World Cup 2010

"aren't we all seeking the source?"

Poems (30) Satire (2) Thoughts (8)

Monday, April 26, 2010

The train I never caught

The journey is lauded as exotic
Existing route to happiness
A place most visited
I bought a ticket too

The faces I will meet
The food I will share
The laugh I will cause
The love I will spread

I packed in a hurry
On my way to station
I came across a robin’s nest
Fallen from comfort

I walked past the nest
A cry pierced my heart
I could not, I will not
I have a train to catch

I spotted the mother robin
A mannequin of helplessness,
hanging on to a branch
What a terrible nest you made?

I picked the nest up
Three blue eggs, not a scratch
I looked at the robin
You do know how to weave

I climbed the robin’s tree
She flew higher to a wide branch
And tapped it with her beak
I placed the nest there

I ran to the station
Waving the ticket at no one
I was 25 minutes late
The train had left

I will not see happy faces
The food will get cold
The laughter will not be heard
The love will not be seen

I sat down near a pillar
I thought about the three lives,
inside the blue shell
I smiled..

Sunday, April 18, 2010

The Longing...

She came to a sudden halt
After running for answers
Staring at the moment’s fault
The rain drowned her whispers

I saw my fear in her eyes
The question lay in our midst
When a part of something dies
Nothing will justify the twist

Her eyes spoke not to leave
Her face a fracture of concern
Like martyrs to time’s weave
We fell apart never to return

Adventures in love we created
Became memories I dread to visit
Debris of a love knowingly defeated
Floats around which I can not resist

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

The living Lamp

I opened an unknown door
Darkness awaited me
I dared to venture far
Soon I lost my way

While I cursed my stupidity
A fire fly came flickering
In the glow of the living lamp
I felt for the source of power

I turned the lights on
A single ‘wow’ got away
A riot of colors
On every wall, every fabric

Blue ceiling is beyond reach
Fresh flowers in every pot
The walls are pulsating
With drawings that feel

I knelt there humbled
Holding the fire fly
Praising the moment
I opened the door

Monday, April 12, 2010

Public Opinion and the Donkey

This post is a direct reply to Anju Gandhi' post here about the suffering people undergo in order to escape from the wrath of  'what will others think?

How I got over this syndrome is by reading a great story when i was a child.

A father and son were coming back from market after buying a donkey.
First they let the donkey walk beside them. One onlooker pointed out that they are crazy to not use the donkey to carry one of them.  Then the loving father put his son on top of the donkey and after walking some miles another person who came across said what a spoiled kid, children should not be pampered like this,  let the kid walk and learn the hardships of life.  So the humiliated father thought it’s better if he sits on the donkey.

After going some distance someone else pointed out to the father that he is stupid to not let the kid travel with him on the donkey. He pointed out that the donkey can carry them both. The father was ashamed why it never occurred to him. So he decided to carry the boy with him.

Half way home the donkey fell down and the father and son ended up carrying the donkey the rest of the way to home.

To those who listen to public opinion you will always have to carry your donkey sooner or later

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Arranged Torture

India is a land of arranged marriages. Most of them are set into motion for financial gains and some are arranged to get rid of the girl. Some with the permission of the bride and some without. A majority are done in the name that the girl will straighten the guy out and make him a good person. This, my friends, is the most ridiculous excuse I have ever come across for an arranged marriage.

The first day of a hastily arranged marriage often starts with the poor woman gaping at the erected manhood and cowering in the bed. The only difference between arranged marriage and rape is that the former is approved by the society and her parents. How many women in India silently suffer because her parents and relatives ‘knew’ what is best for her? How many of them started the most important day in their life half heartedly. If two people who are in no way compatible with each other is simply going on because each one is afraid in his/ her own way what the others will think if they divorce or run away, Is society’s way of setting up marriages a good thing then? 

The marital counseling is a farce; the only thing they are concerned about is the religious propaganda of that particular religion which conducts the counseling. The candidates are drilled to abide by the laws of that religion and raise their young in the same way.

Talking about young ones, It is a pre requisite in India to produce an offspring within one year of the wedding or at least make the girl pregnant in one year or else, one will be bombarded with questions regarding the reproductive capability of the concerned. Most often it’s the woman who is subjected to such rude remarks. Of course, it is a taboo to doubt the man’s ability in a patriarchal society. So the fault is always with the woman. How convenient!

Once the children are born then all the frustration in a failed marriage is blamed on one thing ‘for the sake of the children’.

PS: recently I came across an advertisement of one of the famous matrimonial sites of India which explicitly told me to come and increase your chance in the marriage ‘market’. Well that’s exactly what it is, a market where men and women are exchanged.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010


Every second I die..
To rise from the ashes of time
To look my past self in the eye
To say you are not worth a dime

The new me is superior
Rebirth is the key
The new me draws fresh air
And mocks the past me

Thus I atone my space
Every second, every day
To tread alone in this maze
To keep the darkness at bay

To persevere here
I live every moment
I tick every second
Rebirth is the key

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Who knocked?

While counting my mounting sorrows,
someone knocked on my mind’s door
Is it my charming lover melancholy?
Is it my probing friend named hope?

I would love to invite melancholy,
and be lost in her soothing embrace
Yet I would like a glimpse of hope,
whom I haven’t seen in years

Like wisdom waiting in front of,
the sacrificial chamber of beauty
I stood there without knowing,
who is more welcome…

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Wild Rose

For Some one who loves flowers...

Alone and cold stood the wild rose..
Bathed in the morning dew
So fortunate in your obscurity
Yet vulnerable in your beauty

Your radiance strikes at hatred
Every curve announces perfection
You know your smallness..
Yet proud in these dark woods

One glance is all it took
You are my wild rose..
You know nothing about love
But filled my heart with it


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