Hopes Revived-The gift of independence

As i struggle to get to work
and reach office on time
Reading the newspaper filled
with issues of rising crime.

As i break a couple of traffic rules
driving and attending calls
Cursing and honking at other cars
as traffic snarls and crawls.

Selling Indian flags from car to car
a poor boy goes about
'India is free, so take your flags,'
he continuously shouts.

He comes to my car and taps on the glass
as the  i roll it down
Wondering about the sea of poverty
and in how India drowns.

I think about politicians looting us
the people in need
India is progressing today
but in corruption it continues to lead.

A piece of news catches my eye
of crimes against women
'Why can't the government protect
them,so that these crimes don't happen.'

The next page talks of separatists
as through India they draw lines
'To whom does India belong?
Your religion or mine?'

Neighbouring countries mock and taunt
on a thing we never agree
Ceasefires violated and boundaries scarred
'Was this the cost of becoming free?'

The traffic moves at snail's pace
and the signal, a beckoning green
But i haven't moved an inch
and red is already seen.

So back to our newspaper now
as pockets are eaten by prices
'Our country is in doldrums now
with crisis over crisis.'

As i curse our Government
the traffic divides now
As cars move to the side of roads
an ambulance to pass, they allow.

A man steps out of his car
and he directs the traffic with great patience
Our hopes are revived and that is
the Gift of Independence.

India will get better
even though a lot has to be done
If we the people be the change
half our battle is won.

 
 


 

 

The first rains of Monsoon

From the balcony i overlooked
the narrow, dusty street
With blaring horns and cussing drivers
adding to the dust and heat.

Turning my head towards the sky
the afternoon eyes flashing my eyes
I retreated into the shade of the flat
risking blindness otherwise.

My flat burned like a furnace
with summer at its peak
The weather forecast gone horribly 
wrong,predicting the first rains this week!

A few hours went by
as my body soaked in sweat
Desperately praying for a little relief
in the form of an early sunset!

And then a cool shadow greeted the earth
as clouds gathered up fast
Shielding the Sun completely from view
The sky completely overcast.

A gale now blew with force
as trees swayed and thrashed
The sky hellbent on unleashing its fury 
as powerful bolt flashed.

A loud boom as thunder followed suit
and temperatures steadily dropped
And then another thunderous roar
and everything stopped!

And then a fresh burst of torrential rain
this season's very first
Greeting the parched Earth 
and quenched its terrible thirst.

The traffic snarls at night
still continuing from noon
was washed away from memories
as we welcomed those First Rains of Monsoon.



 

War has come

So quiet , so peaceful
the World we find
As soldiers fight out there
behind enemy lines.

Friends become enemies
and patriots are put to test
For the country they love
Another they have to detest.

A horde of savages fight
and rivers of blood flow
Peace screams for help
as War strikes its fatal blow.

The hounds of War let loose
as they spread like wild fire
Releasing Pain and Suffering 
the two children, War sired.

War rips apart a country
relations painfully torn
and Death reins supreme
with Survivors left to mourn.

The Sky looks down on us
and hears our painful cries
To fulfill War's bloodlust
countless sacrificed.

We gain nothing from War
and what Peace gains is lost
And War's extolls a heavy price
as we now pay the cost.

As our peaceful quiet is disturbed
by the thundering of War drums
As we now witness carnage and death
we know War Has Come.
 

The Call Of The Blue Bird

A bright blue speck on the grey horizon
a sight at which i beheld my eyes
A welcome relief from the dull city sights
That Blue Bird in the grey sky.

Its periodic,recurring,ringing cry,
an exhilarating tune at the city's heart
Listening and going back to our roots
back to being Mother Nature's part.

Its bright blue wings a beautiful sight
a blood red beak to behold
Its chest a color hard to miss
which i would say yellowish gold.

The bird would perch, oblivious to the noise
as i trained my camera lens
Straining to capture that perfect shot
 located at a good distance.

Despite its appearance, difficult
to find, a bird watcher now i was
Waiting for it to turn up
and then clicking its random shots.

Listening to its unique call
i would expect and wait for hours
Praying it not be scared away
by construction and honking cars!

And then came a day i was waiting for
as on my window it showed
I rushed in to get the camera
and thanking for the chance bestowed!

And as i got the camera
a cracker burst so loud was heard
That frightened away the poor thing
and off went that Blue Bird!

I waited for months to come
but that call again i never heard
That call which connected me to it
The Call Of The Blue Bird.
 
 
 
 
 

With those Sad, Lonely eyes of mine.

She would walk through that door
and set everything right
My heart comforted just
by her sight.

Her existence was for granted
She would always be there
I could always let go
for she would take care.

But 'forever' never lasts
and those days had to end
Where she went i would 
never know or understand.

Under the illusion i was
of being thoroughly 'self made'
But she was always by my side
and soon those memories too shall fade.

Nothing lasts forever
and soon i will have to move on
Those days of togetherness
those days forever gone.

She was my soul mate
the better half of mine
A missing part of my heart 
for which i shall pine.

Now everyone cries around me
and i am totally confused
Fifty years of life gone
in those deathly moments so few.

The next phase of my life awaits
and again it shall never be fine
As i look forward to the unknown
With those Sad, Lonely Eyes of mine.
 

The journey of a Soul.

The body for a soul is a makeshift home
a home in the living where it dwells
It is like a crab which keeps moving
the body is but a shell.

The soul has a time to stay
and then a time to go
But these times are undecided
times it may never know.

In life when it does good
Heaven it creates where it dwells
And in a thousand lives when it does bad
It creates a thousand living hells.

The soul is a gypsy which travels on
a traveler without a goal
The journey is all that matters
for the ever lasting soul.

A soul is immortal and pure
in it the truth is met
Everything else is an infinite illusion
as are life and death.

The soul, never weighed by material
to be free it is a must
The soul neither begins or ends
and a body born, one day is dust.

The soul is a piece of God
and Him it shall one day meet
And then for the next cycle to come
with Him, it shall be complete.

For that it goes through life and death
they are what make the cycle whole
And this cycle shall go on Forever
which is the JOURNEY OF A SOUL.

HOSTAGE

A crisis has occured
so very far away
For our loved ones out there
we continue to pray.

As fear grips us for
 as the unknown strike
Giving us a taste of
what terror feels like.

For these men fight
for a cause insane
They are brainwashed
and their hearts inhumane.

They are cowards who
stab and attack from behind
They are a blot on their faith
their religion maligned.

We cut one head
and ten seem to emerge
It sacrifices followers
with its leaders at large!

The World is united
and it shall fight back
As they prepare to launch
another cowardly attack!

And now a nation is in trouble
as they spread carnage
To further their means
they hold Peace, hostage.