Poems by Babu V V

Premature Fall

a poem by Babu V V

Where she has gone?
I looked for her in the gardens.
I looked for her at the banks of the river.
I looked for her in the valleys of the country side.

I could find her, wherever I look, moving like a butterfly.
Today I looked everywhere.
I could not find her anywhere.
Here she has gone?

She was in her sweet seventeen, the blossom period.
Her eyes were big and bright.
Her palmy hair was thick and black.
Though short, she was stout.

Headache and vomiting disturbed her often.
None paid serous attention.
The other day severe pain hurt her.
She was taken to the Doctor with a heavy heart.

She thought of the dress to wear during the house warming.
She thought of the room she selected in the new building.
She thought of the furnishing that has to make in her room.
However, all her thoughts were futile.

None thought the time was running out.
God invited her to be at his side.
She was preparing to leave her temporary home.
Her sphygmus weakened and lost.

Doctor pronounced her death.
Her soul departed from where it has come.
Her body was put in the coffin.
Friends and relatives surrounded her.

Everybody was found weeping.
Few thought one day they would also lie like her in the coffin.
The bereaved ones called her out as if she is sleeping.
She did not respond.

Some kissed and hugged her.
She did not move.
Her eyes were half-open.
However, she did not see anybody.

Her mouth was partially open.
None gave her anything to drink.
She was taken to the graveyard
Coffin lowered into the grave.

Everybody surrounded poured dust on her.
She joined the dust with which she was made.


a poem by Babu V V

Gravel path passes through the paddy filed,
Watercourse flows under the dilapidated culvert.
Aqueduct stood on the right side.
Tread wheel lay idle on the other side.

Small fishes dabble in the watercourse.
Bullock carts are heading for home.
Laundry man sat at the back of the cart.
Shepherd leads his sheep behind it.

The old Bedford emerged from the quarry,
With labourers on top of the granite,
Sped through the gravel path,
Spreading fumes and dust.

Horizon turned read.
Spike of paddy dancing in the gentle breeze.
Birds travel east to rest in their nest.
Women, firewood on their head, walk like caravan.

The grand bungalow over looking the rubber plantation,
Pathway to the bungalow looks like a snake.
I sat on the culvert.
Watching the beauty of my village.

Left alone

a poem by Babu V V

Oh! Dear why did you go away?
Was it inevitable?
I did not resist,
Because I knew, I would find it futile.
You solace me when I was in distress.
You were my sponsor when I was bankrupt.
You led me when I was stranded.
Now whom should I quarrel?
Whom should I argue?
Who will accompany me in my journey?
Who will water my garden?
Who will feed my lovebirds?
My heart is tinkling.
My stomach is cramping.
My eyes are wet, tears rolling down.
My legs are trembling.
I could not walk straight.
I am looking into the nothingness.
I feel I have none to love and to be loved.
How loneliness it is?
I know nothing is perpetual.
The mountain will disappear.
The sea will vanish.
However, why did you leave me?
I feel I am left alone.


a poem by Babu V V

Forest is our home.
Everything in the forest is our ancestor’s property.
Animals in the forest are our friends.
Bees are our food provider.
Stream in the forest is our artery.
Water in the stream is our blood.

We are not the enemies of the land.
We are not destroying the wealth of the forest.
We are not smuggling the trees as the “gentlemen” do.
We are not killing the animals as the poachers do.
We know they are required to keep the equilibrium of the land.

We are not growing poppy.
We are cultivating for our livelihood.
We are not disturbing the eco-system of the forest.
We are not constructing any palace there.
We are living in tiny huts.

We have no parliament and assemblies.
We have no Ministers, MPs or MLAs.
We have no courts, no judges, and no jails.
We have our own ruler and the judge.
Our ruler is our group head.
We obey his law, the law of the forest.

Please do not interfere in our traditional belief.
Let us live in piece and harmony.

God’s own country

a poem by Babu V V

Where is the God’s own country?
See the potholes filled with rainwater
See the non-synchronized traffic signals
See the traffic jam at the intersections
See the competing private buses
See the speeding VVIP vehicles
This is the God’s own country.

Where is the God’s own country?
See the water clogged canals
See the assembly of mosquitoes
See the heap of garbage
See the scrap collectors, the street children
See the wandering stray dogs
This is the God’s own country.

Where is the God’s own country?
See the herd heading for the slaughterhouse
See the slogan-shouting demonstrators
See the procession of various political parties
See the scuffle between lawmakers and the police
See the scattered footwears all over the street
This is the God’s own country.

Where is the God’s own country?
See the bereaved families of liquor tragedy victims
See the bodies in the shattered bogies
That thrown into the river by the tornado!
Sorry, I do not know where the God’s own country is.
I am not belonging to this place.

Thoughts of the days

a poem by Babu V V

I sat on the bank of the river
It is busy to reach its destination
Anglers are on their search for livelihood
Crows fly around them to get their share

Lawn in the garden grown enough for cropping
Caterpillars are jumping like little frogs
Flowers are in bloom
Bees are roaring around them

The cool breeze embraced me
I thought of the day of my birth
I thought of the days of the agony of my family
I though of the days of the litigation with the neighbor

I thought of the days of my childhood
I thought of the days I spent to quench my thirst and hunger
I thought of the days of my education
I thought of the day of my marriage with my lover

I thought of the day I landed in the land of black gold
I thought of the days I enjoyed the life with my co-worker
I thought of how I ate the honey and honeycomb
I thought of how I drank the wine and milk

I thought of the unpardonable sins I committed
I thought of my futile efforts to rein my desire
I thought of how I reached pinnacle of it
I thought of how I ignored the taboo of the land

I thought of the day of my life partner’s premature demise
I thought of how the God punished me
I thought of the day I met my new life partner
I thought of how I enjoyed the life repeatedly

I thought of the days of my youth hood
I thought of how beautiful I was
I though of how energetic I was
I thought of how enthusiastic I was

Now my hairs have turned gray
My arms are trembling
My skin is shrinking
My grinding machine broke down

My spine bent like an arc
My face is with full of scars
My legs are growing weak
My ears are deaf to the noise of the street

Now I have nothing to think about
I am thinking of rest in peace