb of a great actor
In this soap opera of love and affection
All the world is stage
Help me seek my part that is wise
I don’t wish to be mixed up
I need to reach a goal of salvation.
This gibberish, muttering rhymes
Help! I don’t really wish to do this.
We are but the actors doing our part
Oops! I have got all mixed up
But, where are my reel lines?
I have forgotten my branded script
I am uttering all the used words
The character that I was to play
Didn’t demand this awful day
It is all so confusing
These dialogues cannot be mine
Help I don’t wish to do this
I really cannot mime.
Context defines the roles I play
It clearly defines my relationship
Best sailing will be those
Which I can maneuver it to precision
This role cannot be mine
Help! I don’t wish to mime
I wish to be aware of a situation
Acting the role as context demands
I cannot be the same person everywhere
Cannot be the same in every location
I want to choose my roles wisely
I want to wear the robes of perfection
I need a garb of a great actor
In this soap opera of love and affection
All the world is stage
Help me seek my part that is wise
I don’t wish to be mixed up
I need to reach a goal of salvation.
This gibberish, muttering rhymes
Help! I don’t really wish to do this.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Mom.......Taare Zameen par...lyrics
I have told you not that I am afraid of dark
I can express it not, but I care for you Mom
You know everything, isn’t it Mom?
Leave me not like this in the crowd
That I cannot return home Mom
Send me not so far away
That you cannot recall me Mom
Am I so bad Mom?
Am I so bad?
When dad swings me hard on the swing
I look for you Mom,
Thinking that you will come
And hold me Mom
I tell him this not
But I get too nervous Mom
I show it not on my face
But in my heart I am too afraid Mom
You know everything
isn’t it Mom?
lyrics in Hindi....
Main Kabhi Batlata Nahin
Par Andhere Se Darta Hoon Main Maa
Yun To Main,Dikhlata Nahin
Teri Parwaah Karta Hoon Main Maa
Tujhe Sab Hain Pata, Hain Na Maa
Tujhe Sab Hain Pata,,Meri Maa
Bheed Mein Yun Na Chhoro Mujhe
Ghar Laut Ke Bhi Aa Naa Paoon Maa
Bhej Na Itna Door Mujkko Tu
Yaad Bhi Tujhko Aa Naa Paoon Maa
Kya Itna Bura Hoon Main Maa
Kya Itna Bura Meri Maa
Jab Bhi Kabhi Papa Mujhe
Jo Zor Se Jhoola Jhulate Hain Maa
Meri Nazar Dhoondhe Tujhe
Sochu Yahi Tu Aa Ke Thaamegi Maa
Unse Main Yeh Kehta Nahin
Par Main Seham Jaata Hoon Maa
Chehre Pe Aana Deta Nahin
Dil Hi Dil Mein Ghabraata Hoon Maa
Tujhe Sab Hai Pata Hai Naa Maa
Tujhe Sab Hai Pata Meri Maa
Main Kabhi Batlata Nahin
Par Andhere Se Darta Hoon Main Maa
Yun To Main,Dikhlata Nahin
Teri Parwaah Karta Hoon Main Maa
Tujhe Sab Hain Pata, Hain Na Maa
Tujhe Sab Hain Pata,,Meri Maa
I can express it not, but I care for you Mom
You know everything, isn’t it Mom?
Leave me not like this in the crowd
That I cannot return home Mom
Send me not so far away
That you cannot recall me Mom
Am I so bad Mom?
Am I so bad?
When dad swings me hard on the swing
I look for you Mom,
Thinking that you will come
And hold me Mom
I tell him this not
But I get too nervous Mom
I show it not on my face
But in my heart I am too afraid Mom
You know everything
isn’t it Mom?
lyrics in Hindi....
Main Kabhi Batlata Nahin
Par Andhere Se Darta Hoon Main Maa
Yun To Main,Dikhlata Nahin
Teri Parwaah Karta Hoon Main Maa
Tujhe Sab Hain Pata, Hain Na Maa
Tujhe Sab Hain Pata,,Meri Maa
Bheed Mein Yun Na Chhoro Mujhe
Ghar Laut Ke Bhi Aa Naa Paoon Maa
Bhej Na Itna Door Mujkko Tu
Yaad Bhi Tujhko Aa Naa Paoon Maa
Kya Itna Bura Hoon Main Maa
Kya Itna Bura Meri Maa
Jab Bhi Kabhi Papa Mujhe
Jo Zor Se Jhoola Jhulate Hain Maa
Meri Nazar Dhoondhe Tujhe
Sochu Yahi Tu Aa Ke Thaamegi Maa
Unse Main Yeh Kehta Nahin
Par Main Seham Jaata Hoon Maa
Chehre Pe Aana Deta Nahin
Dil Hi Dil Mein Ghabraata Hoon Maa
Tujhe Sab Hai Pata Hai Naa Maa
Tujhe Sab Hai Pata Meri Maa
Main Kabhi Batlata Nahin
Par Andhere Se Darta Hoon Main Maa
Yun To Main,Dikhlata Nahin
Teri Parwaah Karta Hoon Main Maa
Tujhe Sab Hain Pata, Hain Na Maa
Tujhe Sab Hain Pata,,Meri Maa
Sunday, January 06, 2008
Smile
Love sees nothing beyond your smile,
Closes its eyes and dreams in your chariot
It lingers around your cozy smile
Drinking its warmth of care and faith
Unruly hair, soiled clothes
Not washed for days and many nights
Blocked behind your sweetest smile that
That glows and shimmers of joy, so bright
A ride through dew drops, dazzling sunshine
With aura of love like a crown,
Drives through beauty smile of innocence
Filling the heart sans a frown
Reserve your smile just for me, I am dazed
I need not to look beyond your face.
Delete
Saturday, January 05, 2008
What are friends for?
What to cook? When you have no clue
And your helper is on holiday because of flu
Fridge is full, but you know not what to do
Take-away services, you don’t like it too
Just invite you best friend for some tea
And pretend to clean some green fresh bean
Your friend, I am sure, after her casual chat
May help you with cooking while you relax
You can call more friends, if you please
A party can follow with a smile and ease
You can have more fun with delicious chat
But don’t forget to ask your friends to help
For long after your best friends are gone
Those piled and soiled dishes might make a frown.
And your helper is on holiday because of flu
Fridge is full, but you know not what to do
Take-away services, you don’t like it too
Just invite you best friend for some tea
And pretend to clean some green fresh bean
Your friend, I am sure, after her casual chat
May help you with cooking while you relax
You can call more friends, if you please
A party can follow with a smile and ease
You can have more fun with delicious chat
But don’t forget to ask your friends to help
For long after your best friends are gone
Those piled and soiled dishes might make a frown.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Benazir Bhutto Assassinated
The world is sobbing
Oh! Such a disgrace
They end the life of a
Woman of grace
In exile she lived
For many years
She returned to give back
The freedom to her world
But blood thirsty, cruel
Senseless gents
Knew not how to handle her verse
They slit her throat
And now are cursed.
Will they be able to celebrate this awful bloodshed?
Or will they escape with another cover-up?
Is it right? Should we fight?
I feel miserable as I write.
Oh! Such a disgrace
They end the life of a
Woman of grace
In exile she lived
For many years
She returned to give back
The freedom to her world
But blood thirsty, cruel
Senseless gents
Knew not how to handle her verse
They slit her throat
And now are cursed.
Will they be able to celebrate this awful bloodshed?
Or will they escape with another cover-up?
Is it right? Should we fight?
I feel miserable as I write.
Friday, December 28, 2007
I wish to be free
I would like to compress my dreams
To match my needs
My dreams are too large to fit
On my shelf of reality
Their enormous size overflows my budget
Larger than life, they fill the space,
Clutter my emotions in an unfulfilled stakes
Bury me under their heavy weight
Stamping me down
With wild expectations
Leaving me shattered
With disappointments
I cannot cash
The desires of my dreams
I wish to be free
From expectations,
From disappointments,
From illusions
I wish to compress my dreams
to just to match my needs
I wish to be free.
To match my needs
My dreams are too large to fit
On my shelf of reality
Their enormous size overflows my budget
Larger than life, they fill the space,
Clutter my emotions in an unfulfilled stakes
Bury me under their heavy weight
Stamping me down
With wild expectations
Leaving me shattered
With disappointments
I cannot cash
The desires of my dreams
I wish to be free
From expectations,
From disappointments,
From illusions
I wish to compress my dreams
to just to match my needs
I wish to be free.
Friday, December 07, 2007
Street Urchin
No!
My heart does not move
Not any more!
Not even when I see a street urchin,
His hands, soiled, outstretched
Beneath my neck,
His eyes meeting mine
Imploring for help for one more time
Will he hobble and cross the street to
buy a bread that are sold for a dime?
Or will he stagger across the road,
to his boss, who owns him now
Who had chopped off his feet
Clipped off his wings
and send him here to beg?.
No!
My heart does not move!
Not any more!
How can it move?
It is stoned and lifeless,
peeled off its feel.
My heart does not move
Not any more!
Not even when I see a street urchin,
His hands, soiled, outstretched
Beneath my neck,
His eyes meeting mine
Imploring for help for one more time
Will he hobble and cross the street to
buy a bread that are sold for a dime?
Or will he stagger across the road,
to his boss, who owns him now
Who had chopped off his feet
Clipped off his wings
and send him here to beg?.
No!
My heart does not move!
Not any more!
How can it move?
It is stoned and lifeless,
peeled off its feel.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Dedicated to my cousin, Baby,(Alias Meena)
Sixty today, should I call you by your name‘Baby’?
But believe me you are NO ole baby
Wrapped with a heart of gold
Your words are soft but still quite bold
Untouched by world’s cruel life style
Living always with a big broad smile
Having touched many weak, low minds
You helped them bloom in flowers upright
How do you curse, those abusive verse?
That is still coated with buttery words?
Your laughter is heard across the ocean
It rings with love and true affection
At sixty, hope you will grow more bold
Remember, you are not that old
Your inspiration is contagious, maybe
Although you are still called ‘Baby’
But believe me you are NO ole baby
Wrapped with a heart of gold
Your words are soft but still quite bold
Untouched by world’s cruel life style
Living always with a big broad smile
Having touched many weak, low minds
You helped them bloom in flowers upright
How do you curse, those abusive verse?
That is still coated with buttery words?
Your laughter is heard across the ocean
It rings with love and true affection
At sixty, hope you will grow more bold
Remember, you are not that old
Your inspiration is contagious, maybe
Although you are still called ‘Baby’
Friday, November 16, 2007
Facebook Poetry Competition number 1
The rules were simple: we had to post a poem no more than 8 lines, and must begin with the word "Face" and end with the word "book".
My take: six entries
Take 1:Face the truth
I am good
Starched are my collars
Now part with your dollars
‘Eight lines’ was the size
I deserve a prize
You collected enough clichés, look,
Now you can publish a book
Take2:
“Face it”,
You had said many times
Holding on to my trembling thighs
On those cold, clattering nights
Your precious words, a soothing balm
Could always mend my fissured heart
But now, look at you, a wrecked fool
I see you crumpled behind that book
take3:
Face above sand
caught in a blizzard
unprotected, helpless
trapped like a lizard
A joke turned sour
his friends, all gone
if by miracle ,he survives
he may write a book
Take 4:
Face of a baby, soft to a touch
Touch on a delicate petals of a rose
Rose, its fragrance hide the pain of the hurt
Hurt from a spike of a thorn beneath its bud
Bud, unfolded mystery, overlapping layer by layer
Layers hidden in the labyrinth of words
Words that come alive and dance on being off the hook
Hooked and trapped, they were, between the pages of a book
Take5:
Face the fact
Fact is no fiction that can be churned
Into a whirlpool of thoughts and feelings,
Fact is a simple truth
A virgin truth that cannot be altered
Not even in a book
Take6:
Face is potholed by too many pokes
Of friends and families in every nook
Vampires fights, somersaulting werewolf
Frightening shadows of their crazy look
Playing Scrabulous, and other virtual games,
Enjoying cold coffee by the brook
Many summers ago, on a rainy day like this
All I would do, was to just gape at a book
But the winners were with much better verses and the dollars went to
Facebook Poetry Competion 1.0
Here are the winners:
#1 Tolu Ogunlesi (Nigeria)
Instructions
Face the future.
Pick the moon off
the dark, cold floor
of night. Slot it gently
into the earth, and wait.
Nothing might happen.
Just like in an empty book.
#2 Janet Vickers (Vancouver, BC)
Face: what do you mean?
That nose gets larger each time
I see it. What can it smell?
Those lids become heavier
over bloodshot eyes and the mouth
droops so naturally. Your image
is intimate and your language foreign.
You are a heavy book.
#3 Dominic O’Rourke (London)
Face left the A Team
Around the end of the Eighties
having had enough
of Hannibal's cigars
and Mr T's golden chains
and Murdock being Murdock
He retired to a cabin,
in the woods and wrote a book
My take: six entries
Take 1:Face the truth
I am good
Starched are my collars
Now part with your dollars
‘Eight lines’ was the size
I deserve a prize
You collected enough clichés, look,
Now you can publish a book
Take2:
“Face it”,
You had said many times
Holding on to my trembling thighs
On those cold, clattering nights
Your precious words, a soothing balm
Could always mend my fissured heart
But now, look at you, a wrecked fool
I see you crumpled behind that book
take3:
Face above sand
caught in a blizzard
unprotected, helpless
trapped like a lizard
A joke turned sour
his friends, all gone
if by miracle ,he survives
he may write a book
Take 4:
Face of a baby, soft to a touch
Touch on a delicate petals of a rose
Rose, its fragrance hide the pain of the hurt
Hurt from a spike of a thorn beneath its bud
Bud, unfolded mystery, overlapping layer by layer
Layers hidden in the labyrinth of words
Words that come alive and dance on being off the hook
Hooked and trapped, they were, between the pages of a book
Take5:
Face the fact
Fact is no fiction that can be churned
Into a whirlpool of thoughts and feelings,
Fact is a simple truth
A virgin truth that cannot be altered
Not even in a book
Take6:
Face is potholed by too many pokes
Of friends and families in every nook
Vampires fights, somersaulting werewolf
Frightening shadows of their crazy look
Playing Scrabulous, and other virtual games,
Enjoying cold coffee by the brook
Many summers ago, on a rainy day like this
All I would do, was to just gape at a book
But the winners were with much better verses and the dollars went to
Facebook Poetry Competion 1.0
Here are the winners:
#1 Tolu Ogunlesi (Nigeria)
Instructions
Face the future.
Pick the moon off
the dark, cold floor
of night. Slot it gently
into the earth, and wait.
Nothing might happen.
Just like in an empty book.
#2 Janet Vickers (Vancouver, BC)
Face: what do you mean?
That nose gets larger each time
I see it. What can it smell?
Those lids become heavier
over bloodshot eyes and the mouth
droops so naturally. Your image
is intimate and your language foreign.
You are a heavy book.
#3 Dominic O’Rourke (London)
Face left the A Team
Around the end of the Eighties
having had enough
of Hannibal's cigars
and Mr T's golden chains
and Murdock being Murdock
He retired to a cabin,
in the woods and wrote a book
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Recipe for friendship
On the fire of warm passion
Heat a spoonful of love
Add in a pinch of compassion
And let your friendship grow
Stir it with emotions of love
Mix it in glassful of imagination
Simmer a while for cooking
A friendship of long duration
Strain out the hatred and disillusion
Churn out the degrees of suspicions
Grind the molecules of corruption
Pound away cloves of rough commotion
The emotions, pure and true, can be
Served with a salad of cheer
On those days of celebrations
When you feeling blue, my dear
Heat a spoonful of love
Add in a pinch of compassion
And let your friendship grow
Stir it with emotions of love
Mix it in glassful of imagination
Simmer a while for cooking
A friendship of long duration
Strain out the hatred and disillusion
Churn out the degrees of suspicions
Grind the molecules of corruption
Pound away cloves of rough commotion
The emotions, pure and true, can be
Served with a salad of cheer
On those days of celebrations
When you feeling blue, my dear
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Just say it
Not a shirt, on your back
On your knee like that
Know not what, do I do for you?
But darling I love you,
My roses for you are not blue
Don’t you see my profound feeling for you?
Oh, look around this place
All in suits and full of grace
None are bare backed and tanned like you
Don’t you worry, my Dear
I am crouched down here
Just soaking under sweet glances of you
Shoo! Go away right now
You will embarrass me, in this town
I think not, that I have ever spoken to you
You know me, my dear
You reside in my heart, up here
You may hear my love ballet for you
Not now, barebacked
Go home, I mean that
Or you will see, this big car, crush you
Crush me, sweet love
Crush me tight, with your words
But just say that you do, love me too.
On your knee like that
Know not what, do I do for you?
But darling I love you,
My roses for you are not blue
Don’t you see my profound feeling for you?
Oh, look around this place
All in suits and full of grace
None are bare backed and tanned like you
Don’t you worry, my Dear
I am crouched down here
Just soaking under sweet glances of you
Shoo! Go away right now
You will embarrass me, in this town
I think not, that I have ever spoken to you
You know me, my dear
You reside in my heart, up here
You may hear my love ballet for you
Not now, barebacked
Go home, I mean that
Or you will see, this big car, crush you
Crush me, sweet love
Crush me tight, with your words
But just say that you do, love me too.
Friday, October 26, 2007
World is Round
World is huge but still is round
Your smile can never meet a frown
Post-tiring day, its worth, you will see
Your love and care, always come around.
So pick your neck above the sand
And breathe the fragrance of love abound
Share your wealth of word and song
Let ego, hatred, filth be drowned
Walk with pride through streets of fame
Uplift souls that are weak or lame
Expect not a grain of thanks
Just do your bit and move along
Fruits of smile one day will reap
The flowers will bloom in your happy mind
World is huge but still you will see
Your compassion sure will come around.
-Pushpa
Your smile can never meet a frown
Post-tiring day, its worth, you will see
Your love and care, always come around.
So pick your neck above the sand
And breathe the fragrance of love abound
Share your wealth of word and song
Let ego, hatred, filth be drowned
Walk with pride through streets of fame
Uplift souls that are weak or lame
Expect not a grain of thanks
Just do your bit and move along
Fruits of smile one day will reap
The flowers will bloom in your happy mind
World is huge but still you will see
Your compassion sure will come around.
-Pushpa
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Thank U for this award
It feels good to be appreciated