My City the Way I Want it to be

I pay no heed to your sneering, scornful pity
I will always love my beautiful city.
Where all are hailed as “Dadas” or “Didis”
Whether they are on foot or riding their Mercedes!
Made from three villages only a few centuries back,
My city is bound to be off the beaten track.
Its skyline would inspire Shelley’s skylark’s song,
Through the streets Eliot’s “insistent feet” trample along.
Fervent speeches are made here, on porches and in malls,
While rats and cockroaches entertain in the town halls!
“Hookahs” are equally popular in cafes and in slums,
Feet tap unconsciously to the beats of “tablas” as well as drums.
My city folk are not always as sugary and sweet,
Many varieties of which they love to eat;
“Singaras”, “Luchis” and “Cutlets” are their favourite too,
If you offend them I wouldn’t want to be in your shoe!
The pious and the aesthetes flock at Kalighat, Nakhoda and St.Paul’s,
With the less spiritual, night clubs, bars and the parks crawl!
Cynics may complain that it’s no longer Lapierre’s joyous city,
But it’s still the city I want it to be, from now till eternity.

Only in Dreams

The touch of an arm bent in a loving circle
Warm, strong..with its comforting fragrance.
A smile of pride caught from across the room,                          
A wink, a playful blink..
The voice of reason in the midst of turmoil..
Only in dreams.
A whiff of a tear, no fear, never fear.
The hard ground beneath the feet,
The soft lump of a moist palm..
Coolness, the untroubled calm,
Found both in hot seas and fresh springs.
Only in dreams.
Such tender emotions..such pain,
So much joy.
A whirlpool of colours, images
Each with so much meaning
Forgotten soon enough..yet remembered somewhere.
Only in dreams.
The leisurely walks, conversations,
Bursts of laughter, heated words..
Promises sealed with kisses,
Soft fleeting brush..of fingertips.
A day, an experience, a lifetime.
Only in dreams.
The young have fairy tales,
The old..in years and life, have dreams
Wake no more when all you want to do is sleep,
Dream on...only dream..

Paint

Close to the heavens….
In the land of hues
Where colours mix and churn
To create dreams
To create love, desire, hopes and laughter
The colours are like clouds…
Light and floating
They play around me, enveloping me,
Comforting me
But when I flail my hands my fingers grasp
Emptiness….
The colours smell sweet…
The fragrance reminds me of shimmering grass, blossoms
Babies in their cradles and
The playgrounds of my childhood days
The drops of colours are strewn all over
They wave in front of my eyes
Like a silken curtain blowing in the wind
I long for them…I crave…I have them…
But what shall I do with them?
What use are they to me?
I thought I lost all hope....but maybe....
Then give me a palette; give me a brush…a canvas
Let me paint

Changing Times

Changing thoughts and changing smiles,
Changing days and changing climes,
Changing shades and changing hues,
I am suffering from the “change-blues”!
Why does everything have to change? Why do relationships which were built, using the strong sturdy bricks of trust, love and mutual understanding have to grow cracks and crevices and finally crumble into rubbles of memory? Why does Fate and Providence always play with and tease us mercilessly? Constantly uprooting us from the stability and comfort of one social setting to another, making us start our life anew? I have spent thirteen years of my life at that school…thirteen years for God’s sake! Slowly carving a niche for myself in that institution. Building a personality, creating a jigsaw piece of myself so that I somehow “fit in”, becoming someone more or less everyone knew and accepted. Then bit by bit moulding one of the most important things in life- Relationships. Bonds…with teachers, classmates, schoolmates, domestic staff, even the bus driver. Each and every one who was a part of my life. They knew me and I knew them, their likes, dislikes, preferences, whims, trademark behaviour, idiosyncrasies, fears, hopes…everything was so secure, so smooth, so familiar.
Now, all that is left of those countless moments of the last thirteen years are memories and a gnawing ache in the stomach, a cold hard lump in the throat and hot searing tears always hiding behind my eyes. I tried not to let it slip by completely. I have grasped and groped vainly to hold on to those relationships, those friends, from disappearing from my life completely. But one can’t live in the past and keep up with Present’s pace at the same time. They moved on and so did I. All I can do now is pray for comfort, ask the Almighty to ease my pain…to give me new bricks to build my world anew.

To Grandpa, on his birthday

Yet another year of your life has ended
Bringing with it both sorrow and happiness, blended
So, my Dear Grandpa, I wish you Happy Birthday,
Though u don’t seem to happy today
You sit by the window brooding on days gone by,
Time and again I hear you sigh.
Today you should look back to the times, I say
When you brought on the face of a loved one, a smile, gay.
You say they no longer have any love or respect for you,
But even if they don’t, I still do.
So today I wish the world’s best Granddad,
A very happy birthday and a poem that I hope will make you glad.

I will miss you

My second home...out of which I moved out recently. I have loved you unconditionally for thirteen years. The only day on which I was reluctant to face you was the first day...when I cried profusely, refusing to let go of my parents hands and enter an unseen, unexplored phase of my life. You gave me an identity; you molded me into who I am today. Sometimes I found consolation in just a glimpse of your red and yellow walls, your long cool corridors, the noise made by the blend of different voices (which sounded melodious to my ears), the cheerful green lawns and the tall sturdy trees. People looking at you unemotionally will call you a building, a non-living entity which will one day join the dust on earth's surface. However, who cares what others think and say...to me you will be a being which no one else has ever been to me...a mother, father, friend and lover molded into one.

Defining me

If "to err is only human"...i am the most humane person alive!