I happen to be a Scorpio,
that much-viled and slandered Zodiac member
So this is in defence of all beings born
from 23rd October to 21st November.
I am a Halloween child myself;
they say I must be psychically gifted.
But I’m yet to converse with spirits enigmatic
Though when I talk to friends, spirits are lifted!
Every Scorpio will agree with me when I say
We are often the target of much malign
Accused of being materialistic and manipulative…
Or the most vicious and vindictive Zodiac sign.
I wonder how others refuse to acknowledge
How magnetically charming we can be
How intellectually advanced and intuitive…
And how extremely successful socially!
Why do they forget that we are emotional too?
Not like the cold cruel creatures we are named after
That we, too, have a great sense of wit and humour
And can light up the room with our laughter!
Scorpios may be vengeful sometimes, but very few people aren’t…
Its tough to suffer injustice quietly every time…
And I don’t see why its only us who should be blamed
For every passionate or jealous crime!
Scorpios are intensely loyal
and will go to the ends of the earth for a friend
You’re really lucky to be one or know one…
Scorpios always a helping hand lend.
I could go on and on about Scorpios
But I’m sure other Signs also have their side of the story
So I’ll sign off now, with just this observation…
Scorpios always arrive and depart in a blaze of glory!
I cast about my pensive mind…
for something to compose a poem on;
but not a single topic did I find…
Not one bright idea agreed to dawn!
I’m supposed to be studying right now
Instead of whiling away time…
But I’ve studied over and over again… and how!
So I’ve every right to think of a rhyme.
So I chewed the end of my pen…
Unhygienic and repulsive though it is.
Sure I’d think of something and then,
I’d write paeans to it with elan and fizz.
Every topic seemed to be too mundane,
So boring, done-to-death and cliched,
My interest began to gradually wane,
and my enthusiasm slowly fade…
How I hate writer’s block!!!
If only it would cease to exist…
Or may be I need a key to my mind’s lock,
To clear away the cobwebs and mist.
Butterflies maybe? No, too childish…
Futility of war? No, too high-brow for me…
Pollution causing death of animals and fish?
Hmm what about Love and Honesty?
May be I should pick on human passion,
Hatred, jealousy and anger, all causing crime…
But those are so out of fashion
and I don’t want to read like a mime.
Dear me! My poem is complete, I realize…
20 minutes it took of free-doodling imagination.
My poems finally complete under this guise…
Though ideally I should get back to Triple Integration!
There exists a country called India,
Somewhere on this vast planet Earth.
To each of her billion children,
Her vivid hues are of limitless worth.
The people and culture of this country
Have an essence too multi-hued to capture.
And I will make a sincere attempt to describe
The rainbow that sends me into a rapture.
Almost every citizen has intense saffron faith
Which they are ever ready to defend…
And dazzling white trust in their God
Though calamities their homes do rend.
There is no Indian who won’t surrender
To the beauty of a sudden friendship yellow.
Or pass up a chance to be of maroon service
To an ailing or helpless fellow.
The village farmers will confess freely
How much they value their fields green.
And city dwellers love their materialistic world too
It never seems to lose its silver sheen.
Shrewd politicians strut in their purple cloaks
And Bollywood does the same under golden arclights…
Healers in India are as soothing as sky blue
And the Mithaiwala dispenses candied pink delights.
Then there are the policemen and drivers;
In their khaki uniforms they serve…
And our brave navy blue Armed Forces
Donâ€™t ever hesitate or lose their nerve.
A rainbow contains all colours
Not discriminating the ugly from the pleasant.
And that is why even in India
There are some repulsive colours present.
India unfortunately contains many criminals
Thieves and murderers with hearts pitch black.
And of the millions of grey market traders
It is not possible for anyone to keep track.
Though every hit and run accident and
Conmen and liars make me see red.
It saddens me further to see the poor
Toiling in brown drains to earn their bread.
Amongst all the darkness, India still shines bright,
Our desi brains have won many accolades…
May we continue to strive for the greater good
And put up a show as colourful as our National Day parades!
Music is made of countless notes…
Music, in the air it floats.
Music can be the sound of a flute;
It brings happiness to babies cute.
Music relieves the body and soul,
It stirred the hearts of thieves who stole…
A guitar,a piano and harp so sweet,
Music is found on every street.
Therefore I advise you my dear friends,
Music can help us mend broken ends.
Of friendship and love there’s a breakable end,
So listen to music, its a godsend.
Diamonds are well-cut gems
with mind-boggling price tags.
To obtain this exquisite fantasy
from her husband, a wife nags.
Diamonds sparkle and glitter;
always at their splendid best.
An exhibition of wonderful diamonds
is not any ordinary fest.
Wherever there are diamonds in plenty,
a feast awaits the observant eye;
for an array of these stones is dazzling
and you hear many an exclaiming cry.
‘Oh, how beautiful diamonds are!
How very lovely and magnificent!
They each look as pretty
as the moon in a crescent!’
Diamonds shine and shimmer
like ripples on a lit-up lake.
They have much charm in them;
many people prefer to take.
Diamonds, they say, are forever
because of their hardness inspite;
their glimmers are always things
beheld with longing and delight.
The awe-inspiring craftsmanship,
with which a diamond is cut,
lends it a uniqueness that
causes safes to be carefully shut.
What diamonds are made of is lowly carbon,
otherwise known as charcoal dust;
but ‘a thing of beauty is a joy forever…’,
so possess one, you must!