New year is really new year,
That is now around, I hear;
For Men may come, and may go,
But this zooms on every year.
Last year, new year had come,
It’s also now here, very near;
I had my hair thick black then,
Have been greying now this year.
Will you not return, next year?
With gift of new a bald header?
Shining gulabjamuns, deep tan
Floating in huge pans.
Pots of misti doi at a corner…
The bride is Calcutta’s Ms Aparna.
Not a Sen, though, but a Chatterjee.
What is the matter, Jee?
Why a high class Bengali marrying a Bihari Lala?
Is there some dal me kala?
Now the purohit has started chanting,
The bride’s over-weight brother arrives panting.
Enters a VIP guest.
Ramu, make haste
And get a chair
By the way, trust,
Absolutely nothing’s wrong in this marriage inter-caste.
Let’s welcome the liberated century twenty first!
A string of pearls?
No, no, a modern, independent girl
Won’t feel the need
Of that. And, indeed,
It would cost you many a tear!”
“My bone then?”
Was your next stunning question.
“Don’t be mad
And funny, lad!”
And ‘er I could add,
“Take my advice,
Do not make such gruesome sacrifice!”
You played it smart
And had stabbed your heart!
Blood oozed from your body
And trickled in a slow-flowing stream.
It seemed like a dream!
I sighed, “Why, why?”
But you did not die.
For a cactus lives
In its other flowers and thorns
If a part is shorn,
The thorns being its ribs.
Blood-milk dripping from your body,
Looking gaudy, you crowned me
Putting your own parts
Unto a world of dreams
let my country awake,
where reality defies imagination,
where wishes are woven like magic
and fulfilled just the same.
Where logic and reason are defeated
at every step,
by the sheer grandeur and the
miracle of joy.
You keep your name an ‘anonymous’
Without name you will be famous.
Toil hard with an ordinary name,
Still you do not earn the fame;
You may sleep your final sleep,
Only you know you are in sleep!
At the most the family knows,
And further a friend or foes;
But not across the continents,
You are known, you are famous.
You give yourself a name anonymous,
For that you need not be studious;
The world shall work to know your name,
What’s your gender, how you earned fame?
Wonder not the gender and the age,
See to it that you create a craze;
This is the formula to be famous,
Get yourself known as ‘anonymous.’
“Heights that the great men reached,
Were not attained by sudden flights;
While their companions slept,
They toiled upward in the nights”.
When my friend heard these words,
He declared to the house outright,
‘Now on, I would sleep in the day
Working upwards through the night’.
The journalist from press heard this,
In interview asked him that and this;
My friend spoke of Lottery and Number
Press presumed truth and this wonder.
News on the air, photo in the papers,
Talk on television, rush of flowers.
What the great men achieved,
Toiling hard in the nights;
My friend reached this height,
Sleeping day and waking night.
(“…”) is a quote
This is my lovely shop,
It remains always open;
When you enter in to it,
Find the items one by one.
You are weak and eaten,
Look sickly and shaken;
Why not enter in my shop,
And buy cure all in one?
You look happy and very well,
But frankly in my ears tell;
With row of houses, Q of cars,
Are you sure you are all well?
Then you must visit my shop,
And buy the item that I sell;
Surely, take, this is for you,
Now you will be really well.
What is this piece that I sell?
What is its price, shall I tell?
For this you hop into this shop,
If you really want to be well.
I was dreaming a sweet dream,
Was in the midst of a stream;
Was holding in both the hands
A big cone full of icecream.
I was surrounded by the fish,
They thought there was feast;
I struggled hard to hold fist,
But icecream went to the fish.
Then struggle among started
All tried get icecream looted;
Smallers failed, did not get,
Icecream went to big and fat.
Be strong if want a thing
If weaker you get nothing.
Only fools think that they
have something new to say.
The wise know ‘what is new
is but an ancient view’.
Those who call themselves wise
are but fools in disguise.
And those who call themselves fools,
pretend to be otherwise.
Women may come and go
talking of Michael Angelo.
Surely men come and go
talking of Marilyn Monroe.
Pygmalion was not unwise
in loving a statue nice.
But when it rose to life,
why take her for a wife?
He who steals a slice of bread
will find himself behind bars.
But he who steals a thought or two
will find himself among stars.
Oh! What a joyful vacation!
Mirthful days appear only on this occasion.
Summer is indeed full of leisure
And waking late- a kind of pleasure;
No homework, no tuition,
Indeed a great pleasure from tension.
Oh! What a carefree vacation!
A lot of time to play.
All through the day.
When the sun becomes an obstacle to play,
Comics and fairy tales take its place.
Merrily, O’ merrily time passes,
Alas! Vacation is fast coming to an end!
Once again children’s face are shrouded in gloom,
And they resume the school life for another year.
Early Thursday morning my teacher appeared with a frown on her face
And said with a positive look of distaste
You’re wanted in the principal’s room, my child
And on hearing this, I nearly died.
I got up with disbelief
My look was one of utter grief
If anyone’d given me a choice between hearing this news and
being hit on the head with the Rock of Gibraltar
I’d have gone for the rock-It’d be faster.
My dear friends and companions sorrowfully bid me goodbye
While all the time holding a handkerchief to their eye
Lest I should see their brimming tears
While my foes, smiling with glee
said to each other
He’s going to get it! Just you see.
With a heavy heart
And even heavier steps
I walked through the narrow, gloomy corridor
Which I thought I’d seen in the movies before
Yes! It reminded me of the passage leading to
the electric chair.
But I’d heard somewhere that only the good die young
And remembering all the past misdeeds I’d done
I reflected that maybe it wasn’t time as yet
For me to climb up into the heavenly jet
Who knows? Maybe I’d survive.
With a lot of trepidation
And an even larger amount of frightation
I hesitantly knocked on the door of the Principal’s office
Waiting for my inevitable doom.
Upon hearing the Principal’s reply
I gingerly walked inside
Treading like a cat on a hot roadside
I looked down at the floor
Muttering players to my Maker
When the Principal intoned
In a warm, clear baritone
Congratulations, dear Karan
For winning the poetry competition.
This is my class room,
Which has never seen a broom.
Don’t mistake it,
For it is full of paper bits.
There are forty students in all,
Sitting in the big hall.
Chatter-chatter they talk,
Oh! here comes the principle what a shock!!
He banged on the furniture,
And out fell his denture.
Oh! what a laugh we had,
Which made him really mad.
Well, this is my class room,
Come and join it soon.
You may like it better than yours,
I am telling the truth ofcourse.
If you kiss her, you are not a gentleman
If you don’t, you are not a man.
If you praise her, she thinks you are lying
If you don’t, you are good for nothing.
If you agree to all her likes, you are a wimp
If you don’t, you are not understanding.
If you visit her often, she thinks it’s boring
If you don’t, she accuses you of double-crossing.
If you are well-dressed, she says you are a playboy
If aren’t, you are a dull boy.
If you are jealous, she says it’s bad,
If you aren’t, she thinks you don’t love her.
If you attempt to romance, she says you assaulted her modesty
If you don’t, she thinks you do not like her.
If you are a minute late, she complains it’s hard to wait
If she is late, she says that’s a girl’s way.
If you visit another man, you are not putting in ‘quality time’
If she is visited by another woman, ‘Oh it’s natural, we are girls.’
If you kiss her once in a while, she professes you are cold
If you kiss her often, she yells that you are taking advantage.
If you fail to help her in crossing the street, you lack ethics
If you do, she thinks it’s just one of men’s tactics for seduction.
If you stare at another woman, she accuses you of flirting
If she is stared by other men, she says they are just admiring.
If you talk, she wants you to listen
If you listen, she wants you to talk.
So simple, yet so complex
So weak, yet so powerful
So confusing, yet so desirable
So damning, yet so wonderful… women.
soothing dulcet tones
of a singer,
vocal notes that flow
with the rythmn
and merge with the
hitting the high notes,
scraping the low,
carrying you with its
as if the singer
to your emotional state of mind!