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Sunday, March 30, 2008

My Angel


Her childlike smile enchanted me
She led me with ease on her little finger
I danced on her tune
And made a fool of myself..
I adored her for her angelic looks
Forgetting mine, that drove people away..
Infinitely thankful for being loved
Inspite of my ugliness…
Inspite of all my shortcomings
Years later on the thresh hold of death
I love her more for being with me
All through the dark days
Loving me, giving me strength
Showing me the path that leads to light
For being able to look inside and love myself
For being one with my angel
Living in my soul…..

Black Hole




The tall lanky girl with her awkward gait

Stood alone outside the circle that surrounded me
I wanted to catch her eyes that looked beyond
Eyes that concealed more than what anyone could say ;
Dark clouds gathered on the distant sky
And gusty winds started blowing…
People scattered like fallen leaves
Hurrying across the river bed
To their little huts
That they thought were safe..
I looked at those eyes
laughing dancing and lighting up
Like those flashes beyond the clouds..
Drawing me near with a fierce desire with certain knowledge
Lingering within that “touch her
And you are gone
Gone with the winds
Beyond the clouds
Into the black hole
An ocean of death……..”

Friday, February 8, 2008

Poor man"s wish list

I saw the moon shining like a golden platter
And how I wished that it was really so…
When we beg, gold dusts would drop like rain drops
Covering our earth, the green of which is vanishing fast
Behind smoke screens and skyscrapers.


When the sun rises in the morning it looks like a ball of fire;
And so it is; burning us with hunger and thirst
With so little to have, our children die of the fire burning
In their tummy which tap water cannot quell.
I sit in the street corner
Wishing for the gold dust to fall on earth
Passers by drop one or two – only coins they are
And for half a loaf our children fight like wolves…

At a distance I hear comrades cheering their leader
Who fought for the cause of poorest of the poor!
Result bringing in the shower of votes.
How I wish that it was a shower of gold dust covering our path…

MIRROR TALK


It’s true we do not have any time for the old
‘Cause we treat them only as a stepping stone.
Arms that cradle become withered with time and
We shrug them off as our burden of bones.

But I paused and looked at the Mirror-
Who am I ? The flower or the seed ;
We stop and sweat and wait for our child
To come of age; with love and delight.-
We let go our train but is it in vain?
Day and night we toil for them
To blossom and prosper-
But in the end, do we want to be thrown in the drain
That holds our parents and their folks too;
The mirror screamed ‘now it is time for YOU
To fall in the ravine that you dug for your old’

It is only you who can rewrite the story
And see a happy new one getting unfold
For you and you, who love your roots
Shall get the fruit of an evergreen tree.
You’ll see rainbows with heavenly hues
Embracing your sky, driving away the blues.

So look at your eyes and say I will not wither
Nor shall I let my roots to rot and die,
The river flows forever and ever;
You take the waves to a new high .