Penned down

A mother is the loveliest creation of God. Here are the thoughts of the soil.. which plays mother to the tiny seed of the oak. The oak that grows on to be strong and confident, yet holding on to its mother in all times. A different mother You were so tiny, when you fell into my lap. As though by instinct, I knew you were for me. For me to nurture, for me to endure all the pain. To make you what fate had held ahead for thee. My oak you grew, I cried when your deep roots Dug into me - Painful it was, but I waited. No one could hear my yell with joy, When your first delicate green leaves opened You stood alone - and fought your way up. And I rejoiced, like your biological mother. All my friends around chided me as a fool - They were free and happy - why did I bother? All until the Land of Gods started pouring. I tried holding on to my friends in vain. They were washed away.. They were helpless While faithfully my child held on to me..

My mysteries are simple things of the world, I am amazed at the colours of the blue sky above. The Sun losing a crimson war with the moon- They are bonded for aeons by undefined love. Every small thing in my lonely world amazes me A child in my mind I am; I shall always be. It is in school that I meet all my friends, Every day is spent learning simple yet new things. Our teachers treat us with such love and care. All the questions that are seeded in my mind, To answer each of them, my teachers are there. I try to ask, but the right words I can’t find. I know God created me for a special purpose For Parents: I am their forever special child. Then why does the outer world call me challenged? When all that is challenged is their attitude, Towards People different from them.

What I earned in life So many years have whizzed past me- And since long, the door bell gone silent! Loneliness that tires me more than work, Nothing to do, recollecting time spent. Those happy faces, those youthful times, Not a moment of fretting and whining. When we never saw the dark grey clouds- Amongst the bounty of silver lining. Times that we learned more outside, The four walls, than in the confined class, Still those dreary boring rooms seem lovely. Each time that we recollect days past. The random thoughts that come to my mind, The joy and happiness of my youthful days - Alleviates the pain of stinging solitude Which I have earned in many ways. I left my parents for the land of bounty Alone they waited - i took the path oft tread. In their predicament I find myself now.. For alone, I lie awake on my death bed. P.s. If you find the flow of the poem random – from happy to sad, then that is what I intended J. What is attempted is to capture the way the old man regresses to his c...

How often we wonder why we cant write, when we really want to. Ultimately realizing that our secretiveness and fear overcomes the catharsis. I wish i could write that verse, To express what is on my mind. Which diabolic tongue placed this curse? The right words, i just cant find. My thoughts are bundled in silence, Waiting for the key of expression - To unshackle them, to affirm their presence To articulate each of them to excellence Break the bonds and flitter free - Choose the words that decribe you the best! If that is how my emotions, you want to be You shall have to leave your secretive nest.

Comments welcome. Who will put him behind bars, This devil who has stolen a child's innocence How can others hear my muted cries When they are denying this demon's presence? I was a child, fluttering happily around Your lust did devastate me! I am ashamed and wallow in guilt; When you, the horrendous culprit - roam free? Wake up from your slumber my parents, Dismiss not my tales as creations of fantasy. The 'uncle' that you trust as a friend, Finds me as a target who comes easy, This world full of sins and thorns, I have lost the sense of oneself. When will be the justice meted out To many other exploited children as myself.

My day refused to begin- The darkness was too much to let go; The flights of fantasy held too much Than the mundane reality. My day refused to begin- I clinged on to the fading fantasy; My chirping pets trying in vain to tell me their tales of y'day. My day refues to begin- Codes to write and chores to do And unexplored opportunities: Cant you five me two minutes? All until mom calles out Good Morning And gives that invaluable hug. Yes, now my day has begun.. And it refuses to end. I love you mom

Blades of grass towering over me, With greenery till my eyes can see. Untouched solitude; without the future A tete-a-tete with mother nature. Green mountains teeming with wildlife, Unexplored with mysteries rife. The grey sky screaming aloud with light - The thunderous rain to arrive this night! And I would get to savour every moment Of this heart-warming event.. Rather than watching the rain drizzle From the confines of my cubicle.

The darkness or the light... The twinkling stars or the black sky The distracting omens or the stony silence Love in my heart or the void? Powerful knowlege or blissful ignorance Happiness of life or the sufferring The premeditated or the unexpected Life or Death What shall emerge as triumphant Or does triumph ever matter? Nevertheless we too live on With all these questions until the grave

This is a poem that i scribbled recently. Or rather it was a catharsis of what i felt. Whatever we are, whereever we are... its because of the one person who loves us. And loves us more than anyone else in this world does. That is why he is perhaps considered out of world. He is our creator, protector and destroyer. He is God. My poem says 'He is'. but personally God is beyond all the divisions that divide any normal mortal.... caste creed gender colour. He has only one form... Love. He is...He is the breeze from faraway land He is the miracle in every grain of sand. He is the softness in a flower He is the infinite in the hour He is the smile of an innocent child He is the roar of the wild He is the love that blooms He is the ray eradicating the gloom He is the life in all my deeds He is the only ear that pays heed He is the hymn, he is the praise He is the Lord of infinite grace.