Categories
Poetry rejoice steadfast.

The Way Back Home


The long drive home

cross  over rivers

a ride over fly- overs

a stop at  the toll

a halt at junctions

a slow down in traffic

a sweep when free

a pleasure in  a quietude

the thoroughfare on one  end

the  serenity at the other

go I with an insatiable drive

I should be home in an hour

my sweet home beckons with a smile

being away by only a few milesdrive back home

the desire jumps out in strength

the love of home is a treasure

it being a great wealth

inexpressible in its delineation

a fascination that clings to me steadfast

I would be there in no time

makes me rejoice with glee.

Categories
delusion Poetry

Noise Pollution —A Delusion


It is a cacophony

deafening terribly

like to lock the ears

wish to run away in fear

keeps on haunting all through

the sound turns one to blue

hapless and hopeless I stand

unable to move out from the band

others enjoy the din to the full

noise has become a way of life

the honk, the blare, the blast

all immerse the environ fast

term it noise pollution

anyhow it is a delusion.cacophony

Categories
flow glow likewise Poetry

Likewise The Device,


deviceLikewise, it has been so

all the more in the go

edgewise it happens to be so

could come with a blow

energise  with a flow

could you say no

digitalise with a know

as on with a toe

the device turns on in slow

finally switches on with a glow.

Categories
grace place. Poetry tomorrow yesterday

The Days In Place.


daysIt is a different day

that too of all the days

could be today

might be yesterday

a day before yesterday

a day after  of all days

as I feel all days

assign to varied ways

they pass with a grace

each one has no trace

they seem to phase

come and strike the face

well, that is how it is in a chase

forces everyone to race

keeps them mostly in a daze

while the nights are in  a haze

the sun rises with its bright rays

more or less it happens in all places.

Categories
matter. Poetry song thorn

LIfe IS Full.


Life seems to be full

roses and dahlias in all

beautiful so far and long

thorns  exist no wrong.

Life seems to be full

apples and oranges in all

sweet  so far and long

bitterness found no wrong.

Life seems to be full

incidents  and happenings in all

genuine so far and long

deceit  is seen through nothing wrong.

That be life in full

sweet and sour in all

sincere and insincere  so far and long

elusive perhaps nothing wrong.

Life mixes and churns

go on and off without a burn

should we not turn?

nay, let us learn.

Life teaches in a song

the good and bad for long

pay attention with a hope

endurance is  the scope.bed of roses

Categories
Looks Poetry Sly

The Aspirations


The reach is too high

perched upon the sky

yet attempt, a try

not with a shy

could see the looks sly

cast around with a pry

ignore says the mind

hesitates the heart in a bind

the mind overcomes with a find

treachery halts one to a grind

shun it and go ahead in the stride.treachery

Categories
hell noise Poetry sneak

The Weeks And Years


Five days in  a week

I go  without a sneak

two more days of the week

make me sneak.

I sniff and smell a lot

nothing much to give a thought

I go about in a sort

casting on the way, not a doubt.

The seven days  pass as such

I move about in a stretch

I cross the length and breadth

almost with great strength.

Years have  rolled on as well

the clocks continue to strike the bell

noise has rocked like hell

as I look at my life through a shell.impfrswpzropnvhpuplr

Categories
emancipation empowerment Poetry

The Woman Power– A Satirical Joke.


The gender divides

a man from a  woman

he is set to be powerful1369019576

invasive and extensive

she is designed to be fragile

internally and externally

a ruggedness is seen in him

as many sport with a moustache

a voice so gruff and  firm

make him a strong personality

lack all these the woman

with a fairness in skin

soft and small in build

speaks low and with charm

turn her into a weak being in all.

Born as a girl in the Indian families

controlled by the male throughout

initially the father with authority

along with the brothers in force

she crosses her childhood

and girlhood in fear almost

eyes flutter and her heart trembles

if she sees a stranger in front

learns with a diligence

as her brothers flaunt and spoil

achieves a lot academically

excels in extracurricular as well

yet lives in the shadow

where the patriarchal element dominates.

Out of her  college she enters life different

seeks a job in all earnest

the family is otherwise busy

hunts for a prospective alliance

soon they check the most competitive

rush her to the wedlock

before she could breathe independently

another tie up  being for the whole life

comes into existence  quite easily

she succumbs to the new ways

in the milieu loses herself  all too quick.

The wedding and after is another milestone

she has to bear the yoke  nonchalantly

with patience utmost  and  endurance  exact

her head has to nod up and down

no matter what be the circumstance

as the right to  left move is forbidden

lives she like a rock hit by many a tide

rash and harsh most times

pleasant and slow on occasions

her hair grows grey as  the years advance

looks she different with a spectacle

that dances on the tip of her nose

her memory goes down the lane

as she wraps the saree around her shoulders.

The  woman you see now is emancipated or strong

empowered or employed   as could be

this be her version all too much the same

might be with a slight variation

be she a working woman or a household dame

being one of a little care to the apparent appearance

the one with   a job has to dress up well

drape a starched saree around and clothes ironed

while her counterpart one who stays at home

pays less attention in her dress

wears anything that comes to her hand

matching or matchless never her concern

she ties her air into a tiny knot

tucks her saree a little up

not to disturb her in the activities

moves about with a mindless   stroll

her look out primarily being her children

and to an extent her husband

who incidentally wields a power

with an air of supremacy  in square

know not from where it comes.

The case being so even in the latest days

how could a female expect an equality

how could she override the male

be her father, brother, husband

could be her son also in the future

who emerges from her  and rises above her

the qualification being a man all the more

nothing other than

could out beat her

could ride past her even in a close shave

intelligence, tact  and skill, virtuosity

never could she be outsmarted

but unfortunately, she  is bent

and compelled to bite the dust.

“I’m blogging for the India Today Woman Summit 2015 #WomenPower activity at BlogAdda.”

Categories
Looks Poetry strange

The Eyes Emit


It is a shot

not from the gun

did you imagine so?

nay not, my dear.

It is venom

not from the python

did you imagine so?

nay not, my dear.

It is a terrible bite

not by the dog

did you imagine so?

nay not, my dear.

It is an evil look

almost from the blood-related

did not you imagine so?

why not, my dear?

Looks hurt much

more than the guns

much more than venom

up and above the dog bite.

The scar the eyes inflict

goes deep beyond layers

tears and rips apart, my dearToys 007

sucks the life out beyond imagination

Categories
agnostic convention desire Poetry

The Migration


Far away from the roots

away from the origin

one finds a desolation

a sort of disillusion

yet man is restless

moves from one place to another

from one region to the other

mindless of his difficulties

the desire to earn  is  all the more

suppresses the other fancies even so

he migrates across with a will

succeed he might  in the course

nevertheless loses his  identity

I might sound orthodox on the go

the feel I have towards it is so

might be wrong on the  premise

for me it proves to be amiss

well. that be the  individual idea

I am too far from the modern world

primitive  as a relic  all too much in style

nor I propose to impose my ideas

or strike with a force  on the convention

each one has his say in the world

my voice is one from the wilderness

mostly goes unheard  with no effect

yet I express my feel with a gusto

agnostic migrationmight be to most.

it is but the truth in real