I have heard of a place that’s not on maps
A place where there’s no room for lies
Where mornings and nights never make the kiss
Where every form of life is able, is wise
Where you’ll find only faces and never a mask
Where curiosity is never afraid to think and ask
Where the one true religion has always been love
Where the endless sky is always blue above
Where the birds never know the fatigue of flight
Where the nights stand dauntless in the stars’ light
Where no child is killed before even she’s born
Where no heart is broken and no skin torn
Where nobody knows the art of building a wall
Where there is always a hand when you fall
Where lilies dance with a newfound zest
Where crows and doves share the same nest
Where the river quenches the thirst of all
Where a horse runs free and is never in a stall
Where the moon’s always shy and the sun bright
Where you’ll never have to fight for what’s right
Where benevolence is, by all, considered divine
Where dreams and fears are separated by a line
Where every empty soul always gets fed
Where there’s always a smile after every tear’s shed
I have heard of this place, and of a train that runs
Through its heart; and I can hear the summons
And since it’s dark, my end drawing nigh
I would love to be there, and I would love to fly
God has gifted us this beautiful nature,
But we humans are very mean creatures.
Trees are the green lungs of the earth,
But we humans are cutting them since birth.
Rivers are our country’s lifeline,
But due to our foolish activities they are in decline.
Glaciers are melting and global warming is increasing,
But we humans are least bothering.
Now it is time to take serious actions,
So we can save our Earth from dangerous reactions.
Now it is time to plant more trees,
So our future generations can freely breathe.
So let’s make this planet green again,
So we can dance again in rain.
Save the glory, save the pride,
Save India’s Tigers, save the indigenous wild.
Save the unearthly beauty, save the exquisite roar,
Save the Royals by the Sunderbans’ shore.
Save those vibrant deep eyes which have seen it all,
From the Zebra, the Giraffe to the Monkey who had the greatest fall.
Save the paws which have pounced so hard,
On the Cheetah, the Bear, all smashed like cards.
Save the stripped skin that glittered in the Sun,
Save it from being perforated by the deadly gun.
Save Your Majesty as he pleads for forgiveness,
For crimes that were not his business.
Save the emperor of the Jungle,
The law of nature – let us not bungle.
From ‘endangered’ to ‘extinct’ – it won’t take much time,
All that would be left then would be a few activists’ cries and whines.
Save the mankind from this great fall!
Ponder, whether your entertainment is worth it all?
Still as the morning
He stood in the gloom
Slivers of mist drooped
Over his haunch
A glint of dew in
His spreading crown
Warm puffs of breath
From his cold, wet nose
Crack went a twig
Beneath my feet
I looked up and
The stag was gone.
It is very strange
that we fear old death
and his sister change,
until our last breath.
Nothing is ordained
but the dire siblings;
they are not the end,
just new beginnings.
When rivers change course,
it is not the end
of their ebb; their force
heals beyond the bend.
We may feed the earth
when we are all gone,
forests may take birth,
birds may find new dawn.
My glass is clouded;
In this driving rain, a whiff-
of the salty sea!
Listen to the rain-
Like many running ripples,
Like gulls on the wing!
Sailor I am not,
Nor fisher or diver deep;
Yet I hear her call!
It rolls and it tugs,
This rising swell within me;
Deep, soft- all at once!
Its shores are not mine,
Nor to its waves I belong;
Yet for them I yearn!
When the sea beckons
from afar, I close my eyes-
It roars within me!
The first cloud that skims along
The last whiff of summer breeze
Leaves an impression of verdurous kiss
On earth’s parching lips.
The cold wind that comes riding
Over the last drop of rain
Passes off… blessing each body
With an encounter of warmth.
The Summer born
In the ultimate moments of Winter
Recedes throwing a fistful of jasmines on adults
And a chestful of memories to children.
Novelty of life and the tapering of death
Shall always fine tune
The music of Life.
Enlivens the passages of Life
With its fragrances.
What a sublime life it is
When we humbly subject to Time or Love
And surrender our Being and our Existence!!!
(Bolloju Baba – Translated from Telugu by Sri. N.S. Murthy)
… That tree was embedded
In the walls and the ceiling.
That, who subscribed its organs
Several times to the rites
Of a lineage.
Great great grandfather perhaps reared,
And worshiped it, his descent
Relished its shades
And multiplex offering.
The great new sons felled it
For the repairs of the old
Yet the tree was happy
To have merged into the family.
Walking down a winding mud path
A stone here and a stumble there
A virgin forest beckons me;
Beyond the meandering brook
Away from the city nooks
A people and their untouched forest
Layers of trees, a rainbow of greens
A dash of butterfly wings
A forest deity, the people and their legends
All entice me;
The wilderness and the ‘Wild’ welcome me–
Unconditional and unreserved
Would my shiny world do the same, I wonder
My own thought mocking me, questioning me.
I trudge along the mud path;
Feeling like an intruder in a pristine world
I cannot give back what I receive, what I take…
Knowing also that I will never belong.
I halt at this thought.
Retrace my steps – back to my high rising world
Leaving with memories and a sense of loss
Loss of something I never had
Loss of something that never will be.
The virgin forest still beckons me
I make do with virtual view now;
Dreaming of another life
Where there would be no boundaries
No guilt of stealth, of intrusion
A life where I could flow like the meandering brook–
Unobstructed and free flowing!