The Horrors of War

A scythe in hand and a fire in heart
The remnants of all that war had brought
I walk down the canals of the underground
Amongst the dead, a flying vagabond.

No memorials would bury me like my lords
Those over which little mice carelessly trod
Scratching their souls that no mortal could touch
As I do, if it hardly batters them so much.

I move grave to grave with no intention
No plans in life, ambitions nor tension
Carrying just the rag that covers me up
And the burden of sins of the soldiers’ blood.

It was a bloody affair, this war and all
Men, brethren, animals all assembled to cull
With no reason but mutual animosity of kind
No kindness spared, vengeance on the mind.

And now I walk amongst the dead
Horse, friend, foe, bullets all spent
With only a scythe to dispel the dark
No victors that war has gained.


A Love Story

Let me tell you a story of long ago
So long ago that people may not know
A passionate young poet lost his flair
To a beautiful maiden, lovely and fair.

The poet had fallen in love with the girl
Musings turned into poetry the entire fall
The maiden was a fan of the poet’s art
And she too seemed to have lost her heart

The poet had no titles, power and pelf
A heart and an art, concentrated to oneself
He spent them both to compliment the girl
He wrote and she read, fall after fall.

One day, the poet presented a lovely song
The kind that melts the heart of maidens and all
The girl sent lots of compliments in return
Still ignorant of the original inspiration.

The poet shivered as if woken up from the dead
As he opened the scented letter from the girl that said
She was impressed with the poetry he churns out so well
And wished if he could compose a poem on herself.

The poet returned a mail to write his best ever verse
If they could meet and know each other first
They fixed a meeting, both so excited and thrilled
The poet met with an accident and was killed.

Before he ascended the three steps to heaven
Before he saw his life slipping out in vain
The poet asked the angel just one more wish
To hold her once and leave a gentle kiss.

The maiden dressed well and waited for him
Hours passed, she cried but could never see him
The torrents blew heavily, pecking at her neck
She rushed back home, turning her love into hate.

Would someone tell her who the poems were about
That the poet loved her, would she ever figure out
Would she find one equal to love her so much
Love is so promising, but life is such.


Castles of Rhyme

The desire to succeed, being in champions' breed
The celebrations over a score and the relief even more
Meeting people who are now friends, and those people I repent
People who changed my life, and those who started a strife
Working all in extremes, making the best of all means
Hanging around with friends, procrastination till the end
Successive events scaled or failed, rough seas heartily sailed
Those orders and powers employed, some aspirations destroyed
Vagabonds merely for fun, some works of noble note done
Numerous was the herd of such, but we did make so much
Trotting through these frames of mind, these sands of time
The departing fleet of memories pined through castles of rhyme.



On a late summer afternoon
A phlegmatic world against me
In a world so alienly known
Only a friend could saviour be.

Injected with infectious malice bred
A dozen strong fuelled by evil intent
Tied by a common knot of hate
All kinds of harm against me meant.

They marched in procession minus the band
For a record upturned in a turn of a wand
No chance of mercy that would be shown
Although no hallmark hath I blown.

With all the innocence they gathered over years
I braved tales cooked so well by ‘friends’
And as indifferent faces looked on and smiled
Came only one friend to break the offence.

She talked no big, nor made tall claims
But put simple facts very straight;
Did mean no offence on anybody really
But defended the true story lost of late.

Her voice made few more pitch them in
And an active discussion was fought
Bit by bit, out came all venom and spit
And everything was sorted out.

That was when I probably heard of her
And things suddenly seemed to change
In places I could have barely imagined
I probably lost track of my senses.



An anguish floods into my veins
Lashing at me again and again
I stand stupefied at every result
Stupid with every passing thought.

Dejected by my own fate
And rejected at every step
And being so close to the end
No fruit yet borne of these pains.

Misunderstood by my own shadows
Killing myself shallowly for good
I find myself incorrigibly found
Shame, hate, anguish all wound to one.

Lava burning me down within
Which if not vented now
Would cause devastation all around
I fight them all.
All alone.



Melting drops of dew
Crystal pearls painted hue
Meteors flashing across the sky
An act of charity to a passer-by.

The morning breaking of dawn
The first sign of life in a new-born
A bunch of flocking white dove
The figurine of one you dearly love.

The warmth of the first sunshine
A little sister as sweet as mine
Delicious food baked at home
Small talk with grandma over phone.

An eatery at your first school
Selection in an elite talent pool
The joy of your first pay-cheque
A vintage car in your garage.

Touching your native land in years
Festive season with one’s peers
Live a living with no social strife
Some things are priceless in life.

Distant Neighbours

Watching her vague crooning and the gentle smile
In her fond memories, I spent all night
An illusion thereafter swept the morning
And a welcome surprise with the fall of light.

I missed her all night as I watched a video
Wanting to make a call that did not seem
And spent a good time the next morrow
Spinning her sweet fragrance into sweet dreams.

How amiss that she does not even know
How much I miss her this day: today;
At noon I buzzed to relieve some furrow
And yet it hardly seems to settle my day.

The day passed slowly, I gave more thought
No premises to call her, as those remises hang
And yet I tossed my mobile in disbelief
She does not miss me like I do, I thought.

The shadows grew longer as night fell fast
Like a cosy blanket singing lullabies to please
Good news slipped in, but none as pleasing
As a call from a young maiden 400 miles away.


Bunty and Bulbul

The lamps grew dim and words grew faint
As grandma tucked the children in bed
She finished subtly on a softer note
The epic battle of gingers and potatoheads.

Then slowly she lowered the age-old lamp
And walked silently across the gate
Very quietly bolted the brass door-latch
Flooding silence eerily in this silent state.

"Dear Bulbul, will you fly with me
In battles wherever I go
It may be late, but let no enemy escape
The sentence of his indignant blow"

"The rebellion against the masters of the world
These insects must now repay
Would you join me in this valiant journey
To get rid of these insects"

"Sure I will, though lacking in skill
Brother, do you have a plan?"
Bunty's face grew darker in the darkness
"Witchcraft," he proudly announced.

"Can we do it now," Bulbul inquired:
"No kiddo, not so fast,
We'll invite all insects over for dinner
And boil them over an evil spell cast."

The children chuckled in the ill-lit room
Subduing heavy laughter in fits and bursts
And waited for the moonlight to ascend
To invite all insects of the world first.

A narrow beam of moonlight appeared from clouds
And filled the silent room with bliss
The faces of two orphans shone bright
As they prepared chanting spells and hymns.

One moth did come, dancing in the moonlight
Pretty movements at this hour of the night
Bulbul thundered a heavy hand upon it
But missed a late sway in its flight.

The moth kept dancing, unperplexed at all
Bunty unnerved it again and again
But the moth made elegant movements
To escape every threat upon its life again.

Now Bunty had him trapped in a corner
And thundered the heaviest blow he ever tried
The moth swayed, was marginally saved
Though lost a wing in his valiant flight.

The moth dangled still in the corner bravely
Though unable to lift its hood any more, alas
The children looked at each other with great remorse
And pleaded to forgive them for such heinous trespass.

Grandma rose from her deep slumber
And opened the bolted brass lock
And rushed to find Bunty pleading in his dreams
That had given him a vital knock...



"Au revoir, mademoiselle... till we meet again"
So saying he left, in fairly quick pace, to subdue his chains of pain.
He knew quite well that such an event was not unlikely to recur
He turned once more to see the coaches go, and shed a bitter tear.

Then taking the shortest route to home, he drove impetuously in his cart
A sense of burden buried deep, and a heavy guilt cast in his heart.
He passed through magnificent houses alternately painted pink and blue
But none compared to the swelling grief that grew each moment with rue.

He remembered the sunshine in the meadows that the two lovers had shared
And the shrills and frills and thrills and agonies all together dared.
He gasped at the locations where they had made love, and paused at every thought
If only he could stop her once more, he would forever be grateful to God.

For once hath he almost lost her, as she sank down the shallows of Hell
Deep down the mighty Howrah bridge and five hundred feet into water she fell.
But his tears swelled even the unmoving Gods, a miracle, the doctors cried
For lo, she escaped the Titan granites, and back into clay, made her flight.

One last time he wanted to see her face, one last time he wanted to kiss
One last time he wanted to make her laugh, fulfill her very last wish.
He pulled his carriage to the left and the horses neighed in urgency to all
But before one soul could come to rescue, he had executed the most fearless fall.

A thunderous applause greeted the famous poet, lost in his own world by this time
And praises filled the beautiful hall, magnificently lit by chandeliers and shine
The poet smirked at his fate and masked the dinner with a huge commercial success
And no one could read the grief so visibly written down on his face.

P.S: Work of fiction. Any resemblance to real characters, living or dead is coincidental!!


Over the Phone

I brushed my hesitation and pumped my heart
Five years of patience was to burst at last
I summoned all courage and made my mind
A soft prayer once more and called her this time.

She was busy attending to her room after a month
That neglect had filled as examinations thumped
But was keen as I called her and answered swift
I heart her soft voice and skipped a heart beat.

A monthful of moments I had prepared my speech
Of how my proposal should sound proper and cliché
But dumbfounded now over the phone by her voice
And we talked about a friend recovering in Chennai.

We talked of the past, those tuition days
We talked of the future, only career sense
How could I slip in the prosperous news
She spoke so routine whilst I was braying like a moose.

Had I been nuts to speak out my heart
I hung up my phone after sweet regards
A moment of ease and then further uneasiness
Deceit, I felt, would kill me further if I wait.

So I called again and told her straight
I called you not to inquire about that mate
But to let you know how much I was in love
Only to tell you that you’re my only crush.

A long silence thundered volumes more than words
I repeated to let her know again, if I had been overheard
And she replied, We’ve always been good friends
But it’s early enough, though friends we will remain.

Thank you, that’s all I ask of you my friend
And proud and reassured that you are the same
You’ve been such a great inspiration, oh dear
In awe of your beauty and duty, a debt I bear
Which I wish to repay through humble offerings.