Category Archives: Poem

Only just so much

I shall teach you this

only just so much

that you know the way

my way, our way

I shall hold you thus

only just so much

that you know my side

the only side you will ever know

I shall open you up

only just so much

that you know what’s right

my right

Go on be independent

only just so much

just enough for you know

you are dependent on me

Go on be assertive

only just so much

to know to assert

my right over you

You my love be proud

only just so much

to know the pride

of being mine

and she broke away…

 

PS: On watching Monalisa Smile

Thinking Teenager

‘Who am I ?

what is my calling?’

said the girl all of nineteen

‘the existential angst plagues each human’

the girl observed gravely.

The mother kept quiet wondering

did I provoke too much?

did I prod and probe where it hurts?

the desire to encourage can sometimes be detrimental

the urge to awaken can sometimes irritate.

The junk food lover nodding to western beats

was wiser beyond her thoughts

so the mother sat quiet in awe of the thinking teenager.

Taking Offence

The telling or being discreet.

The love, the hate, or both being excessive.

The beauty or the lack of it.

The freedom or the imprisonment or the love.

The dirt around or the exquisite cleanliness of it all.

The growth of the mind, the body, the conscience or the absence of it all.

The humor or the seriousness of it all.

The over flow of energy or the vacuum

The exemplary art or the artlessness

The praise or the critique or the criticism

The hunger, the pain or the pleasure

The company or the absence of it

What is it that offends

What is that piques

Those that rejoice in taking offence?

I wouldn’t know.

Would you?

 

 

 

To Sing

How beautiful is it to sing

to be able to lend music to your voice

to touch a heart or two

in verses that may not yet be yours

how divine is it be blessed so

with a voice that plays on a string or two

of hearts one or more

how gifted are these

that know to pitch a song

in tunes that are perfect to ears

how soothing is it to hear

the melody of the soul

blessed are those that sing

pouring heavenly manna

into parched lives.

And the sky walked in….

And the sky just walked in 

a picture in azurest blue

dangling silver

swaying grace and dignity

we watched wonder-struck

wide her hips

open her heart

a killing smile played on her lips

she stopped a moment

as if to acknowledge an offering

and walked on

we craned our necks to see

her speechless dignity

beauty we had seen before

but what we saw in her today

defied every explanation

coz in her sat every hue

dressed in its glory.

PS: Inspired by my beautiful colleague dressed in blue.

 

Sitting pretty,the eyes

Sitting pretty

amidst interesting story telling lines

(They call them wrinkles)

criss-crossing

in long boat like shapes

they smiled at me- the eyes

I looked back

eager to make the right impression

but like every other time

I shuffled

stuck a finger up my nose

scratched my chin

furrowed my forehead

and mumbled ‘hello’

bright,small and blue

the eyes looked calm, intent

and then shut off

as if to obliterate me

I worked up anger

whiffed up cuss words

when they opened again

and laughed at me loud

I fell in line

we laughed together.

 

And we build their homes

I pitched a tent

on a vacant plot

and waited

and waited

no one appeared

not a single soul

days went by

months went by

I flourished in the tent

I thought it mine

I swept it clean

I pasted broken pieces of marble tiles

at the entrance to make it like home

It was good, we felt at home

All five of us

Me, my wife and our children

My little girl brought more marble pieces of yellow

The boys brought red, green and a shade of mauve

They stuck it well, laughing as they did it

While she and I worked at carrying bricks

Up and then mortar and then much more.

We slept happy with pieces of  marbles tiles at our entrance

Which was also our whole home

Then my girl brought home a small hibiscus plant

And my wife helped her grow with her children

“We are now six”, she said happily

When a little cat wandered in

My wife cried “oh, great we are now seven”

And she said how seven was a great number

Her father was seven when he got his first job

Cleaning toilets at the masters home

“And it was good enough for all of us

We had enough to eat and drink”

It was by then, all done,the home

Their home, outside which we had ours

Now they will move in

And we have to move out

To where they build new homes

So that we can pitch our tent outside

So that she and I can carry bricks, mortar and much more

She said, half jokingly,

“I like my home just near my work place

besides which construction labour ever got a nanny?”

Our children will now make it better

The piece of land where I will pitch my tent,our home

Till the work is done and then we move on

I know sometimes climbing up and down

I might just not return

Well, I know her well,my wife

She will pitch the tent, make a home and feed my children

Perhaps a new man will join her, perhaps not.

 

Hush

Hush, I said

calm

compose

shut your eyes

sleep

the world that seeks

will wait at the window

the men that ask

keep them at the door

hush I said

calm

compose

shut your eyes

sleep

the world that you seek

waits on you

hold,cherish,hold

the mind, let her talk

the heart, listen to her

and forget.forget.forget.

Of Fear To Be

A little fear has crept into my heart

fear of failure

despite many before

in life, in love, in living and yes, in earning

failures that helped me be

failures that taught me who I am and who I am not

failure to convince, to cajole, to maneuver

failure to hold the centre stage and parade

failure to manufacture out great looking food

while still managing to create great food

failure to change, to adapt, to assert

failure to stand up at times

yet, today a fear of a failure all too familiar

of telling a story, ah, funny, that’s what I love the most

yet there it is, in the corner

of perceived notions of planning, effectiveness and a certain show off

a tingling sensation of will I be?

won’t I be?

then smile, breathe, peace

if failure is mine,so is victory

many times over and over

in small yet significant measures

coz I am this and I am that too

both failure and success and everything else

coz there is nothing like failure but just another lesson to remember

go be the story teller, be the writer, the speaker, the traveller, the trainer and the teacher

go be the lover of words, of arts, be the leader and the innovator and the protector, ah, yes, that is important

go be the receiver of love, of respect, of name and fame in measures that fit you

go be you, be who you be

go rule the world, coz all that is within you is without!