Comment


Each time I see my profile pic
And an inviting blank space
Below each and every post
By those unknown ‘post’ers,
My heart starts pounding –
How should I comment on…

the lady who made dosa today,

the girls who had cupcakes and selfies,

the boys who tried beer and adventure,

the man who stood beside a Rolls Royce,

the activist who was infuriated,

the journalist who was ‘enlightened’,

the teacher who came across

another meme that resonated,

the business man who hosted

another dinner for the celebrities?

My material soul utters scornfully:
Loser, it’s your turn to impress.

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My Files


Thus I was born with
those few basic programmes.

As voices and visuals poured in
I felt I got access to more.

Later I had my own words
Making me edit, delete,
Update and add more.

More faces, words, deeds
Knowledge, experiences –
The evolving continued.

Then the teenage rebellion!

The ordeals of life
Overhauled them often.

At times they were futile
Making me look pathetic.

Now here I am today,
digging into the enormous,
tangled pile of life files
searching frantically for
my disaster management docs!

‘Alarm’ing!


I hate him –
the rigid precisionist
who axed the climax
of my thriller dream.

I tried feigning sleep
but the unkindest cut
was too loud, fatal,
leaving me ‘clueless’!

Now who will tell me
what happened to me
after I came out of
the palace-cum-barn-cum-mountain?

 

 

 

 

Anarchy


Control – iron-fisted!
Power – absolute!

Perspectives mutate,
Priorities shuffle,
Focus shifts,
Vision blurs,
Mind shrinks,
Greed roots,
Anarchy thrives.

His heaven
Our hell!

Windows and messengers


Her post inspired me to look
out the window
And enjoy the greenery.
So I did look – knowing
No treats awaited me.

Ah! Sky! Cloudy,
Not the sign of an impending rain,
They say the roaming choppers
Chop the pregnant clouds
To save all the million-dollar constructions.
Some say they are ‘poisoned’, aborted.
Anyway, they seldom deliver – anything!

Ah! The next apartment block,
where our ‘neighbours’ live.
The windows shut forever
never frame any face,
because they had given up long back.

Ah! The narrow empty space
around our building,
Where a garden could thrive,
Where we could have some benches.
But all I can see are the ghosts
Of the industrial sewing machines
Abandoned by the cobblers all around.
Sometimes I hear the cats,
but today no cats even.

Now, reluctant to surrender,
I repeat the exercise.
Ah! Two pigeons on the neighbour’s A/c unit!
They are not green,
but they are at least full of life!

Julia, did you
send those messengers for me?

I wish to believe you did.
So, thank you, dear!

Escape Velocity


It’s almost an hour.
I am speaking to her.
Trying my best
to get to the core.

Discuss, motivate, encourage,
beg, empathize, sympathize,
agitate, provoke, admonish.
But nothing cracks through.

She’s so calloused.

About to give up,
Desperate,
One last question
out of the blue!

Voila!

The escape velocity attained.
Tears, disclosures, confessions.

Two souls
Over the moon.

Experiment


She is in the lab
Doing an experiment
For the first time
in her life.

She is confident
Yet, from time to time
she cross checks
With her Guru.

The powders measured
like gold, with utmost care,
since she fears
Even the minute variations
may affect the final outcome.

And it is ready !

The testing –
the tasting.

The verdict –

Aha! That’s my cup of tea!

[That was my daughter making her first cup of tea for her father, just now! 🙂]

Now I know what’s wrong with those doctors


(STORIES FROM THE SCHOOL – III)

Unit: The Road Not Taken

What’s your ambition?(The same old innocent question)

I was pretty sure of the statistics for the answers.

As usual one-third of the class proudly claimed they want to be doctors. What kind? No idea. That’s fine.

Each one of you loves to be one? What’s the main attraction?

Yes!! Money!

And the prestige?

Yes, yes, of course!!

So that means you would ‘love’ to be with sick people all your working hours? How many of you – now?

*

*

*

To my utter dismay, NOT A SINGLE ONE OF THEM!

Oh, what did I do? Did I ruthlessly eradicate a batch of doctors? Sorry, that was not my intention.

Wait! There were two – but one,  a wannabe politician and the other a wannabe journalist. But a politician… and a journalist… and the sick…?

Think of that teacher who doesn’t want to be with students, that salesman who doesn’t want to be with customers, that vet who doesn’t want to be with animals…

Now I know what’s wrong with the doctors these days.

Now I am thinking what I can do to help (at least some of) my wannabe doctors to be REAL doctors.

Tell me your secrets


I could hear Wind roaring
In languages unknown to me.

It was lonely –
Lonely as the cold desert!

Sometimes loud and scary
At times silent and creepy.

I could feel
His dry tears of loss.

I was weather-beaten,
And my brain – tired!

I tried and tried
Oh, but Wind
Never let me
Know his secrets!

SOS


(STORIES FROM THE SCHOOL – II)

Girl 1

She couldn’t answer –
Today too!

Meet me later.

What is the problem, dear?

I’m sc..a..r..ed..

Hmm… no more questions.
Let me know when you are ready.

Girl 2

She was late again-
Third day in a row.

Why?
No reply – as usual.

Her shabby uniform,
Skinny frame,
Terrified looks
Were no good signs.
Time to poke my nose.