Saturday, August 17, 2013

She Awaits

By the dim candle, she sat past midnight,
The window open, out there was her unsteady gaze, then left, now right.
The moor stretched far and wide,
To seem dark and gloomy, hard it tried.
Alas! Such a starry night as it was,
And this unsteady wait for whom she called hers,
Could turn gloom to glee,
And may all joy from this world flee,
The smiles of hers would ever be,
For 'I shall come tonight' had said he.
The night was sinking, she feared,
It seemed that dawn neared.
She sat still though, undaunted,
Agitation on the novelty she flaunted.
It crept to her that the clock struck three,
But soon forgotten, for she saw he.
With haste did she descend the stairway,
And then fast they rode in the summery night of May.
That day, she left her childhood dwellings,
Not to count thousands in her lover's shillings,
But to be with whom she vowed to love eternally,
For whom she sacrificed all that she loved dearly.
Whether she did wrong or right, Let your own self decide,
For eternally in his heart at least, she did reside.

1947

200 years, we've waited long,
200 years, we've been silenced,
200 years the British grew too strong,
200 years ago their wrath commenced.
Today the tricolour flag shall hoist high,
Today the past glory shall slowly revive,
Today in our hands, our power will lie,
Today we shall again strive.
We are now a nation rebuilt
We shall soon be a stronger power,
We are ones, who were built,
We were built by ones who dare not cower.
And this will write our story,
And from today we shan't be smaller
And our struggle will be our glory,
And from this day, each Indian will stand taller.
This is the new India reborn,
This is the struggle of a land for long, torn.

Saturday, August 10, 2013

She

She sat there, struck,
No smile, oh she hadn't the luck,
No tears, too much in shock,
Eyes glaring, hands clutching a rock.
'Twas her only defense,
For now, no one lived, who'd counter the offense.
Ay, now an orphan indeed,
People, what led thee, to this deed?
She is, but a young lass,
A poor one, one of the mass.
Deprived anyways of the luxuries of the rich,
Apt to neglect the worst glitch.
Must her dark world be darkened by a dark past,
She has now seen grave misdoings, their impressions shall last.
Why must her tender heart be shown cruelty,
Why now, must she witness individuality?
Whoever you are, the slayer of her beloved,
Wasn't there compassion that could have moved,
The stone heart of yours to something minutely better,
She too should have died, you should have let her.
What shall she be,
When there is no one to lift her, neither 'she', nor 'he'.

Friday, August 9, 2013

Death Wave

Science, technology, the world knows what you wish us to say,
Technology is the future, the deity of our worship and pray.
You wish and deserve praise right now,
Sorry, but you have only focused on the 'How?'
Pray, ask yourself 'What If's and 'If's,
You run along, pray do notice the cliffs,
The world has long heard, good and evil are the sides of the same coin, and if true,
Learn that you may have evil too.
This world is hung on a fragile thread,
Do play with it, if you wish to be dead.
Listen do listen! The death wave is bound to strike,
It's the sheer fall, after the hike.
Tell, if you are to continue in the same way,
Then we'd be sure to die now, then to stay.
We are cowards, we can't bear to see our own world fall,
When we ourselves, chose its fall.

Thursday, August 8, 2013

My Words, My Lines

The rain, the cloudy sky,
The green, the brimming river flowing by,
The mountains, the whispering wind,
The sounds that lessened.
The concrete jungle, oh where am I?
The birds so quiet, the beasts no longer sigh.
Is this how I should enjoy nature?
Where is her unaffectedness, her stature?
Her serenity, her real self?
I am not sorry, what she did herself,
The wrath of hers is our folly reversed,
What is her sin, for which she is cursed?
I write what I behold, not fantasy, the real deal,
The destruction, the love we peel.
Soon, we shall be left devoid,
What is there, to fill the void?
Nature is nothing, concern long forgotten,
The 'Save Nature' methods outdated and rotten.
Look back, or peek into the future,
Your eyes shall behold, what your actions longed it to be,
Content you shall be when this gift is not to be,
For then there shall be no existence, neither you nor me.

Like A Sapling

I said as a seed, why am I so minute,
I try and try, till I display my shoot,
I wish not to boast, but my little figure has a mind of its own,
As I grow into a sapling, Hoping to be fully grown.
Like the little buds that unfurl,
And every emerging leaf from a curl.
I wish to spread out, Touch others' hearts,
I wish to grow, like plant parts,
And with full glamour, I show my first bud,
The first fruit of my toil and blood.
Then those delicate petals unwrap,
Like a bow atop a gift, a feather in its cap,
A beauty to behold, of splendor and pride,
But soon, withdraws the tide.
And till next time, I wait again,
For though the tide falls, later it gains,
With every branch, every leaf,
I feel a new something growing in me.
I started as a proud seed,
and ended as  humble tree that shall unknowingly lead,
I wish my future, like a tree,
My life noble and respected and free.

I Wish In Me

I wish to succeed, I wish to be the best,
I have my goal set, I know my quest.
There shall be ups and downs and dangers a lot,
Pray none is worse than I could have thought.
I fear, but I shall not let worry prevail,
I have my path set, I know my trail.
I have nothing to lose, as God and I walk abreast,
Life has tough lessons, and I am the kid giving the test.
I have faith in me, the Almighty is with me,
I shall be strong and shall be right, and success shall be,
I wish to shine, I will stand out, as I show the best in me.

Dear History

Dear History, you're so interesting, confusing and muddling, I don't know where to begin,
And oh as much confusing is the end.
I try to make things correct.
but somehow Nehru becomes a dictator,
Louis XVI becomes a protestor.
Martin Luther King was defeated in Waterloo,
Gandhiji cooked and loved spicy stew.
Napoleon rose to power as a military ruler,
( Nothing in this poem could be truly truer).
Oh History! Keep fascinating me!  I shall love to muddle up,
For from my mistakes, I learn to move up.

Moon

Oh dear pretty moon! Why are you so shy?
Don't hide away in those reckless clouds, come out and play.
Don't cower down, let those wings fly,
The night so awaits you, after day.
Do be a dear, shine away,
Let those frisky wooly lambs wander.
The world so awaits you, each day,
Come today, be round and full, or slender and tender.
Look how the kids smile when they see you,
They beg for you when they don't.
Show yourself, take the clue,
Now give us a smile, or the kids won't.
Oh dear pretty moon! Why are you so shy?
Don't hide away in those reckless clouds, come out and play.
Don't cower down, let those wings fly,
The night so awaits you, after day.

Making Of A Masterpiece

The crinkly pages stiffened, the curly edges straightened,
The meaningful words flattered, as the lines lengthened.
The words described joy, sorrow, hatred and love,
The violence of a fire, the peace of a dove.
A genius at work, with his companion,
Scribbling about the agility of a prized stallion.
The crinkly pages stiffened, the curly edges straightened,
The meaningful words flattered, as the lines lengthened.
The pen flew with endless thoughts and expressions,
How people faced stress and depressions.
Word swung in the lamplight,
As Twilight turned to the darkest night.
The crinkly pages stiffened, the curly edges straightened,
The meaningful words flattered, as the lines lengthened.

Himachal

Oh, look! The sun dance on those pretty hills,
Oh, look at the hills' folds and frills!
Sit and enjoy, this God's haven,
Feel free to soar the skies, be a raven.
Be in the laps where God kisses the earth,
Run wild, climb high be in mirth.
Follow your desires, come to Himachal, God's abode,
Come as the secrets of life decode.
Where rivers tumble, the snow glistens,
The water speaks, the peak listens.
The flowers nod, the eagles glide,
The hills smile, where Gods reside.
Be in the laps where God kisses the earth,
Run wild, climb high be in mirth.
Follow your desires, come to Himachal, God's abode,
Come as the secrets of life decode.

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Ruins Of Memories

I stood at the door of the place,
A tear rolling dow my face.

I walked through the age-old building no more,

Sadly remembering the memories it bore.
It was a sweet little room,
Filled with vibrant colours in bloom.
It scented of rose and flower,
It was my castle, my princess tower.
The ruins saw events bot great and small,
The present being the most tragic of all.
For now, my little building bore,
the weight o being no more.
So there I stood, at the door of my place,
A tear rolling down my face.