Reflections

This is my poem as an engineer, toiling on a construction site in a refinery.

100 miles away I stay
yearning for you, in a pipe jungle
waiting for my project to get over
to meet you and embrace you my dear

Things are glaring, contrasting too
the world colourful with you but on site, so very blue
Difference such stark
and life without a spark

The dull grey , coarse and rude concrete
antonymous to your long silky wisps of night
The din of hydra and the roar of poclain
can however never silence your singsong strain

Your adorable chiding against the abominable cacophony of workers
echoes silently in my ears
perhaps I could get lost in dimples on your cheeks
which somehow seem deeper than 44.8 feet.

The starving tedious night shifts
leave me reminiscing about those evenings
The romantic evenings we spent by the sea bay
rather than standing over bentonite clay

Girl, you re dear to me
but so is the project to my manager
I yearn to be by your side
while manager wants me to supervise the ongoing piles

Caught between the two
Engineering in the industry and engineering my thoughts
Between my manager, industry, pipes and workers
Thinking about you, I get lost

Mumbai Under Siege

The daybreak couldn’t have been any worse
When Mumbai came under the sordid curse
The city that never sleeps
Began to bleed and weep
The clandestine operation wreaked devastation
While the terrorists, celebrated the success of their revelation
Unleashing an unpardonable diktat
They draped Mumbai in blood red pallor
A thousand emotions came to the fore
Desperation, fear, anger and despair
While the innocent people were gunned and shelled to death
The grand Oberoi and majestic Taj, lay humbled to dirt.
Then there were the revered Jawans
Who pawned their lives, fighting with spirits
Saving the countrymen and the nation
They command respect and adulation
The media too played its role
Poking its filthy, vulture like nose
Ostensibly it sensitized the masses
No less playing with the people’s emotions
Where are the statesmen in the hour of need??
When people are dying irrespective of region, religion or creed
Amassing votes and wealth was always the priority
Has the crisis handicapped the members of our polity?
Whose was the onus is not the question to be ploughed
Neither Security nor intelligence should be blamed now
Terrorism has challenged not just our security
But also questioned our nation’s integrity
A jehad, islam, hindutva or a sangh
Should never have the courage to cause another 26/11
This time lets not just hope, things go well
But vouch for a country where peace eternally dwells
It is our honesty that can change our country
All we need is a little rationality
Lets be a better democracy and challenge the perverted authority
Terrorism should then have no autocracy.

SOLITUDE

Thinking I lay conscious of my solitude
Silence prevails and so does a sense of revelation
Myriad thoughts cross my mind
Horizon is mine and inhibitions an oblivion
Hope abundant and fear redundant
Solitude-That's when I am me sans pretence
A little introspection mirrors my inner self
My weakness weakens and strengths dwell
Tranquility obliterates my inner turmoil
Quiet magnifies my inner voice and I meditate to spurn the worldly noise
All those moments are mine during solitude
Brief, yet divine interlude

THE LILY

Symbol of peace
beneath the tall trees
stood in solitude
a lily in bloom

I stood spell bound
enchanted by its mysticcharm
I felt overwhelmed
with emotions strong and warm
I know it was the lily which had moved me

I could see the gentle flower
embellishing the beauty of the bower
I wondered how aesthetic God could be
for he created the beautiful lily

THE CHRISTMAS

Far in the west
Christmas bells chime
festivity and gaiety
summarises the yuletide fervor.
its merry time for Christopher
for its the Christmas supper
his eyes twinkle with joy
his family warm and cozy
in reverence to Christ
the rosary and the cross
clutched in his tiny hands
Christopher prays in the "holy lands"
Fathima too celebrates the occasion
in the soils of Mesopotamia
though with a little difference
for her its an alien tradition
But Santa Claus is cross
with little Fatima lass
because he took away her possessions
peace, happiness, home and parents
destitute and desperate
Fatima cries at her fate
was it God or the statesmen
who had forced on her this testament??
the war has ended her life
war fought for power...
their arrogance is her destiny
luckily she is still blessed with mortality
so on the holy day of Christmas
Christopher wishes for gifts
while Fatima awaits her DEATH
for death alone can bring life to her soul.

THE MARTYR

Gallantly he faced the army
valorous and selfless
emboldened he led the masses
against the Britishers for independence
he convinced poeple, educated them
inspired them and heralded a revolution
to throw away the foreign yoke, he took a resolution
to regain our soil, independence and control,
sacrifices he made, effacing was he
with unwavering zest,he bore bullets in his chest
and gave his life for the nation.
Martyr was he, who could he be?
tyranically whom the britishers did slay
none than my ten year old cousin in his school play.

SIN

Thinking as you lie down
as minutes trickle away
Your conscience detesting you
and repugnance overpowering too.

a mere choice of ecstacy
and fulfillment of carnal desires
your ardour and passion
have earned you revulsion

you lie on your death bed
weighed down by your infidelity
an acronym AIDS now manoeuvres your life
while remorse tears you apart

your soon to be widow's tears
could never wash away your sin
she can now only worry
about your soon to be orphaned son.

RAIN

Melancholic palor draped the village
silence deafening and intimidating
despair loomed large and sorrow adrift in air
voices muffled with hunger and sadness
perhaps couldnt reach the almighty
peasants looked upto the vastness
hoping to find the obstinate rains and the eluding divine
but the ball of blinding incandescence
sordidly continued its lurid sorcery
the fields lay barren and parched
and aridity was the unwielding monarch
no sign of grrenery, no sign of life.
But then the miracle happened
somberly the sun was obscured
tiny drops of nectar fell to the earth
bringing hope till now dearth.
sprang up the life
rejoiced the peasants
life seemed possible and the divine merciful.