Monthly Archives: August 2011

The Signboard.

A signboard over there,

Stands  in the thorough fare,

Pointing to the directions  ,

With meticulous care.


The passers move about ,

Not paying heed without doubt,

Taking on their own  float,

Amidst the deafening shout.



The board is in a  sullen solitude,

Performing  its duty  in an aptitude,

Withstanding the commotion with fortitude,

Least expecting a fruitful gratitude.



Time tested rules get lost,

While materialistic pursuit overtakes thought,

Everything flares up in a shot,

As none assume   the principled slot.



Undue irreverence to doctrines 

Unnatural turn  of tailspin,

Unwanted alliance to illegitimate wins.

Cause a senseless  down spins.


Sign board is a pointer,

A  follow-up is a rejoinder,

Principles provide a frontier,

A solemn adherence grants a protector..








A Little Thought

Can we not think about others?

Can we not feel for others?

Can we not help others?

Can we not love others?

Can we not ,can we not?

The heart cries with a vibrance.



Is it not sad to see a flower wither?

Is it not painful to look at  a tree  rot?

Is it not desperate to view a parched earth?

Is it not wrenching to watch an animal suffer?

Is it not frustrating to  witness a man die?

Is it not , is it not?

The heart wails with despair.



Do everyone feel the same manner?

Do all experience the same way?

Do most pass  through  same  passage?

Do  the majority go through the cycle?

Do they ,do they?

The heart mourns in anguish



A little consideration takes you a long way,

A little  patience leads you to  happiness,

A little feeling brings in joy

A little  love endorses a loveliness,

A little , A little,

The mind cheers up the heart.






A Blow ,A Strike, A Fall

Heard a smashing noise ,

A violent slash  it was,

Thud ,thud it sounded,

Lo , there was a bang,

A loud squeak emanated,

A sharp shriek was heard,

There was a blast,

A fall ,a collapse resulted,

The beautiful tree came down,

It tumbled flat on the ground,

A sordid sight indeed!

A ghastly scenario  really!

A terrible blow truly!

A vicious strike exactly!

Finally a miserable fall absolute.



That which stood royal an hour ago,

Lies down biting the dust  poorly now,

That which yielded fruits and nuts,

Is a mound of rubbish  at present,

That which gave shade and strength,

Relays  a  heap of broken twigs  now,

That which was a cynosure to all eyes,

Seems like an eyesore now,

That which was a thing of beauty,

Looks like an empty distraction now,

Illustrating  the transitoriness,

Underlining the fleeting  of life,

Denoting the impermanence,

 Yes, anything born has to die.  





Ode To Chettinad

It is  a grand place forsaken ,

Countered by hot and arid weather,

A glimpse of the ruins lying in mounds,

Grips the heart to an untold  melancholic sound..



The ornate and frescoes lay exposed, 

Scorching sun and dusty wind damage,

Intermittent rains and unmindful use destroy,

The massive structures look weird and poor like a broken toy.



The lovely porches and patios,

Once avenues of hospitality and gaiety

Stand  as remnants of past glory,

Covered with mites and  insects in a hurry.



The courtyards long and extensive,

Once a hotspot of revelry and weddings,

Remain as ghosts of their  self in hay days,

Encouraging a growth of moss and shrubs in a lay.



The doors with elaborate designs,

Speak volumes of the happenings  ,

Now stay shut under lock and key,

Effacing the memories of the mighty deed in a flee.


The huge heavy gigantic keys,

Made a clatter   while opening the doors,

Now rarely seen as there are none,

Wishing to get in and out  for fun.



The pillars of wood and stone,

Exhibit colours blue ,brown and black,

Seem to talk about the  rich heritage,

In a tone mild succumbing to the  ravage.


The locked mansions  remain in dark,

They hold large wealth behind the doors,

Enticing the thugs to loot the bounty

Leaving the rightful owner in penury.



The land is a home to philanthropists

Its speciality is  food and culture,

The marvellous  relics are now ruins,

Casting a disenchantment and despair fluent.









Is It Possible?

Put your  hands in the  glowing fire,

Place your  feet in the freezing ice,

 Relax yourself   over a bed of thorns,

 Walk  in ease through a slippery plain,

 Sit comfortably  on a heap of rubbish,

Eat with content   food without taste

 Drink fondly  a nectar bitter,

See lovingly a picture frightful.

Hear  unswervingly  a sound blaring,

Listen attentively  to talk senseless,

 Read intensely a story terrible,

Undertake  effortlessly a journey  tiring,

Is it possible?

Keep me Posted.




Stealthy Sly

Cats are known for stealth,

In silence they execute,

Without any sign of threat,

They undertake  a looting,

As much as in a hush.



Fox exhibit slyness,

In quietness they introduce,

With little idea of doubt,

Enacting a tricky adventure,

More so in a discreet try.


Stealth and sly are like two eyes,

The one finds a subdued sight,

While the other notes a confused  scene,

Both lead to an undisciplined  sphere,

Rendering a farcical  furtive destination.


Stealthy sly is a risk pernicious,

Revealing a scare of great magnitude,

Hurting the vulnerable with a strong blow,

Mostly men commit such harm in talk and speech,

As we all know words are  more pricking than thorns.







Looking For A Shore – Gold

Ships in a turbulent sea get tossed,

 As the storm blows fiercely,

Making the vessel  tumble  in a fold,

Panic and commotion rake it violently,

Cries and screams add to the uneasy cold.



Soon as a wink it drifts to the shore,

Tides and waves push it to a place,

The sandy stretch is seen in the fore,

It appears like a lovely  ornated lace,

A sign of relief replaces the apprehensive roar,

As the ship embarks on a safe shore.




Shore is a safe haven,

To a distressed sailor,

Gold is a security proven,

To a fleeced  investor,

Security is a  blissful heaven,

Foolish risk  is  a chronic detractor.