Thursday, September 18, 2008

The Man on the Sand

Daily, in afternoon when I go for prayer,
I see a man lying on the sand bare;
He seems a clear victim of tiredness,
With his loose body lost in sleepiness;

He has a green color shirt on his body,
And a white turban like a head with eddy;
With an unshaven beard loosen to grow,
Covering his face like a black color of crow;

The dust and smoke of the vehicles touch him,
They add to the sand and reach its brim;
The noise as usual howls around,
With a crazy tone and bitter sound;

When I return from the prayer he still sleeps,
In the bed of sand with long leaps;
I never see him awake on the sand,
He always rests in his own dream land.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Girl down the Hill

Down the hill there plays a girl,
Outside a little cottage with her hairs curl;
Her skin color is chocolate brown,
Suits her white frock from up to down;

Her teeth spark behind her lips,
Through which her sweet voice slips;
The nose is just small and round,
Which she pinches with a nosy sound;

She rolls her eyes between the closed eyelids,
And jumps on her little feet like tiny kids;
Clapping her hands on each other,
Lost in her girlhood with nothing to bother;

Her cheeks are soft and very chubby,
Which others press with some scrubby;
She tries to beat others with her little hands,
When they tease her outside the cottage lands;

When she tires and gives her guts,
From the outsiders which behave as nuts;
She screams and calls her only father,
And I run from my cottage to behold my daughter.

Saturday, September 13, 2008


Many like money,
And some like honey;
All like diamonds,
But few like almonds;

The way of life is like such,
With values aside and money kept much;
Deriving income is the goal of future,
Surviving on sources is the law of nature;

New things are sold,
But the olds are gold;
The time flashes back,
And water splashes on the rack;

For some its good relations forever,
And some like good food ending never;
Crowd is full of people who like racing bikes,
Many are those who live for salary hikes;

See the universe full of likes and dislikes,
Let’s follow our choice and keep aside spikes;
The values have become dull and they fly like feather,
Let’s pay them importance and fill them with heather.


Why not wear a shirt with broad collars,
With a low waist jeans of million dollars;

Why not the ties have some designs,
Just like flowers, circles and lines.

Why not cover the waist with belt,
Slippery, shiny and smooth its felt;

Why not the cap covers the hair,
And the person looks tall and fair;

Why not the fingers hold the rings,
With golden touch and diamond it sings;

Why not the shirt in and the T-shirt out,
You can be funky or be a scout;

Common, common lets go for this attire
Just bother nothing and follow your desire.

Friday, September 12, 2008

The Prayer

One night, when I was going to sleep,
The time was moving fast with a leap;
I turned the lamp off and everywhere it was dark,
But some light was coming from my son’s room with a spark;

I quietly walked to know the matter,
I never knew what will I see latter;
Nearing the room, I heard some voice,
I peeped through the door with no other choice;

I saw my five year son on the praying carpet,
Last week which I bought from the market;
He was joining his hands and praying to God,
And asking something from the almighty Lord;

“Oh! God please make me like my father,
Strong, powerful and caring for ever;
He who made my wishes come true,
Holding my hands in his hue”;

I saw his cheeks full of watery drops,
In the yellow light and pearly tops;
I thought a little and closed the door,
I walked back on the wetted floor;

I went to my room and sat on the praying carpet,
I joined my hands with my prayer favorite;
“Oh! God please make me like my son,
Innocent, caring and lovely than anyone”.