Random_Thoughts

    Humdrum hours humming cries Painful memories of the past Creeks and rivulets of the eyes   A martyr’s mother mourned the prize Promise prayed in the past Humdrum hours humming cries   A tweeny tweenie tormented thrice Bloom nipped so fast Creeks and rivulets of the eyes   Wailing womb still in trice Maternity ward coining coins, aghast Humdrum hours humming cries   Wages and sheds the migrant pries Miles melt in mundane last Creeks and rivulets of the eyes   Shallow selves thriving in lies Man marred in this thwart Humdrum hours humming cries Creeks and rivulets of the eyes                        

                     Steaming veggies, whistling pressure cooker and tea-pot Whick, whick, chop, chop of chopping board Busy mornings with forlorn tiffin and mixt menus. Monologued Mrs. M,” Keto, Atkins or Vegans? Fancy faddist, feeding faded food No carbs or all carbs, is this the diet? Nuts and seeds you sniff and ingest. Pulses and grains, you gobble in grams. No more, overdosing the underdose diet. Dial-a-meal or dine in are the dieter’s delight! Nay! Fancy packs, I will unpack all. Immunity pill we chase in Covid times Elixir is the balanced diet Colorful plate with fruits, grains and nuts Shun the sodas and sip the H2O." Healthful hearts with healthy living.  

Oriental romance or a tragic tale Love across forbidden boundaries East melted in West on clashing divides A bouquet of prejudice, racism and fear Roses of fusion and thorns of hybridity Rubbed out from Victorian History books A fiery, passionate and stunning lass Ten and five she married the man of her desires Defied conventions and broke the barriers Of religion, race and culture Oh! Saddest life Khair-Un-Nissa had Widow at nineteen, wailed for her honeys Lost her Sahib Begum and Sahib Allum They were now White Mughals, Kitty and William Love lost and found in her quest  Beloved wife of James Kirkpatrick Rejected lover of Henry Russel A cracked heart rested in unrest.

  Seasonal seasoned selves Frigid as winter cold Benevolent as spring daylight Fiery rage as summer soars Detached and dormant as autumn shades Players in the best roles Unique yet cloned!

No way 2020 Give way to 2021 I want to drive through Road of flirtation Agog to meet my mate Yo! On a dream date.   Blue above like a swimming pool Shimmering stars winking as flirty friends Moon the audience to you and me I will make a moon lamp As the candle light To kiss the distilled moonshine.   A ballet dance with The crunch of feet on sand Saline play with whispering throbs Yellow button on blue coat Will poke at the crack of dawn Teaser yellow ball bells us off.                                                                                       Ahem! My dream dates

  I am like the blue champagne In the bottled sea You move like a whisper Unannounced chaos within me Swirl of conversations between you and me Joy and pain, I weave in and out You emerge from the womb Of the red and black ink.   Lo and behold! My verse You shower quietness without loneliness.    

His gentle gapes Standing under the sultry shade Fire ball bouncing head to toe Burning the hopeless eyes Eyelashes eyeing with sweat Noonish beams offering frigid warmth   Beholden bowing to Mem sahib Silhouettes slip from deluxe car Grumbling madam whined At sagging yellows and greens Haggard hawk this hawker was Ma’am haggled to half the cost   Chink and clink in the empty box He sat tight from day to night.  

Deafening uproars of life ring Dead memories tot up in the spinning top Topsy- turvy till all thaws!

From one junction to another A rail ride to the realm of riddles Hawkers, vendors and passengers painted the platform                       Clickety-clack, whistle-stop and on track Jerks, halts and restart. Ticket master mastered the cliché                                                                      “Destination please! Decide or move out.”   My feeble mind wished to say, “Dystopian dream, nowhere to go!” Fluttering butterflies devoured my heart I announced,” Mount Kailash to Amarnath.     ...

Dust settled with raindrops. Delightful smile, a gift from raindrops. Pen, paper and brewing cup of coffee I glance by the shelf. A perfect mood to pen my poem. Like a dead clock, the nib somberly silent Blank page with no line or dot.   The poem proclaimed: I am on strike. Are my emotions a fool’s paradise? You conspire to inspire lovers of verse Unfair world you needle with fair words. Deceit you knit with silken threads. Insipid canvas you color with rhyme. I am the uneven beads threaded into a string.   Revered with likes, shares and reposts Departed and recharged as a new post. I spin in circles of your fortune wheel. Goodbye! Till I am back from strike.    

              Million thoughts in my mind Suffocated with stressful times I gaze through the green house An alternate window to blend   A creeper in the glass vase says: I am entangled and crumpled within Shackles of the caged glass stutters My seized roots are the check-list Controlled and cared by the culture I wish to break the fetters Crash, smash and tinkle into thousand pieces Once untied, glass will rest at peace My free roots will fuse with soil   A split and splat on the floor Repeal bin years to restart I gaze through the mind’s core An alternate window to blend  

As a planet, we have witnessed the endangered as well as extinct species. Dinosaurs, the strongest of the carnivores went extinct about 65 million years ago after living on Earth for about 165 million years. No matter how powerful or ferocious any living being is, yet it cannot escape the fangs of time. But exceptions are always there. There is one such infamous pest which can make women shriek even in the most elite get-togethers and men shiver at its crawl on their skin. Sundar Pichai, Google CEO in his inspirational speech spoke about the Cockroach Theory. Cockroaches outlive everything. The cockroaches are an ancient group, dating back at least as far as, the Carboniferous period, some 320 million years ago. Cockroaches are abundant throughout the world and live in a wide range of environments, especially in the tropics and subtropics. They can withstand extremely low temperatures, allowing them to live in the Arctic. Some species are capable of surviving temperatures of −122 °C....

One nation, one dream and secular faith; that has been our dream from the times immemorial. On this seventy third year of Independence, let us pledge to bring pride to our mother land. We are a glorified nation with the golden past. We were the wealthiest land in the ancient times. Kohinoor to Ayurveda, farming to Himalayan Peaks, we had munificent wealth. Our contributions to the world have won us accolades. Academically India paved the way to the world’s first University. Hien Tsang, in his diary had mentioned about ‘Takshashila University’ which had 10,000 students and 200 Professors. Numeral zero, Game of chess and Leprosy treatment are just a few gifts to the world by Bharat. Persistent and relentless efforts for 190 long years paved the way to freedom from colonial rule. The uneasy path to freedom struggle began in 1757 after the Britishers defeated the last Nawab of Bengal. Though the freedom fighters were no less than a ball of fire, yet they had to lay their lives to besto...

We often talk about the changing times. Everyday discussions pertain to the phenomenal changes we have witnessed in the past one century. Escalating the point, we feel that things have changed drastically in the past six months. What it was then and what it is now is unbelievable. Yes! Though there is no rooster crowing in the morning, yet the mobile alarm with varied ring tones from a cat’s meow to a lion’s roar wakes us up. What next? We rush to hold our mobile phone, just as a mother longs to hold her infant after many hours.   I go on a guilt trip every morning browsing endlessly and repeating the same for no reason. It is a part and parcel of our lives, isn’t it? Temptation to know if  Covid-19 cases have spiked or subsided; any causalities, news on hatred, crime and politics. To make matters worse, we watch the same news item on so many channels and websites with novel stories. Fake news in the media, misinformation and wrong information just add fuel to the empty- headed spec...

         My abode is sanitized every a.m. Scarred mound of rot and rotten Swept and brushed to the yellow truck Lazing as a cat in the Sun Sauna bath I get in the yard   Dull and bland I am in my vacant self I set my eyes to be chock-full To welcome peels, shells and seeds Smash and shatter of beer bottles Squeaking corks, cans and containers   By noon, I am half full Leftovers, rags and crumpled pages Twigs and withered browns and faded reds   Delights of yesterday on walls and peg tables Abandoned adorns house in me today   Spoken as stinking and malodorous Kicked to test filthy fullness Oldies and young retort like I am a trampoline park to my cronies Cawing crows, purring cats and kept dog Filth for men, midday meal for buddies   Black hole of Calcutta in the midst of night Spiteful spits carry the cram at sunrise.  

           Sweet sixteen spirited spirits Chuckling and smiling to the tunes of life Desired to soar high in the sapphire sky Freedom forlorn with mundane tags Dogmatic rituals for an upright life Rhetorical confinement and consolations   If conditions key to seamless life “You sit straight, pause and talk Speak soft, listen more Learn to cook, knit and stitch Play dolls not cars, soberly clad Moon fast for the honey moon.”   Heena adorned hands and feet Charming with her charms and chains Bride at eighteen, a new-fangled life An epoch of bounded boundaries Pleasing to please her own self Sun fast for sons in her womb.   Time, the charioteer galloped on the horse chariot Insipid life with shades and blends A chasm of hope and despair Mixt tell-a- tale of unsung youth and age Frolicsome friend she was to her own self Dopamine fast, this time for her free self

            “Once upon a time In the year 2020, when I was ten A chubby bubbly school girl I was confined in the four walls With mommy, daddy and Suhaanee.” Granny told this so many times.   “We wore masks, gloves and sanitized Our doorbell, doors and every small thing If a friend or relative ever visited. Retail therapy shifted to essential errands Dad was the chef and mom the cleaner.” This droning tale was a lullaby.   “A click away was the school We entered the campus from mobile. No answer scripts for the rough days Online test and online scores Gone the games, canteen and tomfooleries.” Wrinkled face with childish tears.   “We prayed to cleanse the sins Swore to depollute the self and surrounds Pledged to share the planet with plant and wildlife Charity and service to humanity It was the new model we modelled.” Burning eyelids with ecstatic smile.   “Oh Granny! Roller coaste...

    A sharp stab of soreness Worn out! She sat back down Was this the fire that wolfed Her peace of mind? Snarling as a sting of the honeybee Scarlet red, the flow in her veins Honey was the cure of her pain!  

          Close bosom friends in the Marshy Land Suraj, Surya, Shums and Sunjit Couch-glued mates in the lockdown Birbal sermons and oratory on   Politics, religion, corona and what not! Google guru, Insta friend, Twitter mate Enlightened the gullible lads   An evening with obscure conversations on Beliefs, Ethics, Sacred texts, and ceremonies “We are the oldest religion.” said one “We are the contemporary.” said another Each failed to prove superiority Best buddies turned as mad as hornets Adieu! Agonized steps treaded home   Teary pour veiled in raindrops Wham, slam, bang and blow A scattered plane in the containment zone Quick off the mark, reached the tragic site No mask, no gloves, no caste or class Ambulance driver, nurses and fire-fighters Manifold parts they played united   Secular and selfless service A new scripture they gifted to the society

Catastrophic disasters, a synonym for 2020 Bush fires,outbreak of locusts Pandemic to chemical explosions Murders, suicides and rapes Mirage of hope to the sweating self Reminders of do's and don'ts Unpardonable pardons of the wicked mind Standing in an oasis of sinland Folded hands to quench the thirst of virtue Absolve, one more time

At six in the evening  When folks were set to meet Oldies and kiddies at home The echoes of the boom The resonance of the kaboom Mistaken for crackers and fireworks Oh! The fateful was a fatal Tuesday  Peter,Jack or Maha, mere bodies now Like a lunatic wailing for mortals Many dead as doornails in the debris Photoshoot of the maiden in bridal train White satin gown,a blum bag in the black sky Monster rose out of the waves Giant bite shivered the port Flamingos and cats statues on the go Deafening silence of the fearful footsteps  Soundproof fall of coins,trinkets and bottles  Scarlet red, coloured the messy pavements  One ray of hope in the injured inning Granny's lullaby to Beirut on her keyboard 

                                                    This is a difficult season we are walking through and it seems there is no light at the end of the tunnel. Uncertainty, fear, destruction, racialism and nepotism are at the peak. Covid-19 has become a part and parcel of our ability to adapt to the new ways of life. Gradually, we shall overcome this natural virus but the answer to the vexed question is vague: How will we fight with the deadly virus which is inside?   Internet is flooded with news from all the quarters of the world. It pains to read about the War-torn and conflict-affected countries which need humanitarian assistance. The risks are both human as well as natural, including displacement and food insecurity. Human follies, system failures or political agendas are indicative of the Doomsday. Explosion in Beirut, religious supremacy hurting the sentiments of minorities in a secular state with snowballing momentum or loss of livelihood combined with loss of life are just ...

                An old tale of Mosque and temple A bazaar of contenders Turning the pages of History To approve or disapprove A scholar claimed,” The Mughals!   Babur or Aurangzeb.” An intellectual indicted, “A Buddhist site, Saketa.” A cleric suggested, “This is His birth place.”   Nine bricks for the foundation stone Chanting shlokas on internet Sacred water of holy rivers Sages and saints with sandal wood Ashes of devout devotees Ceremonial service of silver and fruits to the deity A new beginning to the repeated history     Dawning with Azan and Shlokas Serenity surrounds the sanctified selves    

        Now I am one of the pages in her pious book She meets me many a time a day I am a lifeless life to her only lifeline Blurry memories to her youth   I am a brown wrinkly envelope In me is a creased letter I came in her happy hands, forgotten years back Walking in beauty, she rushed to feel me She kissed me umpteen times Mutely repeated her rosary   I was the singing and sensation of her star The Soldier on the border His promise of holding her in his embrace Meeting her in the open terrace Locking the moments in one breath She had reached the wondrous world of dream land   She carried me to her bosom Within earshot I felt her heart beats Sweeping letters in the love letter   Duplicating words to her self End of the endless wait of her lover A crisp white envelope embossed for martyr’s sweet heart   Time creeped by in fidgety silence I am the last liaison of lovers Leafing the sc...

Little has changed, much is the same Once upon a time in the year 1918 Same pinch to the year 2020 The first rays of sunlight The chirping of the early birds The rustling of the leaves Buzzing honeybees, fluttering butterflies Eternal ecstasies of nature   Much has changed, little is the same Honking of the school bus Echoing of the school bell Fun and fights in Metros and local buses Tring-tring of the rickshaws Triple trips on bikes Joy rides in entertainment parks Splash rides in aqua parks Popcorns and Sodas in movie halls Burgers and pizzas in food courts   Little has changed, much is the same Earthen aroma after rainfall Rhythms and beats of tides Kissing and winking of the wind Clouds playing hide and seek with costars Shades of pink, pale or white Now crescent then round moon   Blanket of isolation wraps all Gregarious once now a ghostly dwelling Actor 2020 imitating 1918 Still Summer of 1918 Bid ad...