Categories
Poem regret. satisfaction

My Music Teacher.


Sing with a full throat

that is all about

suppress not your voice

sing with a free choice

that was my master’s instruction

he opposed always the reduction

insisted on a fearless singing

his words still ring

as I go back to the years

when I used to be in tears

reluctant to attend his class

he never spoke anything rash

left me  to  engage in a  play

slowly  he pulled me into his  sway

made me listen to the notes  first

joined with him to complete the rest

He taught music   in that manner

hoped, I would lift his banner

I failed to give him that satisfaction

it is too late now to extend any compensation

as he is dead and gone  a decade ago

I have also gone grey  in the go.deekshitar

Categories
crook discipline. foolish Poetry

The Proposed God-man


God manA relative of mine

not one of blood

talks high of himself

thinks he is a God-man

predicts the events of the day

speaks of sasthras  and discipline

preaches many a time with a diligence

teaches most of the time in a manner crazy

the rituals and practices  in direct  focus

with an authority   not ordinary

actually he knows nothing  in general

as he reads not anything in particular

rather knows not to read coherently

commits hundred and one mistakes

while going through the preliminary

leave alone the holy ethics

writes with glaring errors  in  a range

boasts of his wisdom with a pomp

smile do I seeing him talk with such splendour

a crook  he is in every walk with the least tenure.

Categories
foster joy Poetry real song.

My Toy Dad And Mom.


As a young girl I remember

playing  with toys of timber

I had toys of Dad and Mom

named the Dad as Tom

he stood tall  and straight

wore not a shirt so bright

dressed in colours somber

looked also very sober.

The mother looked so cherubic

was exuberant and  very energetic

her attire was very fanciful

red and yellow  checks wonderful

they were my playmates for long

I rushed to them with a song

impregnate with mirth and joy

I trotted to them rather coy

never thought them to be a toy

share with them my dilemma and plight

if I saw the real ones in sight

dashed away in a swift flight

my doll parents listened to me

shared my sorrow and glee

they still remain with me as a treasure

I return to them  that being a  regular feature

my own parents are dead and gone

mymarapachi foster ones would remain even after I am gone.

I