Cosmic Rythm

A Hot Chase

Devil will never die,
However, every Christ
Will certainly be crucified
For being too bold, too right.

Before any change is wrought
In the devil-ruled heart,
Gandhi, Luther and the like
Are sure to be hated and shot.

The dark empire of Evil,
Exacts cruelly heavy tariff
From every ray of hope
That touches its shore.

Every angel comes with a torch,
Holding till it burns him all;
Then darkness spreads again,
Little stars twinkle in vain.

Stars appear dim and meek,
Play with the dark hide-and-seek;
They go on waiting for some moon,
And feeling tired, they vanish soon.

Night may be dense and dark,
But yield not, be stiff and hard.
See how it is running to hide its face,
The Sun is hot on the chase!

I Met a Snob

I met a snob in the campus,
Full of conceit, highly bumptious.

His visage was big but vision small,
Being short-sighted, he couldn’t see all.

He spoke much in borrowed accents,
Half English and half American.

Indianism in him he couldn’t bear,
So foreign styles he picked with care.

His native lips hummed alien tune,
Tied to earth, he kissed the moon.

His title was big, his knowledge affected,
A few toadies he had collected.

Since he happened to be in the chair,
He gulped down all and refused to share.

Creative work he couldn’t like,
His only job was to criticise.

Imperfect, but expected perfection,
He couldn’t stitch, so did dissection.

Research he would seldom encourage,
He loved his vision to remain blurred.

Scholars number must not increase,
Lest his importance should decrease.

Male scholars he did not like,
For fair ones he had broad smile.

He was all between his boots and hat,
Soul he couldn’t feel, nor he had,

Humanism he had read in literature,
His heart lacked pity and he, stature.

He couldn’t help, nor could he sympathise,
But frowned well and gave cold advice.

Courtesy was below his chair,
Let others grumble and despair.

Being the boss he was considered wise,
Looked Solomon’s prodigy but fool in disguise.

Inspire he could none, so snubbed all,
Highbrow he was, though lowly-born.

Important as he was, he needn’t be nice,
Fools’ King, lived in a fool’s paradise.

Kite and the String

The sun was soft, light was dim,
Sky was clear in the evening.
Kites were high in the blue,
Alluring to sight was the view.

I too came out with my kite,
Wind helped it and it gained height.
It danced at the whims of the wind,
In the club of pale and the pink.

My lids guarded the flirtatious eyes
Which eagerly chased the swaying kite,
As beloved’s eyes chase the lover
Until he is hard to discover.

At times the kite reeled in the air
As we do when fate does not favour.
In spirit the eyes were with the kite,
In body they could never unite.

What the eyes got was hot delight,
Leaving retina in poor plight.
Same joy we get from life,
When body delights and soul dries.

When the struggle was at its height,
The string became hard and tight.
It was tired of the flight
And wished to detach from the strife.

The measured length had been run,
Darkness had devoured the sun.
The allotted height had been attained,
And fate wished to pull the rein.

As I tugged, the string betrayed the kite,
Breaking all its previous ties.
Does our soul not do the same
When it betrays body in life’s game?

New Nest on a New Perch

I can’t bear to be trailed behind
Like the dust of fleeting time.
Fly I must with light-speed,
Journey is long and time deceives.

I will soar in the space,
Rest is rust, irritating slow pace.
How long can I lie like stone
With stinking moss overgrown?

If all the world is changeable,
Why this body be stable?
Life does not mean to vegetate,
Success braves storms, gulps not opiate.

Speed I must with speeding time,
Though gather nought and all grind.
Let me rein the surging waves
Than to be dust in a living grave.

Man was not born for defeat,
He was created to tame the seas.
What though in the strife he dies,
Torch lit by him will light the skies.

Body that moves at velocity of soul,
Kindles heavens like a meteor.
The brightness we see in the sky,
Is some mass converted into light.

In energy let my body dissolve,
Nowhere, yet everywhere in cosmos.
Schedule I’ll my journey to stars,
Dynamic Self finds earth small.

New heavens my soul will search,
To make a new nest on a new perch.
I’ll discover new spheres in space,
With life and light they would be graced.

Imperfections I’ll leave behind,
In dark space, light I will find.
If Heaven and the Creator are perfect,
Why can’t His image and why can’t this earth?

The Snake and a Sparrow

The night was quiet, wind was dark,
I was in bed and children all;
While children lapped in their dreams,
My wife and I cursed our enemies.

Soon she began to doze, I began to nod,
She slipped in bed and I switched off;
A few minutes had reeled in the dark
When I heard some hissing soft.

Suddenly I heard a subdued twitter,
And then pathetic shrieks were heard;
Shrieks were of a little bird,
Which had now stopped to flutter.

My wife woke up at pity’s noise
And bade me in a tremulous voice,
“Be man, switch on the light,
See if it is a ghost or a bird cries”.

Feeble shrieks had moved my heart,
I switched on the light to help the bird.
My kindness brought a vision before me,
I saw a big snake on the ceiling.

The snake had coiled in the iron ring
That was hanging below the ceiling.
The bird was gripped in snake’s coiling,
It sacrificed itself to give us warning.

The bird’s restless movements stopped,
My wife saw, swooned and dropped.
Snake was black and night was dark,
I was alone to fight the war.

I dragged away my children’s cots
So they be safe in case it falls.
Then I took two long sticks,
Pushed one at its head with a trick.

It coiled round the stick to give a shake,
I severely pushed the other at its tail.
Its trunk furiously began to move,
The dead bird fell when grip was loose.

The bird fell on my hands anon,
It shook me and my balance.
My imbalance gave some painful rest
To the wrestling snake still hard pressed.

My hands were strong, mind was harsh,
I could not spare the devil, by God!
I mustered strength for the final phase,
And crushed it severely for Mercy’s sake.

The pain troubled the snake so hard
That it thought proper to breathe its last.
When it grew cold my wife was warm;
She sobbed, cried and raised an alarm.

I thanked the bird with all my heart
Which shrieked to death to make me alert.
Had I not been kind to it that night,
I would sleep forever with my wife.

Father is Very Sorry

My little angel, my dear son,
I’m sorry for what is done
Since your fault deserved not
Punishment of that sort.