Sunday, 28 July 2013

My Daughters

Photo courtesy https://www.facebook.com/themagnifier
The rain poured heavy 
The melancholy spread the grief 
And she too shed a tear.
My daughters, siblings in fate 
And pals in sorrow.
Over the lush carpet of green,
My leaves rustle, shining with dotted pearls,
My tears they were, but none knew!
As they whisper the tale of mine,
The tale of my daughters. 

She was small, a tiny lass and played beneath me 
She hugged and counted on me
And grew under my shade.
The long swing she loved,
the breeze that blew her high,
Breathed to me, She is mine.
My little kid.

My branches spread, to grow wide 
She too ceased being my naughty child.
Then came in the cuckoo 
To hug my bosom and fill my heart with her songs.
Built her nest and lived in me
She my daughter, the younger one.

Came by the smile of spring,
Never lone my daughters would ever be in their nests 
Found they their flames in life.
Alas, little they knew, seasons change!

Leaves yellowed to crumple in damp fields
As rain washed away their smiles,
Flooding in the grief of winter,
Flew into another nests my daughter's mates!
And I, a lost father, could not for once
Shade them from the storm, under my girth.
As the rain cleanse the Earth, 
A father's tear go unseen,
As melancholy that go unheard in the patter of the shower,
Tells the tale of mine and my daughters!

Sunday, 21 July 2013

Crime and Punishments


Shifting blames wouldn't help. Attitude need to be altered. Award them the same rank as yours, put yourself in their shoes, think and feel. Then, rein the battle to save them from the trail to their pyres. Homage to the 23 lives who withered away, before the spring. Being hungry was their crime and this the punishment? 




picture owned by
http://www.indianexpress.com/news/bihar-middaymeal-tragedy-probe-report-blames-principal/1144092/


Neelam waved her tiny hands at Mauni, her Maai. Striving hard not to sublime to tears, she too waved back.Why didn't Neelam cry, like all the kids used to, on their first day at school? Maybe she too was weary of the chaos of yester night. After all she was too little to know what all the fuss was about! The only thing Neelam knew was, she missed her playmate, her brother and he wasn't to be seen anywhere. Least did she knew, her brother waved bye to walk to his grave the last day, from this very gate ...... With grief misting her eyes, Mauni waited before the office.....

The society would spit on her. They would call this, a ruthless act of a heartless mother, and the people with the mikes and cameras would weave stories out of her. But only Mauni knew that mourning and pity wouldn't fill her 3 year old's tummy. And she was left with no option than to sent Neelam to eat from the same kitchen, which served her son, his last supper. Several officials and media people, in their pricey attires and serious faces hissed curses on each other, inside the worn out office room. But it couldn't matter to "lesser mortals" like Mauni and thousands like her. For, she knew the battle, they claimed to fight for these people had nothing to do with real pains of their lives. A futile battle it was, for survival was the biggest battle for all of them! 
At last the self acclaimed warriors flooded out of the office room, through the puny door. Mauni entered and met the lady inside. She pleaded with the Supreme Lady to admit her Neelam, in the school. She nodded her head slowly. Mauni sighed and turned back, to take her leave. Then she heard Her, speaking under her breath, " Ah! Is she nuts? She lost her son the last day and instead of being at home, she decides to admit her daughter to this same school today! Does she wanna kill her daughter too? Insane."  Mauni couldn't take it anymore, she wept bitterly. But more was in reserve for her.  

The media pounced at the Mother, with the pleasure of having found the prey of the day. Questions pierced through her heart and tears were all Mauni had in reply. Little did they know that, for mothers like Mauni, mourning was way too expensive, but hunger came for free and ate them up! 


Tuesday, 9 July 2013

A Shadow Speaks

I turned a reflex, 
Not to meet envying, lost glances.
Off the world that differed from all, I moved,
Having found my way back!


Unaware of how long I belonged,
Belonged to a world of shadows.
A world shrunk to the winding stairs,
Killing silence and the long corridor.
A shadow bankrupt of spirit and soul, I was.
Beads that moved in prayers,
Moist eyes that never dried, And
Pale walls wearing a shroud of gloom.

A moment it took, a jerk and screech,
As he found his way to the threshold of death,
And thrown out to here, I ,
A halt to the rushing life,
The happiness of mine, shattered.
Alas, the world went on without me,
As I found solace in co-shadows!


In a corridor that smelt of deaths and rebirths,
Together we waited, for the door to open.
Saviours and angels rushed in and out,
With faces worn out of compassion,
Not an emotion seen in them,
For broken desires and bruised hearts, way beyond they could heal!
The silence broken by murmuring fans,
Fans, that spread the stench of sweat, our only incense!
Between the battle of death and life, 
They lie inside the doors,
And we in this corridor wait.
Endless moments tick by, and all we do, still wait!

The lights that never faded, brought in hope,
His life, restored to senses,
And the door opened with good news!
It was time left for curtain,
An end to the life of this shadow.

Never to turn back to the corridor,
I fled, cacheing all my dreams, close to heart,
Leaving back the haunting memories,
Erasing the faces of shadows I met,
Pals of a different life, they were, now,
For, no more I was a bystander!