Month: July 2017

Years ago, is it not?
I retrospect.

Travel reverse.
Recall the events of my wedding.

It is a three-day affair
crowded with entertainment.

The customary rituals
share the prominence.

I, from the point of concentration,
watch the sequence in awe.

In the midst of the activities,
the dad shows an immaculate cordiality.

The mother expresses poise.
Her exhaustion is apparent.

Both stand on the porch,
greet people with a namaste

The guests enjoy the delicacies.
Rejoice in the hospitality.

I find excitement in all,
driven by enthusiasm.

The ensemble disperses in spirit
Thoughts flood with pleasant memories.

 

It is one of my many dreams
haunts me for long.

My mind cycles in speed
forward and backwards.

Condemn the desire. They thrust me
where to, I do not know.

Do I want to build a home
huge and modern?

Is it a zealous aspiration to see
the world?

Might be an interest to lead
the community and the state?

Should I hold treasures of
gold and silver?

Is it a trepidation? A trespass
I meander in circles.

A call from within confounds me.
Do not rely on temporal delights.

I turn inwards. Listen in attention.
Work towards a goal, it says.

Serve and work hard.
Mind not the result.

I have to learn. Have to transcend.
Know nobility is hard to achieve.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A smile and a curtsy,
are recognitions.

A word  kind and sweet
is a greet.

A friendly attention
is all harmony.

These are values
wealth cannot buy.

No man is big or small
because of prosperity.

The virtue lies
on the humour.

Men act with insolence
reckoning on the influence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

That of culture
even a difference
creates a  consequence.

An invitation is a subject
the  organising part
discloses the character.

Solicitations from a son
and a daughter is a requisition,
a conventional expression.

A far-flung relative invites a few,
the son visits the rest.
The attitude is unqualified.

Disparity invades.
Discontent permeates.

 

 

 

The passing of the baton
from one to another.

The transition of power
from one to another.

The translation of terms
from one to another,

have to be done with ease
from one to another.

A strain destroys the shift
from one to another.

Care enhances the transformation
from one to another.

 

 

 

An outburst, not uncommon
seen with fear,
shows up with a force,
unable to endure.

The bout swells with fury,
interminable exchanges ensue.
My submission is absolute,
I shudder with a rue.

Goes on and on for a decade,
I remain consumed.
This cannot continue, I ramble
feeling determined.

The following day
another concern.
I establish my impression.
Rebuke without relent.

I throw a bunch of accusations.
He counters,
The conflict angles nasty.
I stand embarrassed.

The disagreement extends.
See no conclusion.
He baffles me. I insist the same tune.
No other solution.

For the moment,
he is reticent.
Let go his anger.
Damn. He is indecent.

 

 

 

 

A rose on a thistle
swings in the wind.
Beckons every other
with salutation and love.

Looked upon as the Queen
the crimson rose blooms
the interwoven petals
seem delicate and tender.

She dances with joy,
I stay apprehensive.
Will she injure herself?
brushing against the stinging claws.

I gaze at her with empathy
exclaim, “Oh, you wonderful
why do you sit on nettles?”
She grins.