Treasure

When the dawn breaks
You roll down to me,
A soft ball of wool
Gently tied to
The unfinished pullover
Beginning to see its day;
Thanks to those
Nimble hands of
The engaged Grandma,
I feel your presence.

You are the wind
Whispering in my ears
For which I hear,
The light in whose
Benevolent bounty
I flawlessly see.

The warm, comforting
World
Like my Grandma's pull
I can wear and sense
Fixed in time and place;
But the affection that
Made it happen
The kissing wind,
The dancing light
To be felt everywhere
In transience,
A constant source in the air
Beyond compare.

The world
Made of both
The work and the cloth,
Gifts me another dawn
To treasure.

Merry Christmas

'Hate the sin, not the sinner'
'Love thy neighbour'
These are the words of Jesus.
We all love Jesus for sure
But let's drop our ego
And examine if we follow
Him from the bottom of our heart
Without any crafty art,
If our answer is no
We have work to do
Without much ado,
If the answer is yes
Then please show your grace.
Share it with us
To make the world
A heavenly place,
So we could all wish Jesus
Merry Christmas!

If followers make leaders
We could show them through our actions
That we  can do without weapons
We don't need to fight any wars
We're all brothers and sisters
Wishing each other
At this time of the year
In tandem, in chorus
Merry Christmas!

Jesus, Prophets and Saints
Will then consider us
As their true followers,
Sins will leave
Us, In neighbours we'll believe
They will break those walls
Fromwithin and wish us all
An enormously gorgeous
Merry Christmas!

Making a move

When all the scientists
Engage their ignited minds
To develop a technology
That channels to feed
The thin mouths
With excess food,
Then the expeditions to
The outer worlds
Will make sense.

Map the distance between
The food and the hungry heart,
Measure with flawless perfection
Than making a mark
On the colorful planets;
Calculate the shelf life of the
Not-yet waste grub,
Let it travel to its starving hub
Sparking priceless smiles.
This trajectory is worth
Thousand times more
Than those
Lightyears of
Meaningless,
Meandering miles.

Dry food, wet food
Oh! The huge Stomach
Is waiting to eat them all.
Before it reaches the garbage
For heaven's sake
Let them reach their desired place.

If you could construct towers
In every nook and corner
For the sake of communication,
You could definitely streamline
The excess to the needy
With your effort and gumption.

Every eatery, hotel
Every restaurant, motel
Every house, home,
Every city, from Haiti, Beijing
To New Jersey, Rome
Needs your help dear
Scientists and engineers
of the world to ensure
That not a morsel of food,
Not a drop of water
Be drained,
We don't have the means
You see
To let them rot and squander
Without care and empathy.

When you solve this challenge
Of this blue terrain
With your gifted Brain,
When all its famished residents
Are replete, thanks to your brilliance
Can you rest to wander
In outer space.

Else it's rather
Superfluous
To make a move
In Moon or Mars.

In words

I speak with words
Yet the sense
Precipitates in a land
Beyond their world.

I've never chosen
Green for grief,
Gray for gaiety
I have never said,
'I'm tired'
With an expression
Of exhilaration.

Words
Murderers,
Saviours
Of the soil.

It is the non-words
That make words, words.

Still
All of this
Had to be unearthed
In words.

Humble wish

The tongue is in between
The heart and the brain
Let my speech draw
The strength and balance
from both,
Not from one alone,
For then it could be either
Too dry, too wet, too in vain.

Let it be colorful, soft, sure
Warm and humble, yet very high
Let the lightness of the tongue
Touch the sky,
its sharpness so sound
Peacefully poised on the ground
Like the rainbow that's seen
As an effort of delight
By the sun and the rain.

France factor

France factor

France is fuelling!
No to football?
Is France failing?
Frustrated with
The rising fuel price
They're fiercely paying
A heavy price.
Damaging their own
Priceless possessions
In Paris which, even
Hitler hesitated to hurt?
All this just to
Get a message across?
France has lost its gumption.
To protest against Macron
Parisians, or 'Pharisiens'*
Are behaving like Morons.
O Saraswati! Goddess of learning! Save this mess!
Bless this modern Kalidasa**
So he resurrects into consciousness!

Pharisiens* - Pharisees or hypocrites
Kalidasa** - One of the greatest Sanskrit writers of India, author of  'Meghadootam'. The legend goes that he was considered naïve and ignorant, known to have been cutting the branch of a tree where he was sitting. He fell off the tree and was weeping helplessly when Goddess Saraswati came to his succour, blessed him and thus hehwent on to become the wisest man history has ever known.

Being in touch

Being in touch

Speak less, speak slow

Speak sweet,

Even when you're

Feeling low.

Let vibrations of

Happiness be sent

To all the priceless

Five elements.

From dawn to dusk

Let all the organs

Sing of love

Not of judgement.

Being light, being sound

Beneath the sky,

On the ground

In every moment.

The unpaintable

Heaps of livid leaves
Lying loose on the ground.
A deaf and blind artist
Visibly challenged,
With the tired brush,
Frozen paints,
Frenzied fist,
Was trying hard
To draw people,
Who, in their mind
Are deaf and blind.

Br-aching news

When the moribund world
Is wailing of walls
Of false, deadly habits
Beyond its wits,
We are in the lounge talking,
Breaking our heads
Over Brenrty or Brexit.