Questions on quality of existence

Standing at the watershed, today looking forward
not so far away into the future,
I can see the river of life
take a plunge in to the unknown-
death, life after death, end or
new beginning who knows?
One thing is certain, I will not exist
As I have in this form, ever-changing as it is,
from that moment onwards.
Standing here at the watershed, today looking backward
Over the twists and turns
That the river of life has taken,
How would you evaluate my existence?
Am I a sum total of my achievements, successes?
Or am I a sum total of my failures?
The sum total of my efforts?
What I have done for myself?
What I have done for others?

Combat of Shadows: Mating Call

Come let's shed the trappings of civilisation

The cocoons of respectability

And met in the arena of shadows

When fireflies glow with love.

Just two combatants

You and me, and let the bodies armed

With the Braille of love strain

To overcome each other in a combat

Neither of us win

or lose.

Let the minds soar

To a dizzying zenith

Where novas are born

Life so near death

And then fall caressing the clouds

Back to their vapid cages.

Desiderata for my daughter

You have been granted
a mind of your own,
a maturity beyond your years
and beauty.
Don’t let these divine gifts cloud your vision.
Let not your beauty
be an end or an asset,
it is indeed a mere chance,
a chromosomal lottery and
the credit is not yours but that of a forgotten ancestor.
Let your mind be free, assimilate all the good that there is in this world.
What you achieve is immaterial,
what portion of your potential
you have realised is important.
Where do we start the A B C of life,
that we as parents can equip you with, to live a meaningful life?

A
Always be on time.
The watch on your wrist
is not an ornament,
but a tool to subjugate
the fleeting minutes
and achieve what you want most.
If you plan to be on time you will be late.
Plan to be early and you will surely be on time.

B
Be honest to yourself
and you are but human.
Books lead you to a larger world,
the breadth of human experience,
thought and action.
They can help you to learn,
to pass a tedious hour,
to prepare for tomorrow,
to forget a sad today.
Read as much as you can,
for knowledge is power.

C
Compromise not what you consider important,
what you cherish.
Consider your options
before you commit.
If you commit ,do it.
Try not to live on credit.
Use it only when you must.

D
Do what you must do
to achieve your life’s goals,
what is close to your heart.
Have a dream. Dream,
for dreams ask people to strive for something better.
If something disagreeable
has to be done, do it.
Waiting won’t take it away or
lessen the negative feeling.

E
Every day is a tally sheet.
Did you improve, learn, gather
something new today?
Else it is lost, just another milestone
gone by in a blur.
Exercise your body and mind.
After all, your head needs a strong neck and shoulders to support it.

F
First things must be done first.
What’s first, depends on
what you want out of life.
One must have a few friends
one can trust,
to share both tears and laughter.
Without friends life is quite barren.
Friendship means
learning to accept a person
as he or she is and
not what you want them to be.
So, choose your friends with care,
once chosen, care for them.

G
Goodness is always there,
even in the darkest hour.
Search for it.
God is manifest in all
goodness of the human spirit.
All religions say it,
you better believe in it.

H
Hope is as perennial as grass;
God ensures a sunrise
after the darkest of nights.
Have faith on yourself and your abilities
Hope sustains you in crisis.
Hope and work for a better tomorrow.


I
I, perpendicular pronoun
is important
but more important is ‘we’.
Look beyond yourself
at the whole wide world of people;
some have more but
many more have much , much less.
Be thankful for the smallest pleasure that life has to offer.
They don’t cost anything.
Important you are for your parents
indispensable you are not for this world.
Lessen your I to a point where it does not blind you
but never, never let it become ‘i’.

J
Jealousy is a corrosive acid, beware.
It can burn you and all around. Learn to appreciate
and let it spur you to greater achievements.
Joy is as natural
as pain, try to be happy.
One does not need anything to be happy,
you can choose to be happy.

K
Kindness lifts a human
and brings him nearer God.
Never lose it or you are a machine.

L
Love is a power more potent
than any other feeling or force.
Even animals sense it.
People will love you
when your aura is pure and
that will bring more love and affection.
Love cannot have pre-conditions.
We love you because you are YOU
and not because you are perfect,

M
Men are half of God’s creation.
You will need one to live life.
So choose carefully the man
you want to spend your whole life with.
Music is a divine gift bestowed upon you.
It can lift a person
from the depths of sorrow
to the peaks of joy.
Keep music alive in your heart.
Money is not everything, but it’s important.
It smoothens the path of life.
Spend only what you can afford,
but also save for a day when you may need it.

N
‘No’ is a word you have to use sometimes,
or people will use you.
Use ‘no’ to maintain your priorities, carefully.

O...
O...is a circle. It means,
everything must come around.
What you do will come back to you.
It is also a mouth open in wonder.
Never lose your sense of wonder.
There is so much in this world to wonder about,
to marvel at-a tiny flower, myriad of stars,
birdsong at night, a child’s pure laughter,
golden sunsets, the sea crashing on the beach,
sunrise on a misty morning, a rainbow.

P
Pay your dues to society, to people.
Pleasure is as natural as pain.
Do not shrink from pleasure;
pamper yourself once in a while.
You deserve it.
Politeness does not cost a paisa
- but it pays back.
Be polite to people, but do not overdo it.
Plan your work, it will make the work easier.

Q
Question the status quo, the present
and that will open new vistas.
Question yourself often, Is it right?
The answers are invariably there in your mind.

R
Respect yourself,
and the counsel of elders.
Remember names,
for names lead to people;
people lead to relationships.
Remember good times and
they will sustain you through bad.
Rest is as natural as work.

S
Sleep comes easily
when the mind is free.
Free your mind at the end of each day, meditate.
Slowly recount what you have done, search
for the good. Do not shrink
if you see something bad.
Save that memory
and the act will not be repeated .
Savour every moment, smile.

T
Trust yourself.
For others to trust you,
you must keep your word and promises every time .
Friendship and all relations are built on
trust.

U
yoU can change the world
in whatever way, small or big,
the power is in you.

V
Vivacious means full of life, vigour,
lively. You are, keep it that way

W
Why, what, when, who and how
are wonderful servants
for the mind to explore the world,
it’s truths, it’s expanse or minuteness,
everything in and around you

X,
eXpand the horizons of your mind,
eXperience life in its fullness,
eXamine yourself,
eXplore the possibilities
you are eXtraordinary.

Y
You are unique, nobody can create another.
Your actions therefore must reflect that.
Use your mind, it again is unique.

Z
Zed, has a tone of finality,
it means everything must come to an end.
Zeal makes for a good beginning.
If you must do something
do it with zeal.
---------------------
These are what we feel.
You can choose, what you like.

Inchoate Vision 2013, seen in 1999

 Inchoate Vision 2013, seen in 1999

Small house, where the air is still clean.
Comfortable by the standards of
'sai itna dijiye....',
With something left for sundowners
With old friends.
At least one climb above the snowline,
Before the salt overtakes the pepper.
Being accepted as I am, warts and all
By the only child, then an ‘I am OK’ adult
Old wife by the side, old rocking chair
Summer time chatter of grandchildren
Accepted as an expert, in the chosen field,
And a good teacher.
A book on management, perhaps
A book of poems definitely.
Sepia toned, fading photographs,
Of good times gone by, on the walls;
Much thumbed books on the shelves.


Telephone to remain connected,
computer to gaze at cyberspace.
New bicycle to loosen the stiffening joints,
young dog to walk the constitutionals


Three trees in the courtyard, a neem,
a mango and a guava to tempt
the passing schoolboys and
teach them something about life.
Death in my old dressing gown, in my own bed
Sudden, unaided and alone.
Release.
--x--
* Old Hindi couplet by Surdas,” Sai, itna dijiye, jame kutum samaye, mai bhukha na rahoon, sadhu na bhukha jai”: "God, give me only so much.., so that I and my family do not go hungry, nor the mendicant sadhu who come to my door."

Update 2015 0n Vision 2013!

Climbed over the snowline, 

drove to biking nirvana

salt has long overtaken the pepper

book on management now nearing a decade

book on poems, ready and waiting

good teacher, well, may be, yes

quite a few books waiting to be read

no grandchildren yet

the fruit trees can wait to grow 

for the courtyard 

and pictures on the walls, well

waiting for the walls

of the house, still a dream

rocking chair- still a few years away

the age of anecdotage a little distant

some oil still left in the lamp

to light few more lamps

some more miles to go.

Death of friends

To Satyen

The patient smile,

the slightly chipped front tooth

the placid face, smiling,

a tinge of self-deprecation.

Standing in repose, leaning to one side,

The soft voice, undemanding nature,

the undemonstrative affection –

memories remain of the times

spent together, good and bad

happy and sad.

Someone summed up your forty-four years,

” …..came in quietly

worked silently for two decades,

left just as quietly, few ripples…”.

Only the tidal wave of shock,

The tsunami of tears that followed

And devastated the small family

So contented till yesterday.

Farewell, Somu

What do you say in farewell,

when you've shared-the first smoke and myriads later,

joys and discoveries of adolescence

shenanigans from Gaya to Goa, Chiraiyatar to Chinchpokli

books, meals, memories,

the first job,

the first motorcycle

the rigours of professional education

cups of chai and more potent brews.

His talent was unbounded, limited by his moods,

energy boundless, vision sweeping

repertoire ranging from tom jones to bhupen hazarika ( attested in person)

moods mercurial, voice mesmerizing

heart as big as a stadium (in his own words)

urge to embrace life in a bear hug

you could be angry at him, but not leave him

admire his talent, be mad at his fickleness

but never, ever forget him.

What can you say about a man

who loved and lived life king-size

and reveled in it

Farewell Somu, dear friend

may you compose and sing many more songs,

wherever large hearts take rest

and may your soul find peace.

Farewell.

To Joideb

It was toil all the way for you

Starting form adolescence

Through youth to middle age.

Everything that came your way

Was a result of dedication and toil,

But delayed.

Did that make you a cynic- never!

Did that account for your wry smile?

Just when you thought

“Now is the time to relax

to see the children flowering

the career to unfold

the toil to be rewarded”;

the grim reaper took you away.

Forty seven is no age to die

Of chicken pox

In the twenty first century!

Why smoke?

It's a pleasure, pure and personal
Not dependant on anyone for it
Easily available
Frowned upon, but tolerated
Gives an adrenaline start to the day
To jump-start the flaccid and tired nerves
Finale to food, complement to a drink or two
Friend of frenzied moments
Solace for the blues
Nothing beats the post-coital smoke-
Catecholamines and nicotine are a potent upper.
From the first puff and paroxysm of cough
From young, untainted lungs in protest
To, million cigarettes later
Paroxysms of cough
From tar sodden lungs of middle age
Each smoke was worth it.
Thank you Sir Walter Raleigh
For introducing us
To the infernal weed!

Woman 3: Metamorphosis

That stunted mango tree near my window
Through whose branches, green tinted
Sun rays snatch away the last dregs
Of the divine opiate- sleep;
I had some enmity with it somewhere.
As it stood forlorn against the green
At a cursory glance, I had labeled it
- sterile, barren, woman past her prime.
One night came a fairy with her wand- Summer.
Little buds peeped, little leaves followed
And rather prematurely ( it seemed)
Came the fruits.
Now the little tree stands
Like a brazen little woman
Flaunting her bounties at me.

Woman 2

The sea was a woman
Dark, wanton and beckoning.
Her breath fanned me
And her pulse rose and fell
With metronomic regularity
On the beach.
Under the canopy of stars
We had united in a thrashing frenzy
On a dark, breezy night
Watched by the sly, old voyeur
- The Goan moon.
I felt her through every pore of my being.
Wit exhausted limbs
And cooled fever
I had flopped back on the sand
And lit a cigarette

Woman 1: From here to eternity

Woman
Eternal woman
Eternal mystery
Since the dawn of creation
You are my mate
And I always
An intrepid explorer
Of the dark secrets
Enfolded in the lush curves of your body
Yet I have not taken
More than a few hesitant steps
In to the labyrinth of your mind!

Stigma

A poet, successful or not
Must bear a stigma.
This blighted creature
must see life differently,
from the rest of mankind,
in a manner divergent,
with a view that is his own,
and put it on paper, he must
however prosaic it may be.
An object of suspicion, a tinge of distrust,
a stigma, that is his cross.

Abode of Justice

Teeming with people-
Mostly poor, seeking elusive justice.
Lawyers-vultures in their black and white plumage
The fat ones, gorged on their fill of human misery
Scrawny ones- crows sweating, cackling,
Waiting for their turn at the carcass.
Typist- busy woodpeckers
Pecking away at their dilapidated Remingtons.
Clerks- busy sparrows chattering, forever
Rushing, to and fro, foraging for lost papers,
That will never be found nor the justice that lies strewn
Or buried with these papers.
Notary public- grave mynah, head cocked,
Willing to vouch for the vilest untruth
on your behalf, for a fee.
The abode of justice itself,
Dark, musty, dank with the stench of sweat and
Bidi smoke, walls besmirched by countless paan -chewers.
The colour on the walls, appropriately red
Is justice bleeding, haemorrhaging,
Dying a slow death.

Karma on two wheels

you journey through life on two wheels
of future and the past,
the equilibrium always unstable.
the front wheel takes you towards future,
where you want to be.
the past, the rear wheel
always behind,
but nevertheless there propelling you.
your mortal body and the frame
connects the past and the future.
your actions, the engine, your present
drives you, carrying
your karma on two wheels
from the past
through the present
in to your future.
future is not entirely for you to choose.
no matter what where you steer
the past, the rear wheel
decides where and how far
you go.

I’ll never be young again

The title is borrowed, I know,
[Daphne du Maurier, to be precise]
but somebody, in fact many
must have felt this way before.
When any mushy love story
makes you sad and you hum again,
the songs you had sung, hummed
or whistled two decades back.
Peer near the mirror and detect
the crow’s feet at the corners of your eyes,
the insubordinate grey hairs
that refuse to lie low. Somewhere
dies the sixteen-year-old in you,
and in its place is born
a tired beast of burden
that keeps turning the treadmill
on creaking joints, protesting bearings
and the path changes from a line to a circle

Killing me softly

An expert cartographer
you find the borders
of my reservoir of endurance,
pinpoint the limits
of endurable anguish.
A toreador,you
show the red flag
and goad me to anger,
to irrational behaviour.
A sorceress
you know where to stick the pins
on the voodoo doll and
where it hurts most
where the the pain lingers .
Killing me softly with your words

Feelings

Regret
Amidst the vast ocean
Of ignorance
I could only create an archipelago
Of tiny atolls, barely above the water.
Wish I could create an island
Where I could stand and say
There are none to dispute
my authority.




Hope, revisited
Hope rises
Like a guardian phoenix
From the slow burning fires
Of daily strife,
Tomorrow is another day…..




Anger
Anger unrolls like a red mist,
Hot, raw, intense and insensible
From the primordial swamp of unreason
By the urgings of the serpent brain
Perceiving threats, to existence or self-esteem
Where there are none.
The mind rationalises the catharsis
Intellect condemns the outburst
Ends in contrition, but
Are the lessons learnt?




Lust
Born in the mind
Surging to the loins
Galvanising testosterone surge
Like an electric charge
Exhilarating in release
Seeking to be unbridled, but
Governed by the rules
Of civilised society
Frustrated sometimes, but under control.




Disgust
Disgust spills out, foul bile
From the soul
Witnessing corruption that touches every moment,
Every day, every aspect of our lives
And sneers at our face.
The corrupt hold sway and
The law-abiding, tax-paying citizen
Grovel and unwillingly pay for
What is their due




Torpor
The welcome numbness
That comes after gorging
On a Sunday lunch
And the short lived, unfeeling bliss of
The post-lunch cigarette.
**-**

Confessions of a middle-aged student

The urge to learn,
stemming from inadequacy felt,
battling with inhibitions
is probably hesitant.


Inhibitions prompted
when the salt-and-pepper
is by the green youth confronted.


Inhibitions come to the fore
and the drudgery of two decades tells
on the tired, rusted
and atrophied grey cells.


The old grey cells do strive
to move, to gather speed
against inertia, to come alive.


Add to that a dash
of the loneliness
of middle age in a youthful crowd;
memories of home
the company, comfort and warmth,
remember and sigh aloud;
and may be,a unaccustomed tear
the mind does a see-saw
between hope and despair.

The complete man

You stand out, so tall
Gallant, hard and yet
Soft and childlike.
Touching the mother figure
Passing on a little warmth
Clutching the child and
Sharing a little understanding.
Towering over the boardroom,
Hard decisions and adoring glances.
Your suit does not gather creases
Nor does your brow.
Pensive you stand, your patrician profile
Softened by the synthetic sunset.
Bet, you haven’t spent a night
Awake with worry, when
The thermometer does not show
What you want to see
And the little child well;
Wasted a day trying
To revive the dead telephone;
To get a gas cylinder,
Tried to solve a problem
Of algebra, long forgotten,
When the fat file lurks in your briefcase,
Changed a flat tyre.
Complete man-
You are the product
Of the copywriter’s fervent imagination.
Come, meet
The middle-aged, middle class man
Who buys the suits and dreams
You help to sell.

Death and dying

Death is academic;
If distant, a mere number
If near, a momentary stillness
A sigh, may be a few tears
So hard to come by.
Then back to the grind-
The business of living on.
Dying is personal.
It is all about pain
Pinprick of needles
Drips and injections
Myriad of test and counts, with
Unpronounceable names and
Unaffordable medicines
The gloating, knowing looks of others
The embarrassment of nakedness,
Of constant dependence
Inability to control your sphincter
The ebbing of life, draining away
Of pain, pain and more pain
And relief from pain - death
At best, sudden, unaided and alone.

Combat of Shadows: Mating Call

Come let's shed the trappings of civilisation
The cocoons of respectability
And meet in the arena of shadows
When fireflies glow with love.
Just two combatants
You and me, and let the bodies armed
With the Braille of love strain
To overcome each other in a combat
Neither of us win
or lose.
Let the minds soar
To a dizzying zenith
Where novas are born
Life so near death
And then fall caressing the clouds

Cactus Flower

Tired of planting exotic plants
And watching them wither
Leaving my garden barren
I had planted a tiny cactus
In a corner
and the night had cried with me
Nourished by the tears and the dew
The cactus thrived
On a summer dawn
Came a tiny pink bud
I sit on a lonely vigil, waiting
For my cactus flower to bloom.