Monday, August 31, 2009

A Story To Be Told

Let me tell you a story
A story
you already are
acquainted with
A story
of slained truth
Maligned humanity,
sacrificed dignity.

The story was forged
in the midnights
Half of august had gone
with almost
equivalent part of century
& ironically mother
was divided into half too
A part for me,another for you.

Now the part with me
like the part with you
was mutilated its humans humiliated
but we took pride,the way
foxes smile on a carcass
the soul was depleted
left over was just
a contaminated mass.

This contaminated mass
was what both sides wanted
& so badly that
they fought three times
over and over again
and you better know
that when a hand fights another
who gets the pain.

But many Augusts
have passed many will pass by
along with
many humans unknown
many a august company nigh
but who cares let them go
We would fight,we would die,
we would not bow.

So the story of blood carries on
though many die infants
or live for food
but never get much of it
slowly crawling to death
hunger,depravity
is what human is
destined to

and we fight for
land,
patriotism,
religion.
This fight is on whom
we are breathing
we are its minion

The story is in a circle
it goes
The red liquid is harmless
it just flows.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Story Of stars-Children Poem

Often I wondered
with amaze
at the night stars
& their twinkling glaze.

On a clear
moon lit night
can see
all stars glowing bright.

Countless Stars
their countless Abodes
an unknown traveler
alone on numberless roads.

hesitatingly Confronted Father
one such night,
asked the story of stars
their birth & blight.

God created them for all of us
each star for each man on earth
look into one select it as your pal,
share with it your sorrows your mirth.

I understood it all then
with smiles & glee
though looking into grown up world now
it baffles me.

If God is so merciful
so as to have infinite stars for zillions of men
why ain't Earth equal
for all of us then

Sunday, August 16, 2009

A Plate Full Of Mirth

Never really rich,was he.
neither did he aspire
for money a lot.Born into a huthold
where money was earned & spent the same day,
they did send him to school though,
with glee.
till he could write his name
& his fathers may be.

After some years the school fee
became almost equal
to the amount to be paid for
a few kilo of rice
& he knew,he was enough shrewd
that school would have to
be bartered for food

& he started working with his Bapu
on the constructional site,
now two earning members
in a huthold of five
made it easy a bit,where chances
were always bleak
& they started
having vegetables two days a week.

but fate,
took Bapu away,
or may be alcohol did.
But now vegetables
once a week
was what he dreamt,of late
Always though it was
an empty plate.

Once when his mother became ill
his sister came to give him his lunch
she never looked up
just came & went
but the labour head of the site
offered him to give a raise,
starting that night
if....

He stabbed him
with the empty liqur bottle
of that man.
He was sent to
jail for a few years.
He was bewilder
who was ethically wrong
he could not decipher.

The time finally arrived
back he came from the jail
with a renewed zeal & vigour.
His dignity on bail.
....

And today the night was dark
now he would break
into that mansion.
he wanted vegetables
four days a week,he would have it.
having his self worth
on sale
for a plate full of mirth.

Friday, August 14, 2009

Independence..

In some land far off
but still near
a man would wake up tomorrow
blinking with concern & fear
How he would get his food
& would shudder.
as no work is no food for him
wouldn't the national anthem let him bewilder


Easy was to have independence
from men alien & stronger
tough is to fight within
to attain freedom from hunger.

Sleepy dreams on an early morning day

T'was you who always resonated in my mind
as I spend my days & nights that way.
Yet you came & went staying a few moments
like the sleepy dreams on an early morning day.

Thee were like a word always recurring,a thought always echoed
out of some lament unknown,sonnets yet to be written.
Or may be like the feel of a Tranquil night
after the toil over hours under the burning sun.

Like a pain yet unexperienced
or an obscure anguish which has now allayed.
Yet you came & went staying a few moments
like the sleepy dreams on an early morning day.

You were like a reeking pleasure which is found
after rains has dripped the land.
Or perhaps in the midst of a dying autumn
a day filled with winds & sand.

Youre lovable lies were treasured,entwined
with my heart like suns & its ray.
Yet you came & went staying a few moments
like the sleepy dreams on early morning day.