Category Archives: Places

Be Alive

a poem by

Yes Gujarat, here we are,
To add to the bling of the Western Star!
And to breathe a bit of the Western flower!

To be mesmerized with its hues and color!
To feel the Whiff of Gandhian valor.

To dance and merry in your Ghagra Choli
To relish your world Famous Fafra Jalebi!

To touch and feel NAMO’s Apno state,
A destination that changes business fate.

To see the Camels marching in the white Sands,
To witness the gorgeous Desert lands.

To dwell in the moonlight, and lazy in the tent,
Where peace and Jazz can together be felt.

To Dream about nothing with open eyes…
To re-visit my Life and answer all the Why’s!

To Bond with myself and Friends alike
To Create memories, and once again BE ALIVE!

A Village

a poem by

In the lap of nature,
Stands a village,
Glorious and grand,
Immortalizing nature,
Encompassing beauty.

The rays of life,
Scatter themselves through the leaves
Encrusting the village with gold,
Scattering the body
Into the four elements.

The lake grand and glittering,
Reflects life
Opening the mask of humans.
Wearing the necklace of lotus
And earrings of The banyan
It sustains life.

The first rays ring the bells of the temple
Releasing each from the bond.

The farmer comes out
Bidding farewell to his family,
To reach the field
Where humanity would progress.

All season he works
For humans to survive
But has little to survive.

One family of hundred live in that village
Centuries old they are,
Making love immortal,
They will take birth, live and die there
Till the end of the earth.

The village witnesses
Love, care and compassion
A heaven on earth it is,
The night stars twinkle as if smiling
For God sits and looks down at their own garden.

Boulevard under Orange

a poem by

Otherwise blind it is- the alley by my house,
Covered in pitch darkness of the nocturnal sky
Orange glimmers break the blindness however,
Twinkling from a frail lamp-post, weathered now.

A handful of pedestrians, frequent this unfrequented lane occasionally :
Navigated by that glinting apricot lantern
Held up against the ebony blanket of night sky,
As if by an illusory noctambulist, guiding their way,
Safely to their nests- slung at the bottom of the backstreet…

Tinkling their way through, peddles the rickshaw-pullers,
Visible only when under the saffron sodium-vapour lamp;
And then melting harmoniously with the blackness stretched yonder…

The bottle green coconut clan, now shadowed by the inky hue,
The reeling breeze caresses every fixed tree and every gliding soul;
A pleasantly queer ataraxy, hovers through this avenue;
Rejuvenating my sweltered core at the twilight of every sunrise…

That orange twilit alley by my house:
Lying in perfect seclusion from the city’s anarchy,
Untouched by earthly chaos or agony;
Trance-like in night’s tranquility…

Mumbai

a poem by

Mumbai, the city of dream
In problems, it stands up as one team

The city welcomes everyone
Glamor in it attracts anyone

Here, life is very fast
On Occasions all have a blast

Here, all are in hurry
In crowd people forget their worry

The city also has its dark side
Still people continue to reside…

Travelogue – I

a poem by

Just after education one can be nothing but novice only;
One has to know about the world to survive in one field.
First experience in life has a lasting impression in mind
That only decides about one’s future course of action here.

Configuration of world, dream and heart is a must for one;
Or else one searches what one seeks to get satisfaction in life.
To live natural life, travel helps to overcome mechanical life
As world serves as encyclopaedia to unravel many enigmas!

Knowledge helps one to ascertain the right course of life;
But only by intelligence one can choose the right course; yet
Without wisdom knowledge and intelligence are inadequate
To decide about the future course of action one has to pursue!

Business like air travel to places won’t satisfy one’s desire;
Train or ship travels give chances to see and fulfill one’s dream!
Education makes one a book worm but not a man of the world;
And so, travels only provide opportunities to know the world.

Educational institutions under take excursion programmes for all
To see the wonders of the world that inspire to achieve such feats!
All graduates should be allowed free to see historical places; and
International organisation should allow all to see world wonders!

Best travelogues produce vicarious pleasure to any ardent reader!
Egypt transports our minds to the splendour of the past civilisation
And makes us wonder at its richness, beauty, medicine, astronomy!
Istanbul tells about Byzantium, Constantinople, Sofia Church-Mosque!

Travelogue – II

a poem by

Jerusalem inspires at the wisdom of Solomon and Jesus doctrine!
Indian Temples, arts, literature and culture attract at its greatness!
Past grandeur and present glory inspire and kindle all to soar high!
Personal experiences give more than vicarious pleasure we enjoy!

Even walking alone in Nature gives unique experience unforgettable!
Things seemingly nothing become sensational and sensible sometimes!
Buddha, Newton and Rousseau discovered many truths under the tree!
There is so much in seemingly nothing everyday Nature to get rapture!

Beach, park, garden, Temples, church and mosque restore mood!
Such visits provide information amazing to rejuvenate high spirit!
Diversion from monotony to memorable delights changes destiny!
This is the purpose of travels, journeys and voyages to discover world!

Ideas and hope got out of journeys give confidence and courage;
Especially travels in trains on hill stations elevate mind, heart and spirit!
Or travel alone after a great mission gives relief with blessed mood!
Or a homeward journey after a long time awakens the frolicsome mood!

Then it is old wine in a new bottle to enjoy life once again in our place!
Only after roaming about the world good and comfortable becomes home!
So, travel is a must for all to know the self, others, world and Nature!
Especially pleasant place enjoyed remains deep and fresh in the mind!

Kolkata: A Still Image

a poem by

Passing by the hillock of garbage
He lifts the handkerchief mechanically
To his nose-
Uneven broken footpath
Sharp stonechips hit the ankles
Coming out of the newly repaired dishevelled road
Resulting from yesterday’s two showers.
The contractor sniggers standing somewhere near-
“Out of a contract valued two pice
If one and three quarters are shared
How much is left out of it for the work?
What better way is there to use the stonechips?”
Broken roads overcrowded bus footpaths encroached
Hoodlums and youngsters raising donations-
Passing all these by he enters the womb of
The stumbling city to easily cover a long distance
By Metro-Railway: A remarkable system
To be preserved with pride.
Reaching Park Street, the only road
To show the discipline by the men and police,
He finds a VIP car with red-alert on its head
Followed by vehicles galore on its front and aft
Speeds with the gun aimed at men
Protruding from a corner;
If someone notices, most do not look at.
Courageous leaders- are the people their representatives
Or they are of the people?
All around he finds them moving on the roads
With black hairs on their bodies,
He lifts the handkerchief again to his nose.
Walking mechanically through all these passing scenes
With lamenting thoughts and knitted brows
Suddenly he halts-
Light fragrance of the flowers!
This tree over the head, they too are there
Favourites of the city, they too love it
Like the conscience of men
With infinite patience
Like many statues, reminiscent of the past, standing.

The Traveller

a poem by

Slowly, like the clouds; I wander,
Below large and unknown skies.
I trip, I fall, I flounder,
With every sunset and sunrise.

Winds of change keep blowing me further,
From thoughts of my home,
I am tense, I sense danger,
As I go to new places; all alone.

But every time there is a good thing to like,
And a bad memory to forget.
New and old places start looking alike,
And soon there are no worries, no regrets.

Heaven and Hell

a poem by

Where is the place where devils dwell?
With their weapons of torment
Where the gravest sinners lie to rest
Without remorse or lament

With their breath of life consumed
Burnt in eternal flame
Lie suspended with stings of sin
Wherefrom all these sinners came

No blessed moods of mystery
No surreal living soul
No streams of tears to run their course
To water their parched soul

It is all here my fellow beings
No remote place is Hell
Your concern creates a Heaven here
Apathy makes it Hell

The Heavenly Hills

a poem by

(Lines written on a brief stay at Kodaikanal Hills)

The Queen of the Hills keeps the health sound and top;
The herbal plants abound from the plains to the top;
Eucalyptus, exotic flower plants and sweet fruit trees, if you climb
Up and up the hills will freshen the breath with medicinal fragrance.
Floating all in exotic dizziness the vehicle negotiates many hairpin bends
And finally reaches the top of the misty dreamland with ease.

One bath at the Silver Falls is enough for the whole stay there;
So cool and fresh the pleasant environment keeps the body, mind and soul
That no further cleansing of the dirt is needed throughout the stay.
The effect of the Silver Falls and the freshness of the top purify all;
The effect of the Queen kindles the passion to remain there ever.

The Sunless day! What a pleasant climate the place has!
The cool, serene and unassuming lake below the misty sky,
Where couples go boating round the lake all round the day
And the children go horse riding around the lake on and on!
The tired and elderly people sit on the benches along the lake
And watch and enjoy the joy and serenity of one and all there.

Day or afternoon, the time nobody bothers there;
Rest and peace, indeed can anybody get there.
Such a lovely place it is that nobody misses to walk round
The lake, Bryant Park, Coker’s Walk, suicide point and Pillar Rocks
And many more places like the golf ground, observatory, temple, etc.

Like foreigners men wear apparels to go to the English Club
And play and play Cards or Billiards till they exhaust;
Grown up boys in groups hurry to the Boat Club
To get the boat and row and row round the lake till the evening;
Or they eat the boiled maize and enter the Hall to see the roller skating
And skate and skate round there till they sweat and roll down.

Eating, playing and chatting people do in this misty place,
Where except mystics all people mix with all in joyful mood.
Schools, church and temple attract many to know about these;
Flowers in the gardens before many estates tempt men to buy 0ne,
A nice place, indeed, to take rest in the summer, they think.

It is an heavenly hill where all earthly needs one can get;
To work long hours without sweats it is the best place in the world
And to do jobs with satisfaction this is the climate I prefer most.
The lake sites are the bridge between the heavenly hills
That attract the tourists from all over the country to come in
April-May for the summer and September for the second season!

A night at the bus stand

a poem by

Beautiful new city, crowed streets full of light
So what have you in store for me?
There’s so much to explore, I want to see it all
And hold time in the palms of my hand
I breathe in the city’s ways and fast life
Work leaves very little free time
I eagerly await the day off in the week
To explore this city and all it has

I travel all day, see them movies and cars
There’s so much more, I’m far from satisfied
But its pretty late now I rush to the bus stand
The last bus will soon arrive
I sit at the bus stand and look around
This the city that lives thru the night
Some rush in haste others leisurely walk
No two mannerisms even remotely alike

A man strolls past serving tea from a can
“The last bus has left you’re too late.” Now am I?
Hurry as I did I missed the last bus
I am now stranded, left high and dry
What will I do now? Home’s too far away
Can’t walk back, why not spend the night here?
As I wait I’ll watch this city that don’t sleep
Let it fill it’s life in my mind

Time ticks away, I see this beautiful lady approach
I look away I do not wish her uncomfortable to make
But when I look at her, I just cannot resist
I don’t believe it, the lady at me smiles!
Must I smile back? It would be rude if I don’t
So I smile back, she walks up to me
“Hello there,” I say, “A thousand says she”
Baffled I send her away

My heart calms down to its normal pace
Never thought this would happen to me
The tea man comes up to me I ask him for some
To soothe my nerves I could do with tea
A little away I watch few people settle to sleep
Under the open sky they spread their sheets
No roof over their head the open sky is theirs
Tonight I share with them the twinkling sky

Cops on patrol pass by, they look me up and down
Suspicious of my actions, why be at the stand?
They move on away leaving me to myself
I get back to watching the city at night
A drunken man passes by singing aloud
The dogs bark at him until he goes by
Then they go back to their sleep
Beside the men close to their body warmth

The tea man appears again and chats me up
Sharing his life in this city, his joy and strife
Would he want to go back? There’s no where to go
This city was his home now, here he would die
The night has gone by I watch daybreak approach
People begin to come out of their homes
Few hurry to work others out on a morning walk
Another day in the city has begun

The first bus approaches, the tea man leaves
He wishes me the best, I board the bus to retreat
Back to my home, back to another day of work
Back to a hectic day, shines above the morning sun
I take back with me tho, the beautiful night
Where man and beast together sleep
While others move about not knowing the night
I take back with me all this and more
A remarkable night at a bus stand in the city
A memorable night to me of this city life

The Park

a poem by

What a drowsy atmosphere prevails here,
When the lousy sphere is full of fear!
Plum green grass everywhere as far as eye could reach!
In the heart there stands a beautiful dome.
Perhaps it’s the souvenir of that Xanadu’s Kubla dome!
Four parts filled with green grasses
And the trees of many branches
Fortifying them all like good fences,
The park welcomes one and all.
Not only multi-coloured butterflies fly there
But also mellifluous dream angles lie there!
Indeed it’s a place meant for pleasure!

Bangalore City

a poem by

Living in the room
I am writing a poem
There is nobody in room
Except me and my thoughts
Wondering what I am doing
It is Bangalore city
City of IT industry
City of India’s future
City of many young enigmatic minds
City of traffic congestion
Thinking of going to Metro
City of big shopping malls
City of young girls selling flowers
City with lot of circulating libraries
City with newly upcoming Bangalore Mysore Expressway
City where life never stops
Like one ways of city
I am looking way out of this
Bangalore to my small city Chandigarh
Near the hills of Shivalik
With beautiful Sukhana lake
No traffic congestion
With peace of mind
May be someday
I will retire there to end my journey of life
At present life is going on like one way of Bangalore city
I hope someday
There will be two ways
So that we can move out of city
But at present there is only one way to city of Bangalore