Poems by Jacob Jamesraj

V Sitaram

a poem by Jacob Jamesraj

‘Tiger’ Chole and Queen’s English;
Braided silk smoothened in oil;
We the registrars and our gibberish,
Refining ourselves thro’ all the turmoil.

Looks down at us above the lens
And the specs travels up his nose;
With direction, plan and sense
His finger tip perfecting the pose.

Measured steps of simple elegance
Treading down the silken trail
Oh the man and his mends
One of chosen o’ the CMC grail.

As he trudged with fire and scalpel
All our ides he sewed with ease.
Taught us practice and its principle
So we could all our patients please!

To hold, he taught us
To sew and knot!
Crisp, curt without much fuss
In all what we ought.

And more than cutting and the sewing
As life’s curly paths we trod
Along our slow learning and knowing
Was his firm directional prod.

For this and those and ever so many
Cuts and bruises and slices fair
That trimmed and polished and made us shiny
Can anyone be less thankful, I dare.

Altho’ he would ne’er e’er celebrate
Love or his Love’s refrain a day;
Pearl harbor he said was fate!
And to all questions the answer was Nay!

On a day drunk with work
Chandy, he, sleep and I
Loosened a neuron in his quirk
As he with honesty got high.

Stories of love rattled away
In the deep desk of Palace Café
The clinical pathologist and her sway
A tiny peep, you might say!

And in the end in all our lives
For what we stand and what we are
As we travel those many miles
We carry a little bit of VSR!


a poem by Jacob Jamesraj

The summer games with Flower and Bee
Ended as the cold breeze blew;
The Willow scarred by some mad lover
Its leaves started shedding anew.

My friends left for the sun-blest land
Green shawls with jewels decked.
How could I leave my slender Reed,
That bowed each time I pecked.

I met the Reed on a summer day
As I was chasing a bee;
I pecked at its stalk so lovely green;
It bowed a low bow to me.

Round and round it all day long
Flew I with heart very light;
All through the long day summer hours,
Not knowing my future plight.

One fine day the sly Wind blew;
All round my reed he went.
She did a slow and graceful bow;
My heart to hell it sent.

My Reed, have you forgotten those sweet sweet hours,
As around you I went;
With no good deed other than courting,
All the time we spent.

A thousand coo-coos to myself I uttered
Ere the best before you I laid;
But what did you do my dear lil’ Reed?
With the cold wind you swayed!

I seem to have found the long-searched answer
To that question dear;
Reeds are Reeds, for bowing to all;
However good the appear!

On All Soul’s Day

a poem by Jacob Jamesraj

The birch lives still.
Beneath which we kissed.
Beneath which you now lie.
The tingle of grass on my feet
The touch of thy fingers do tell.
The bloom of the heather
The sweet smile thy lips decked.
They seem like yesterday.

The task you left behind
Still half undone lies.
The earth wet with dew,
Rewetted by tears anew,
Darling I’ll join thee soon
As soon as the work is over!

Oh the Tsunami

a poem by Jacob Jamesraj

Up came the water;
It went above our head!
Its killing power greater,
It left us all dead.

Did we want to die?
Oh no! Did we want to die?
All we do is mourn and sigh,
The black pall is nigh!

Her heart and hand broke and bled
As to the tree she clung;
And into the pool of the mighty dead
Her dear children were flung!

Did we want to die?
Oh no! Did we want to die?
All we do is mourn and sigh,
The black pall is nigh!

The young cricketer’s mystic run-
His run into his grave;
Going away, his only son
The father could not save!

Did we want to die?
Oh no! Did we want to die?
All we do is mourn and sigh,
The black pall is nigh!

The baby slips to the watery sand,
He held his child and ran;
In ‘safety’ finds only the clothes in hand,
Tears drown this poor man!

Did we want to die?
Oh no! Did we want to die?
All we do is mourn and sigh,
The black pall is nigh!

Did the Father’s mighty hand slip?
Not knowing we ask ‘Why?’
Why did he permit this tragic dip?
We cry! We pray! We sigh!

Did we want to die?
Oh no! Did we want to die?
All we do is mourn and sigh,
The black pall is nigh!


a poem by Jacob Jamesraj

He’s black; I’m white.
So we should fight.
I’m brown; he’s yellow.
So he’s not our fellow.
‘How long, how long’,
I fondly ask in song,
‘Will black, brown and white
Mingle and mix only in red?
Will things naughty and nasty
Be all the things that are said?’

All differences must go;
Like planets in their row
Life’s machine we must run,
And everyday have fun.
With all love sincere,
I dream of a world dear
Where colour exists not
In mind; but only the eye.
In happiness and peace
We’ll live, you and I.

A son’s grief

a poem by Jacob Jamesraj

Can I but stop to think?
With you on life’s very brink;
The very many days of yore
Of which all are no more,
When on your lap and breast
I played and did rest;
Under the cunning of your eye
Surely and fully grew I.
Was it only to kill?
Mother’s heart with grief to fill?

Daddy O Daddy!

Can anyone bring you back to me?
Beckoned by my compulsion,
The faster surer Yama,
Daddy O Daddy!

Your heart which me bore
Suffered my decision cruel;
And the core hurt and sore
Trudged on with the duel
With man, man and machine;
The unsatisfiable thirst for air,
The endless motion of bellows fair,
Paraphernalia of many a design;
Till at last weary and worn
From us all you were gone,
Redeemed from the shackles of pain
To where for eternity remain;
The pain in my heart I bore
Long after yours was no more.
Daddy O Daddy!