Category Archives: Miscellaneous

Far from the Madding Crowd

a poem by

Far from the madding crowd,
And away from the hustle and bustle,
I want to live in a place, serene and peaceful.
Beating country drums loud and non-stop,
To mark death of a person in the neighbourhood,
The banned cone speakers blaring songs,
On festive occasions in places of worship,
Hooting of horns above permitted decibels,
By vehicles nearby highway, piercing ear drums,
Deafening noise generated by network of speakers,
At public meetings in busy thoroughfares,
Street dogs roaming all over, bark in chorus,
At times moan, upsetting tranquil nights.
Alarming and ever rising pollution of sound,
Wrecks my nerve and irritates my mind.
I wish to live in your quiet abode Oh! Mother Nature,
Where the birds tweet in high pitch,
Rhythmically, pleasing and refreshing,
As the breeze blows fast, the branches sway
Generating sound relaxing and peaceful
Meandering brooks through wilderness,
Effect a soft and subdued whisper,
The sudden burst of wind over the lofty hills
Is like rising crescendo of a song,
The swarm of bees buzzing in the air,
Whisper in my ears a subtle and resonant note,
The sound of Falls is the theme music of Nature
Reverberating through the dense forest,
Leaves shed from the trees rustle to perfect rhythm,
As I tread on, through a path of crowded trees
Nature’s sound is a melody composed divinely,
To please and soothe the burdened souls.

The Steam Engine

a poem by

A mellifluous voice briskly announces her arrival,
Stirring a sudden activity on the crowded busy aisle.
Excited, all gleaming eyes stare at her beamingly,
Blowing a long whistle, she glides down majestically.

She stops with a clang and loud screeching noise,
Purging pent up energy; she looks great in her poise.
Though dark in complexion and rustic in appearance,
I love her; she is an epitome of strength and endurance.

Exhausted, in her journey, she settles down to recuperate,
Shovels of coal fed generously into the hearth, to satiate
Her hunger; belches coils of smoke, in her effort to digest,
From the dangling hose, she quenches her perennial thirst.

The shimmering embers generate in her a new vigor,
Now she is fit for the travails of the journey, greater.
The green flag flutters; meekly with effort she heaves,
Hissing a deep breath, blowing a whistle, she leaves.

Crawling and groaning under heavy burden,
Like an old man drawing a cart over-laden,
Slowly and steadily she accelerates her pace,
Generating a rhythm that sets the beat, in her race.

And she disappears into the enveloping darkness, afar,
I can see, the trails of white whiffs dissipating in the air,
And hear the reverberating whistle, diminishing gradually.
Reminiscence of her awakens the dormant child in me, readily.