Zero eight-zero seven

Zero eight-zero seven
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I tried to see in darkness,
Shivering in cold breeze,
Opened the door at the knock,
And greeted him-welcome please!

He was bright new YEAR,
Who entered my dwelling- place,
The radiance of divine light,
Was shining on his face.

He promised me all heaven,
To follow him behind-
All happiness, pleasure and joy,
Golden moments, that I rewind.

Terror, hatred, grief, and sorrow,
Calamities of wide range,
He assured to rub- off; only one question,
“ Can yourself in you, will change?”

I ignored that silly question,
Changing oneself is not a game,
Soon, digit-’eight’ faded to’ seven’
Old and new year was the same.
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Quite well here (Terrorism)

             

Quite well here                                             Friday,

                                                14-12-2007       

                                                                       

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I am standing here,

In this crowded street,

Lot of rush and noise persist,

I am firm on my feet.

Everything seems to be safe,

Except the human life,

An incident may darken the scene,

Only spare the ‘news’-to survive.

Terror has become the part of life,

By no means-anybody can ban,

Men can come over all evils,

But man cannot escape-man.

I see terror by face,

It looks as common as me,

Then what poison melts inside,

How anybody can kill me?

An unknown device may explode,

Shower of bullets may burst,

Always expect the unexpected,

Terrorism targets, from last to first.

Terror is mixed in air,

Terror is in the heart,

Innocents are the target,

Killing is the fine art.

Let me forget all this,

Nightmare is still in queue,

I am quite well here,

And I hope the same to you.

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Most obedient

The Most Obedient                               Friday,

                                                           9-12-2007            

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Man is most obedient,

When he locks his mind,

He stores the orders,

To faithfully, rewind.

It is easy to shut,

The mouth, eye, and ear,

To surrender the ‘self’,

And live without fear.

Like few pet animals,

Who dance on master’s tune,

Get bread and butter reward,

In the long chain, of- fortune.

Meaning of self-esteem,

They do not know,

Who yield to super powers,

Through corridor of life-they go.

Super powers innovate,

The regimentation of thoughts,

Mental slaves never say,

The ‘how’, ‘why’ and ‘what’!

This silent slavery ,

May one day bounce,

Clones may replace man,

To act as clowns.

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My dear enemy

              My dear enemy

          ****************

 

I know you, I recognize you,

You are one, in the long row,

I smile and welcome you,

You are my enemy, you are the foe.

 

Hatred is in the core of heart,

Chilled in the inner cage,

But modern trend teaches me,

-Paste the smile, on the face.

 

Weapons change with the age,

Now bloodshed is not seen,

When opponent opposes you,

Pretend all red signal; green.

 

All seem friendly, all well wishers,

Like next to kin, in the town,

All give firm support to leg,

And wonder! I fall down.

 

A friend may neglect me,

But enemy will never depart,

I may live in friend’s mind,

But I reside in enemy’s heart.

 

Now life is to act, not to live,

Society is one stage, as a whole,

At the cost of profitable deal,

Enemy and friend, change the role.

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Money Plant

    Money Plant                               Friday,

                                                         16-11-2007  

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It was the precious root,

Of a real MONEY-PLANT,

I planted it in my yard,

Safest place, of my haunt.

I took utmost care,

To safeguard the same,

It soon began to grow,

And then the result came.

Tiny plant became a tree,

Actual money poured out,

Coins, notes, currency, bills,

Money in all forms-stout.

Oh! But what this happened?

The tree was inclined, above all,

I was to water the root,

Branches crossed the boundary-wall.

My neighbor collected the fruits,

Money- plant was really funny,

Plant was no doubt, mine,

But others enjoyed the money.

Money is money, a solid fact,

It is not a work of art,

I set aside all great thoughts,

And cut the plant, with heavy heart.

I offered the root in charming pack,

To my neighbor- smiling wide,

To grow the same, with hard labor,

So that; fruits may come to my side.

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The story of story

       Story of story                     Friday,

                                                     9-11-2007     

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Stories had the same start-

“Once upon a time”

And that concluded the same,

A hero-worship rhyme.

 

The stories had legends,

Queens and kings,

They were honest, corrupt, fighters,

Devils, spirits, and angles on wings.

 

Meaning of story has changed,

Story was pure imagination,

Now, in the hands of journalist,

Is a weapon to create sensation.

 

Now story is a colorful picture,

Told with sensational rolls,

Be cautious-if it is ‘real’,

Reality and story are opposite poles.

 

Media plays with the words,

They hypnotize the mass,

Through the hole of a needle,

They can make the elephant pass.

 

Abstract is filled in material body,

You find the ready-made heroes,

A moment’s flash-and nobody knows,

How they come, and where they go.

 

It gets high ranking,

If story has scandal and glory,

Murder, rape, gossip make,

The modern- ‘story of story’.  

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The Wonderful BOMBAY

The wonderful BOMBAY                                           Friday, 2-11 2007

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Dreams of rising buds,

Youth, with vigor and gay,

Struggle for vent-despair and distress,

All melted together; coin Bombay.

A city crowded with mob,

Of all color, creed, and age,

Perceive- peak of liberal idols,

And crest of human bondage.

City rushes with jet speed,

Never sleeps in night,

People rise in blind-dark,

And fall in day-light.

No blast kills the spirit,

No terror stops Metro,

This giant roller crushes flat,

Any poison trying to grow.

People are unknown to each-other,

Loneliness exists in crowded city,

Faces seem faceless here,

But Bombay has top identity.

It stretches arms to welcome all,

There is firm soil, under the feet,

Open sky is above the head,

Rest; Bombay is ready to greet.

Any person who comes here,

To struggle for roof, and shelter,

Gets the matching color soon,

And becomes, branded-‘Mumbaikar’.

No unique city is found,

Away; from this city apart,

Certainly, the city- dwellers,

Have imprint of Bombay in heart

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Beyond Existence

                   Beyond Existence                          Friday,26-10-2007

            **********************

He was full of excitement,

His heart was beating fast,

Spending fifty years on a foreign land,

He was reaching his village ,at last.

He had past memory of his village,

When he was young boy of ten,

He still had a vision in his eyes,

Of that place, as it was then.

Narrow lanes, and thorny bushes,

Endless fields, fragrance of land,

Round shouldered huts, zigzag fence,

Neighboring river, and knocking sand.

Crop as regiment, standing high,

Greenery laid on the bed of soil,

Tough farmers, with rigid figures,

Fighting their fate, in turmoil.

When he reached his native place,

He was shocked, with series of quakes,

His vision,his village,his dreamland,

Had turned, into an industrial -complex.

His village did not exist any more,

Dreamland was not there to define,

There was a sign- board flashing,

“National Highway Twenty- Nine.”

Highway joins the giant metros,

To bridge the new age, by presence,

A tiny river dies beneath the bridge,

To become memory; beyond existence.

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Welcome to circus

Welcome to circus               FRIDAY,

 

                                              19-10-2007

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Welcome to this circus,

It is free of cost,

All are guests here,

Everyone is host.

 

See these poor creatures,   

Playing the lion’s role,

Out crying the master’s voice,

Tamed, from head to sole.

 

A man lashes the pets,

Who merrily play the tricks,

They surrender, and learn,

That heaven is behind bricks.

 

See that colorful man,

Begging your faith and vote,

Swinging above, on the roof,

To vanish, without a note.

  

This is rope trick,

Balancing oneself in air,

Any moment he seems to fall,

But for five years, glued there.

  

Here, see one magic,

A girl in gown, so dirty,

She disappears next moment,

Her name is poverty.

  

Finally, enter the circus-jokers,

Who waive mirrors-high and low,

People laugh, and laugh, and laugh,

With “THE END”-starts, second show.

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Good better and best (Word vision)

Good better and best

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I see your rosy cheeks,

And your lips so mild,

I fear to touch you,

-my infant child.

You are my love, my life,

My mirror, and my vision,

Flying in dream horizon,

-my colorful pigeon.

I shield you from evils,

Armor you with my arm,

I can fight the whole world,

Let misery come, in any form.

But sorry to say, babe,

With myself, I cannot fight,

I have darkened this world,

Instead of giving it light.

Future has wrapped your gift,

That is pollution, atom, and terror,

Beauty is beautifully killed,

And we all pretend-not our error.

We all, who blame each other,

Were one time, babes, in our nest,

Had seen a vision of this world,

To be- good;better; and best

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