RAT RACE

Deep into the night...

As the world goes still...
The rat race heavy on his mind...
The poor student reads on... Till...
Dawn beckons...
And the rat reckons,
That yet another Day has gone by...
And yet the goal seems but a distant dream...
Like a mirage playing games with the thirsty's schemes...
Dawn never felt so insipid before...
And all this to improve my score...
An exam I wish I didn't have to write...
Why! I was happier in my higher flights...













GET GOING
A shadow of his former self
Stared down his shoulders...
And asked him what he had made of himself,
All these years smashing against the boulders...

He replied that He had learnt
Lessons of Life, pitting himself against the odds,
And his desires he had burnt,
In the flames unleashed by the Gods

He agreed, that He had lost more than he had gained,
In this trial, all along believing his karma to be the culprit,
But how was He to know the will of His which reigned,
Across the three worlds, Who unfailingly does His grace remit

When it but dawned on Him,
It was the proverbial never-too-late that struck,
A chord within, And set Him on a Circadian Rhythm,
Of sorts, A Rhythm which provides both lack and Luck

Hope my story inspires others, and never does perish,
And You too can do it my friend, if you only so do wish















THE POOR MANS SONG
The chills got me started;
And all other thoughts departed;
To make way for a poor man's song;
To let them know it's not just winter over here for the Bong...

It's a realization of the fact;
That while you lie idling in your blanket so cosy;
And dream dreams so rosy;
People out there are struggling to make it to the next morning, intact...

But the God, ever so cruel,
Shall not spare some...
They could have made it with a little fuel;
Or maybe a little rum;

But it wasn't to be...
Yes, some shall depart;
And in the wee hours of the night, all of this, through the mind's eye I see,
And go back to sleep, with a heavy heart.......
















ON EMPATHY
In times of grief and sorrow;
When it seems like theres no tomorrow,
You find a friend who cares,
For he himself stares,
At defeat as do you

A friend who himself is;
At the zenith, should least be bothered,
When you are ill-at-ease

How is it then, that the columnists,
Dare speak;
Of issues with alacrity and insight keen,
Perhaps even drawing a comment or two;
From over-zealous patriots bent on reforms..

Only if they could but stay a single night;
In the tin-sheds on which they throw light

I should too start thinking of changing my occupation;
And take up writing for my profession.












Written on the occasion on Anna Hazare parting ways with Arvind And Co
A tragedy averted in the nick of time,
You proved your worth to the last dime,
When in unison, you led the chase,
In the face of discord, you gently parted ways...

Such should indeed be the spirit, O' brave,
Of my fellow countrymen who cry for change,
Only if they knew that the war they wage,
Must first be fought within this bodily cage...






















ADOLESCENCE
A veil of insecurity;
That hangs over us....
Once we step out of puberty...
Into the wilderness....

Rarely do we pause to look...
And ask ourselves...
Whether the innocence we left behind...
Would ever be a part of our selves...

Is it not an irony then,
that we should talk of being secure,
And then cover our visages with a veil,
Of security,
Which so very easily gives us away,
And makes the viewer feel,
Where does the road to child-like innocence lay....

















MOTIVATION
When in high spirits,
Keep them high;
when your spirit's sagging,
take a deep sigh....

A bit high and a bit low,
That's how it all goes,

For that's God's way of keeping you...

On your toes......