Out in the air
crawls the bear
with no fear
comes from the rear
grunts and mumbles
leaves without a fumble
knew not where to go
walks a little slow
turns this way and that way
sees the sun’s rays
thence the people around
retreats jungle bound
Tag: Air
A Picture Of Winter
Writing Has a Reference
The writing has a value great
be it a fiction or poetry whatever it be
anything put in words on paper
commands a respect and means truth.
Speak one can anything under the sun
talking high of that and this
looking nowhere else around
praising and bemoaning at the same time.
The basis of the eloquence be of strength
lively it goes with the oration
sprinkled with anecdotes real and false
heightened by way of fiery talk.
There be a clear distinction in writing
as it holds a meritorious significance
nothing could be set in black and white
without the fundamentals being right.
Words spoken flies in the air
words written hold waters forever
that be the reason all the while
taking writing as a sober reference.
The Resonance.
Live it be in the air
that of music to share
keeping the eyes closed
heard the resonating flow
forgetting the sounds around
that be of the vendor in a round
lending no ear to the milkman
who brings home milk in a big can
turning deaf to the chauffeur
who gets paid the most from my coffer
I sit unperturbed and in peace
hearing the music flowing through the trees
sat I for long with eyes closed and hands folded
as though it is an enigma that got slowly rolled.
The December Morning
A beautiful morning it is
chill and breezy all it is
with the whiff of fresh air
comes the dawn all fair
the trees bow down as the wind blows north
they rise up with the wind blowing south
the oscillation gives a soft cajole
leaving us refreshed on the whole
then come the birds that chatter with glee
flocking with their kin on a tree
with that there heralds children’s voices
rushing out to play in the place of their choices
that be the cold December morning
which throws out a joyful glistening
A Less Known Travel
Travelling with an enthusiasm
seeking adventure all throughout
went up a dense forest
situated on a hill little away
where wild animals freely roam.
With the desire to see them
my friend and I jumped into a jeep
drove through the entire forest
going to each nook and corner
around the lakes that lay full
hoping to see the animals loitering about.
Having seen many of them in the zoo
behind the cages morose and sombre
wanted to see them free and at liberty
nestling in the forests thick
nudging each other while walking lazily.
Waiting for long time atop the hills
finding no sign of the animals
raised the engine to mak a move.
Finally to our delight and alarm at the same time
saw a roaring lion shaking its mane audaciously
marching royally towards us in a stately walk.
Negotiating the turn carefully we made our way
along the road driving hastily in a hurry
On our way came across many other friends mild
the giraffe, zebra and the monkeys
lying in the pathway breathing the fresh air
and munching the green leaves in a relaxed notion.
The Strife
A woman in her mid forties
was getting back to her country.
had no experience in air travel
came to me for help in finding the gates
and fulfilling the other formalities
She took to me well and came with me
She taking me as a sister
came out with her story bitter.
full of pain and tough experience.
Listening to her I got moved and tense.
She had lost her husband early in life
and with literally no money in hand underwent a strife
in bringing up and educating her sons
They are in their high school now
She is repatriating to the country of her birth.
Having completed her formalities in a dearth
and spent a reasonable amount in the procedure
anticipating a quick acceptance in a short tenure
My heart went out to her all the more
wishing her all the best in the fore
I bade her farewell as we reached our destination.
The world abounds with people of needs
who sustain and survive with minced feeds.
The mango tree is fluttering cheerfully in the garden.
The guava tree stands solemnly grim with a heavy burden.
A whiff of air blows all of a sudden.
The treesdangle vigorously with fruits heavily laden.
The fall of little mangoes makes the heart sadden.
The ripe yellow guavas come down in dozens.
The mango and guava are a subtle reference
to the world’s impermanence.
There was a bang next door.
Other things flew out of the door.
Certain others flew in a soar.
Every other thing was in fours.
The shrieks ranted the air.
The shouts lay everything bare.
There was nothing to share.
There was no one to care.
It was a terrible blare.
“It is you ,you”, accused a voice in anger
“Not me, me,”sobbed the other in a whisper.
The dialogue was converted into a slander.
The exchange was disgracefully vulgar.
The incident did not propose a healthy augur.
The storm died down with an intermittent intervention.
The intrusion became a hapless, weak contravention.
The go back would be a shameful digression.
A physical abjure would have been a better proposition.
Alas! the wordy abuse was an incisive demonstration.