Her willing prisoner (2003)
This year in my trip
To the Himalayas,
I met this woman –
An incredibly beautiful lass.
Then amidst my worldly cares,
Entered beauty,
Into my transfixed stare.
She wore a blue headdress
And green skirts;
Though pretty as she was,
She looked like a flirt.
Her blouse dotted in brown
With pretty white lace,
Made a perfect match
To her fair face.
From that moment on,
When I first set eyes on her,
Her smile cast a spell
And set me on fire.
The twinkle in her eye,
Gave me a divine high;
And her rolling laughter,
Made me her willing prisoner.
The gait in her walk,
Was almost alcoholic,
And her merry talk,
Spoke only of fun and frolic.
Her enchanting voice,
Made promises of pleasure.
A touch of her icy hand,
Had warmth of infinite measure.
The wind in her hair,
Made the loveliest curls.
A million flowers she held,
In her hand, this girl.
By the sunshine and the moonlight,
The smooth skin of this dame;
Looked as if it would put,
A thousand diamonds to shame.
With her breath of incense,
She walked in the light.
Her charm thus led me seeking her,
Far into the night.
I called her by names,
Soft and sweet.
With stars above my head,
And the sand at my feet.
The moment I approached,
She changed her route.
Untiringly yet, I followed her,
In close pursuit.
She kept hiding,
Behind trees and rocks and hills.
But I walked on and searched,
By roads and men and mills.
Long after, tired of her game,
Of hide and seek and flirtation,
I sat me down,
With heartache and desperation.
Then a familiar sound drifted into the air,
And I opened my eyes slowly.
My joy knew no bounds,
As I saw her before me.
The startling revelations then,
In my life have made changes.
But why such games,
My dear Mother Ganges?
The Ebb (2002)
One does not dare
To see any more,
After looking around.
Life’s so unfair!
To suck the life out of
A new bud.
Our faiths in God,
Become an object of doubt.
Tears in a mother’s eyes,
Watching her lap emptied
Every day is an agony
And those pitiful sighs…
What helplessness and desperation
Before death’s cold stare.
All prayers are but fruitless
On fate’s cruel condemnation.
What? Ebb so soon
Of the new spring of life
That is yet to taste the air outside
Yet to feel the warmth of noon
The equation is distasteful.
When the old yearn for death
The young ones go to their tombs.
Is life beautiful?
The Two Little Devils (2002)
The mind plays annoying games, you know?
With the naughty accompaniment of the heart.
You may get angry as you want,
But these guys are really very smart.
They bewilder and perplex,
And puzzle and confuse;
And if these were not enough,
They tempt and you cannot refuse!
They make you believe in improbabilities,
Then make you chase impossibilities.
And then it’s not long before you see
That they laugh at you in mockery.
Admonish them, they will abscond,
Reprimand, and they will race.
You try to catch and bind them,
And you’ll fall flat on your face.
With impatience and fortitude,
If you’ve learnt to tame,
These two little devils; I’ll wager
For your victory in life’s race.
…And The Heavens Weep In Concurrence (2002)
If the tears that flood
Are for an earnest sorrow,
The oceans will show reverence
And the heavens weep in concurrence.
Sighs that are heaved,
From a heavy bosom,
Make the winds blow in turbulence,
And the heavens weep in concurrence.
An intense pain
That wrecks the wretched self,
Causes the earth to shake in violence
And the heavens weep in concurrence.
The anguish, the hurt
That make the heart burn
Setting mighty forests ablaze
And the heavens weep in concurrence.
When anger in vanquished,
And the soul surrenders
To calm, peace and silence,
No more will then
The heavens weep in concurrence.
Reflections (2003)
Today is the day –
I knew it was coming,
Coming my way.
And it has created ripples
In the still waters of my life.
Though none is responsible,
But I.
So, I’ll have to be alone
To face this strife.
But what is my fault?
Where did I go wrong?
Maybe it’s my heart,
Maybe it’s the pain it feels
Because it has been torn apart.
Or maybe it’s my mind,
Which cannot concentrate
And flutters like a butterfly.
Which does not understand
No matter how hard I try.
And why?
Why does it love the one
Who never cares?
Or maybe it’s me,
Who has caused hurt to another
And the tears that fall,
Fall off my eyes,
Is the price I’m paying
For every tear of the one I hurt,
Of the one who loved.
God, forgive me.
Perceptual Difficulties? (2002)
The race for money, the fight for status,
The hunger for fame, what will it get it?
These are the questions, that scream and shout,
And make me look at life, with an uneasy doubt.
It is a difficult place, this world, to live in
A ruthless people, with a dishonest grin.
Is it only money that matters? Looks that way to me.
If there’s another perspective, I’d really like to see.
Competition, competition: is the only way to live.
Relationships are business; I take and you give.
Emotion, emotion…where are you?
You were a close friend in a time I once knew.
Name and fame and wealth and lust,
As they come about, bring along distrust.
Life is beautiful, as good as it can be,
But is a price tag attached? Or does it come free?
Nature is wonderful; so is the building of 100 feet.
Feelings are weaker than bricks and concrete.
Show me a world, where man has a heart,
Made of flesh, not steel and is God’s integral part.
Without Electricity (2000)
Last night we went out to see,
A play: mummy, daddy and me.
Blast it! When we reached
Loadshedding!
It kept us all waiting.
There I saw faces –
Dismayed, flustered, worried
And I saw people moving,
Hither, tither and harried.
It was then that I realized,
How helpless were we
Without electricity!
I sat there bored,
Observing, wondering –
Then a good look around
Set me thinking…
What was life like
When lights were not there?
To move on with their lives,
Did people not care?
Was it like what
Happened last night
When everything came to a standstill
When out when the light.
What did people do
Without an AC or a fan?
Did he act like this,
An impatient, restless man?
How did man spend time,
Without a TV or a tape?
And did he never cook,
Without a microwave?
Did he not clean the house
Without the vacuum cleaner?
Did he not do the dishes
Without a dishwasher?
And the housewives’ love
A washing machine by name,
About the laundry,
What was done for the same?
I’m sure things were done,
Before, as they are today.
The only difference is,
The change in the way.
Why can’t we live life
Like people in the past?
Where power wasn’t a factor,
In making happiness last.
Nah, I must be crazy,
Isn’t it too plain to see?
That we are plain crippled,
Without electricity!
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