…all the difference

Amidst the chirrups of men, I stand,
Thoroughly rooted in the land,
Seeing them all, from the azure sky
Through the years that have passed by.

It’s always the same old show,
For my entwined cousin and me,
Men scurrying in man – flow,
Bereft a waiting watch to see.

Men ought to slow down, sometimes,
Relish the trifling moments,
And ages and ages hence,
that would make all the difference.

The Dying Flame

Burned with an inspiring vigor,
Deserving respect & utter fear,
Purveyed own notions to each dunce,
When a young flame, he was once.

Now more senile and gray,
Full of morose, bereft veneration,
Arduous task is, a mere oration,
The dying flame, will douse any day.

Parched minds he quenched,
And anxious hearts he allayed;
Does the actor not deserve an aid,
For the act so well played?

The brain of the Soul

Fountain of farraginous feelings,

Unperturbed you are, yet unsettling;

Pumping life to decrepit flesh in whole,

Thou art truly, ‘The brain of the Soul’.

 

Rages, Envies, Hopes, Elations

The cradle of myriad emotions;

Lover dyad’s precious possession,

The lone reason behind each notion.

 

Sometimes you do break,

By betrayal or by life’s misery,

But alive or dead, still you make

The Job, serenely bearing the injury.

…that gradually cease.

Showering unto us from the bliss’s brink,

Umpteen drops of the elixir, the drink

To cure the decrepit body and heart,

Came the dusky cloud on heaven’s cart.

 

Tiny Mogras did toss their heads in glee,

And the bound denizens did feel free

From the grabs of sultry summer Sun,

Relishing fruits of wait, till the dawn.

 

For men may come and men may go,

But the life’s nature we ought to know

That, the only constant the Change is,

And mere others are, that gradually cease.

An Altercation

In the midst of silent night,

Inside a pouch of hide,

Erupted an intense fight,

As two egos did collide.

 

“I am new, I am new, and I am new,

I will always have a higher value.

I am all rich men’s choice.”

Claimed one, in an emphatic voice.

 

“Oh, flamboyant one! You,

In spirits paltry and quantum few,

But I am derelict’s voice.”

Retorted the other, bereft rejoice.

 

When the telly buzzed, the next day,

A reporter announced in great dismay,

“The Thousand, from now, is sure invalidated…”

Thus, the Hundred, finally had the contest dominated.

P.S. : Demonetization…

A mere Affirmation…

Damnation was his destiny,

For he dared to pick a vocation,

Precisely contrary to the anticipation

And that was his only felony.

 

A foray of bashing remark,

Pushed him into the dark.

In quietus, solace he found,

Lying on the splendid ground.

A silent figure concealed in shroud,

Reclined amidst the teeming crowd.

 

Once he was a cheerful lad,

Now a paltry cheerful dead.

Indeed, expensive was his supplication,

As he had sought a mere affirmation.

The lone Sentinel: Episode 9: Striding towards the Certitude…

It was a dimly lit, curtained chamber. The interiors harbored a silken divan and numerous canvases, portraying the expectations of the habitué of the place. But then, who would not pick a better choice as the connoisseur, who preferred to adore the tenderness of the shapely body of the ganika – prostitute, Vishakha, quenching his carnal desires with the elixir from her ambrosial lips, rather than admiring the smooth bed, an inanimate. It was a blissful experience for the man, but it was an obligation for Vishakha.

A sentry of the house arriving at the threshold of the chamber, signaled Vishakha to come out.

“My lord, would you please let me go off your formidable arms? I will be back in a moment” asked a subservient Vishakha.

“Why?” retorted the man.

“It seems, it is somewhat urgent, my lord, otherwise, I would not have been called up in the mid. It is against the policy of the house, you know, my lord. I will be back in no time.”

“Okay but be quick” sighed the man and Vishakha was elated at her temporary respite.

*******

“You will have go to the royal palace, it is the new king’s order” said the head mistress in a monotonous voice.

“King or a mere guard, all they need is, their lust pangs gratified. I will go but after I complete my duties here. I will go tomorrow, not today” said Vishakha.

“As you wish.”

*******

The next day, Vikram had called Vijaybhanu, the only person whom he trusted, for a meeting to discuss the future course of action.

“Pundit ji, I have eliminated Bahuruchi and his associates” coldly said the king, to which Vijaybhanu merely responded. So, he continued his monologue, “The state of the army is appalling. We need to forge new weapons, need more recruits, discipline the present men. So much to do, in so little time” stated a perplexed King. Vijaybhanu nodded in agreement and then replied, “But, I have managed to keep intact the competence of our spy network.”

“Yes Pundit ji, that is the only respite. What news they bring? I have some instructions for them.”

“The army of Jalandhar will reach our frontiers in three months. Total of one hundred and twenty thousand men comprise the army. We are outnumbered, effectively, by ratio three to one. They had seen a massive army, eager to plunder the riches of Adirajyam, loot the lives of the denizens of the kingdom. My king, please tell me about the instructions, I will pass it to them.”

“Oh…” sighed the king but continued, “Tell their commander to see me. I have a word for him.”

“As you command, King” said a puzzled pundit.

“There are other state matters that need your attention. Such as…” the pundit stopped, as he saw a guard enter the chamber.

“My King, the ganikaVishakha has arrived and is waiting” informed the sentry.

“Pundit ji, we will discuss all these later. Please excuse me. I need a break, now” Turning away from Vijaybhanu, he ordered, “Send her in.”

*******