The same bird sings in my garden
   as the morning sun its splendour spreads
   some flowers are in unabashed blossom
   the old lemon-tree some yellow leaves sheds

  a butterfly from nowhere
  settles on a rose motionless and serene
  I am writing this poem looking from my room
  the day's beauty has unfolded with such an unforgettable scene

My pen will not rest
and I must write
my imagination drives me
words begin to see the light

My heart speaks to me:
avoid the wrong, do the right
through my writing I delve into myself--
setting aside all that's blight.

Night digs deep
into your sub-conscious
which was asleep
in the day
it's an intruder
which has singled
you out for reasons
you can't  understand
it wants to know
your hidden secrets
and would not let you rest
until its mission is fulfilled

perhaps stripped
of your false exterior
and as the dust of the day
has fallen on your weary eyes
and you have drunk too much
(in these dark, sombre and lonely moments)
to soothe your pain
your defence mechanism
has broken down
(what's the harm now
of baring your heart
to an outsider?
you no longer
belong to yourself
and are opening up
as though seeking ablution)  

so you have no fear
in inviting the night
to take a journey
through your buried past
with its frightful shadows
and bleeding wounds
( the truth is
you need someone to share your thoughts)

now you are addressing the night
which is all ears and a sympathetic listener
even close to being a friend:

what had I done?
failed to do?
why my wayward ways?
why my follies and unkindness?
why did I hurt
and why they hurt me?

I have a thousand 'ifs'
and ten thousand 'buts'
as I walk back
to the confusing and muddled corridors of the past
do you hear me?
do you sense my despair and anger?
do you feel my hate raising its ominous head?
( by now, you are thinking I am a monster
and you are not wrong)

    You asked me
'Are you seeking redemption?
or is it too late now?'

   ( another glass of whisky down my throat)

I am drunk, dead drunk
I can't think
and why am I treating you
like a guest?

leave me alone

the moon seems to darken
and the stars are pointing
their sharp fingers at me

is all this but
a bad dream?

TO BE YOUNG

    To be young
    is never to think
    of old age and decay
    no such thing
    it's too far away
    (not worth thinking about)
    
     the eyes are eagle-sharp
     the senses keen
     the heart is passion-loaded
     yearnings soar to sublimest heights
     the blood rushes through every vein
     all that is
     is  quest for moments
    to outshine time
     love is proximity
    never too far
    
      the beauty of the world
     is too alluring
     love must be sought
     held and embraced
     the world is made for youth
     and youth alone
     it shines in matchless splendour
     so dazzling that it would burst into the open sky
    
     whoever hesitates
     has missed out the wine
     that flows from the fountain of life
    
     only regret to later inherit

     immortal are the songs
     of young hearts that vow
     never to relinquish love
     but to dwell in the luscious fields
     of Arcadia and to look back never

     what could match
    the first tender kiss
    under the moonlight
    beneath the willow-tree
    as two hearts embrace?

    because there is love
   there is beauty
   and beauty does not perish

   to be young
   is to believe
   that pain and suffering
   do not exist

   and to sing
   love is larger than life
   and  stronger
   than death itself

Marriage is fine
for some
but I had no education nor money
and far from being handsome

Fools  make small and innocent mistakes
all the while
but the follies of the wise
stretch mile after mile

A fool I know gives
half his monthly salary to charity
while we the ones with wisdom look away
as we don't subscribe to such benevolent philosophy

In the corridors of knowledge
the scholars and the smart loudly argue and proudly sit
I tremble when I walk by and don't dare raise an eye
as I know I've none of their wit

The leaders say they have all the answers
then why is the world in such a sad mess?
are they wise or are they fools?
I have no wisdom and nothing to address

I've been a fool all my life
it does no harm to me
the world is the domain of the smart
such people have my fullest pity

Does the fool have any friend
under the sun?
being self-sufficient and away from the world's madness
he really needs none

Does the fool
have a brain?
you snob, you brute
I'll box you if you say this again!

None  does care about the fool
no enemies come his way
he wears contentment and a self-satisfied smile
ye wise philosophers--what have you to say?

The fool walks alone
     stripped of falsehood, envy and hypocrisy
     he finds happiness along the way
     though mocked and frowned upon by society

The world is no morality ground and holds no rule
        for me but despair;  my hope is in choosing to be a fool

1

The race is won not by the fastest
but by the one who is the wisest.

2
None can control the growth of population
'tis due to ubiquitous copulation

3

Note: knowledge does not set you free
the best path is through honesty

4  
      Hurry, hurry, hurry
      today's great malady

5
      In the club your friends were laughing at you
      They whispered 'Stale jokes, nothing ever new'

1

If you know how to simplify
your problems will not multiply

2
Because you see with one eye only
the horizon surely looks blurry

3
He is truly wise
who gives no advice

4

If you don't seize opportunity
it will fly to someone too quickly

5
You are your own teacher
that's all, go no further

1
Sigmund Freud's sexuality theory--
not everyone could agree with or applaud
some critics wrote derisively :
'His name should have been spelt Sickman Fraud'.

2

Freud was fixated on ***
that constituted an obsession
did he become so
due to his own repression?

3

Freud: Religion is like childhood neurosis
a statement too brash and bold
if there were a heaven
he would be left out in the cold.

4
Freud's home was full of antiques of all types
was he a compulsive hoarder?
how should he label himself?
can we say  his mind was in complete order?

5
If you could understand
Freud's theories on id, ego, super-ego
you would get closer  to being a shrink
some say--that's all you need to know.

1
The shrink told his nurse
'I must go home---I've something on my mind'
'What's worrying you Doctor?'
His reply: 'I left my alter ego behind'

2
The shrink said to his patient
'Let me put on my glove before I shake your hand--please excuse me'
The latter asked: ' Is there something wrong with me?'
The good doctor replied: ' Oh no, it's just that I suffer from OCD'.

3

The shrink said to his nurse
'   I am going on leave---working too hard I think'
'To America, Europe or Asia?' she enquired
The boss replied: ' Oh no, I need to see a shrink'.

4
Patient to the shrink
' Doctor, are you Freudian, Jungian or Adlerian? '
Reply: ' I am not sure--those buggers
Are just as mad as I am--I really don't have an opinion'

5

The shrink could not marry
He was afraid of the female ***
He told his colleague
'  Last night, I dreamt a woman was chasing me with an axe!'

China of old was a nation
of traditional avid tea-drinkers
when foreign alcoholic drinks were brought in
the Chinese turned into tea--totallers.

1

The animals in the jungle ran away
when Tarzan appeared on the scene
it wasn't that he was stronger but rather
those four-legged creatures thought his semi-nakedness was obscene.

2
Food was scarce in a certain season
Tarzan went into a rage as Cheeta wanted all
he took his knife aimed at the cheeky chimp
and said:  this shall cause your downfall!

3

Tarzan and Jane-whatever you think-
were human and must yield to passion
their shelter in the tree shook every night
but the animals paid no attention

4

Jane loved to play with Cheeta
Tarzan liked to swing from tree to tree
since Cheeta's arrival their relationship suffered badly
as he turned green with envy

5
   Tarzan asked Jane where Hollywood was
   She replied: ' I worry about your failing memory
   Holy Wood is the jungle- habitat of your cousin Zantar
   his wife is Nancy--we once spent Christmas at their home named Ever-Free'.

1

Why was it that Tarzan
only did one loincloth wear?
answer:  
there was no clothes-shop there

2

Do you know Tarzan had a terrible phobia?
if you must know---it lasted for a long while-
a strong swimmer he was but  devastated by this condition
as once he was nearly swallowed up by an 8-metre crocodile

3      Bringing home Cheeta the naughty little chimpanzee
         was the idea of Jane
         who said to Tarzan--we had enough of each other--
         without Cheeta we would go insane!

4    
        Why was it Tarzan and Jane
        didn't raise a family?
         they were fighting the animal-poachers
         all day long--too busy!

5
          Of course Tarzan and Jane
          lived together in the tree
          they needed no beds
          but were content and happy

Forgetting
is harder
than remembering
the past has secret powers
and spellbinds you
it makes you
a captive
and demands attention:
surely you can't forget this?

in the far horizon
of your mind
dim and fuzzy at first
then the images
coalesce into visible forms
they stare right in your face
and you become
the past tense

none
indeed nothing
is stronger than the past

'I have forgotten the past'
who says that?
isn't that person
telling a lie?

They say :
discard the old
herald in the new
we are  easily misled
unless we are vigilant
we would be fooled

the new
is too often
a disguised
and revised version
of the old

but the vendors
of merchandise
the purveyors
of ideas and doctrines
are sugar-coaters
and how easily
we become suckers


they say
reject
and be ashamed
of the old
(people are watching you
  how deplorable and wretched
you look clinging to what went before
you are archaic and out-of-step
with the modern era--no wonder
you are frowned upon
and become the laughing-stock of those around you)

but I hold my ground
and to such I reply
I like the old clothes and shoes I wear
my little cottage known to none in the faraway
I love my old-fashioned values
honesty, compassion, tolerance, humility
fair-play,  tradition, decency,  loyalty and poverty

I am self-sufficient
in every way
and what you sell
I wouldn't buy
nor to your sweet words subscribe
lest they cause my moral demise
so leave me alone
to my old ways
and my quiet life
I am doing superbly fine.

LIFE: THROUGH  MY EYES

Forget, better still ignore
what the great philosophers had said
life is but a point of view
only I and I alone can shed

meaning from my experiences
unique, individual, lonely and tumultuous
life is in the singular and the roads
I have travelled are unknown to the multitudinous

no outsider heard me cry nor witnessed my tears
like a caged animal how often I had been trapped with my hands tied
also  imminently close to drowning and I struggled against the tide
my freedom to regain---every means I courageously tried

and promised myself with the words
'   I was not born to yield
   ( proud philosophy is no comfort nor succour)
    I  was victorious as I fought without fear in life's battle-field'.

1

You asked me
' Why does a bird sing?'
May I ask you
'  Can a bird fly with one wing?'

2
My friend is a philosopher
And this he said to me: Life is neither black nor white'
But I am illiterate and all I know is that
Life is just day and night.

3  

Why do you chuckle
Just because your neighbour's new Benz had a knock?
Why are you so churlish and callous
Are you a human being or an unfeeling rock?

4

Her shoes did not fit
Too large were her feet--she was frantic
None to blame but her cobbler-husband
Who had not acquired the requisite shoe-making technique.

5

Some have *** once a month, others weekly
Yet others everyday--what does it matter
To you? Let people be-
Why do you bother? You are an outsider!

Old age is not being
young but look at its luxuriant tree
where its fruits have ripened
and its leaves are still as green
it's the same breeze as of old
blowing above its head
and the sky is as blue
and bird-songs by night
are still as sweet
as reminders
that all life is wrapped in rapture
and earth has not lost its pristine  music and grandeur

each stage of life has its  untold splendour
only that the heart must feel and embrace love
and the mind be free and hasn't given up
in despondency (I've had enough of this chagrin-
drop that line)
say instead--
I love life and its endless beauty
I would still bathe in its sea of wondrous delight
I would bask under the sun amidst the dancing flowers
have conversation with the moon and stars late at night
I would still sing the songs I love
and give life to my violin- lest it thinks I have lost faith-
with my shaky hands I would write a poem or two-
never mind if they are frowned upon by others
I would still smile despite the wrinkles on my face
and my grey hair so conspicuous to the eye
I would share in the laughter of youth
among the middle-aged mingle
and with those in my twilight years
laugh at the folly and pride of my early days
and hear their stories spoken
with slow and subdued voices
but no less poignant

I am alive and not left behind
I am there in the arena of life
though not as a player
but  only a spectator

if you do see a silent tear
dropping from my eyes
just know-
it's the tear of gratitude and joy

Why am I looking at this drawer
  and am afraid of its contents?
  over 60  love-letters of long ago
  which I could repeat almost by heart
  ( I kept every envelope as well-
    time, date received, year written thereon
   in my best hand
   as though they were worth more than diamonds)
  several containing crushed roses
  a few poems of Robert Browning
  Keats, Byron, sonnets of Shakespeare
  Yeats,  Donne, Thomas Hardy, John Clare..
  every letter a reminder
  of youth's once tender kisses
   solemn vows
  and secret words exchanged
  that could never be shared
  with anyone
  (love is too personal-
   a sacred pledge of hearts
   never to be broken)

    vanished are the dreams of youth
   I am old and weary now

    no longer the proud lover
    but a cynic
    no longer a believer
   in the glory of love-poems
  and stories of romance
  (yes---love is not a fairy-tale
   and all love stories should end
   with this sentence:
  ...and they lived with regret and sorrow thereafter...)

    words are just words
spoken at convenience
for the sake of the speaker
words are selfish
though the speaker knows not

she wrote and spoke more poignantly
than I ever could
she was mistress of words
she wrote as though
she was consumed by the fire of love
and would die in  its burning furnace
for my sake
all for my sake
' I would die for love
and for you, dearest
for you are my life
the very air I breathe...'

(I wept then as those words I read-
I memorised every word )

   Is love but sweet words
  to be forgotten ?
  
  I shouldn't open the drawer
  lest I begin to attribute blame
je deteste?  deja vu? chagrin d'mour?

I was about to stretch out
my hand ...
but my faithful wife called
from the kitchen
' why are you lingering in your study?
  darling, dinner is ready--your favourite chicken curry!'

Too long have I lived
in the wilderness
I find it hard now to speak
the human tongue
nay, even basic words
I've forgotten

the winds and the trees
the moon and the stars
the clouds and the night
the dust blown in the air
even shadows and silhouettes
they've given me a new vocabulary
I am an exile
in another trajectory
but I've chosen this as my home
and am free
and how could one be happy
amidst noisy crowds
in so-called civilised society?

In losing myself
I've at last
found my true identity

The wilderness
is home to me--this oblivion I have chosen
it's no man's station
but I need no conversation

have heard every spoken human word
till no more could I bear
ah, the soothing balm of silence
in emptiness there's no earthly care

The worst place
to be
is where I don't belong
where I cease to be free

and those who claim
to be in authority
announce loudly:
you ****, get out--- immediately!

The best place
to be
is no place anywhere
it's within me

the space
that's within me
has no face
it's my invisible identity

You my pupils asked
' Do you have doubts, Master?'
  My answer: 'They are my starting point
  Without which I could go no further

In its crucible
Dissolves the dust and gold
Crystallises--those who think they
Know all---they fool themselves a thousand-fold'

I live by the rules of nature and its rhythm I follow
I don't complain whether the weather is cold
or hot--I quietly do my day's job and find solace
in good deeds--I learn from masters of old

to whom I owe the greatest debt
in your diligence you knowledge will grow
I am but the planter of the seeds through my teaching
you will leave here with wisdom and set examples for others to follow

I can only teach you what I know
if I don't know, I seek to know
and I'll tell you what I don't know
that's the only way I can grow

in understanding--to lie
to myself and to you is worst than to die
that is the reason why
I never cease to strive and  try

I would not your teacher be
if you don't come in humility
learning is of no utility
unless you can acquire morality

Life is all about you, your values, family,
community, society and country
know yourself, know duty and one day you will be
a role-model, admired for now and all posterity.

You say you know
how do you know you know?
who are the people who say so?

but others know
you don't know
but don't want to let you know
that they know

while you don't know
others do know
that you don't know

thus, not knowing
you don't know
does (in the eyes of others) show
you are foolish and shallow

while they who know
that you don't know
will use what they know
to exploit your weakness
wherever you are or wherever you go

your life's battle is lost because
you don't know
that you don't know

and by the time you wake up
from your not-knowing
to knowing
the show is over
and you are left with
NOTHING!

Know when to speak
and when to refrain
think before words leave your mouth
lest you incur wrath and pain

Study the situation
is it timely to speak or refrain?
have you considered every angle
or should you think again?

Come, meet me tonight
when the stars and the moon have gone to sleep
bring nothing but your true and sincere heart
faith let us never forget to keep

till new stars are born on high
and the moon has put on a brighter look
we shall dance in the firmament beyond time
and together write love's most beautiful book.

1
Children by the sea
counting pebbles one by one
their mothers watch on

2
Silence in the wood
a bird flits from tree to tree
shaking a few leaves

3  
Rain beats on the door
leaves tremble in the night air
the dog sleeps soundly

4
Evening church bells
choristers' songs fill the air
the faithful gather

5

At the barber-shop
click click click go the scissors
the combing comes last

Lead me not into temptation
I am not an 'into-money' man
You are an investment advisor
You say you have the best plan

for me--you do care
for my financial welfare
one dollar of investment will turn into five
' the best deal anywhere'

and I begin to wonder
why don't you borrow from your granny
sell your wife's wedding-ring and your house
since you say this is 'sure money'?

six of my uni-mates went broke
and three went to jail last year
they were all into 'high finance'
sorry, for them I don't even shed a tear.

Say hello
  to the moment
stretch out your hand
and you say with an open heart
what's in for us?

it replies
well--it's just you and me
I am the stage
you are the actor
I can't even raise a finger
unless you make the first move
there is no show without you
I have no life nor delight
of my own

no philosopher am I
call me an ordinary bloke
I didn't go to college
(just an average student-
finished high school at 17
poor family I came from
  dad was an odd-jobs man)
I held several jobs
but disliked working for others
now a farmer
with a helping wife
(we have two kids--very young still-
one boy and one girl-
we adore them)
we earn enough
decent living as the saying goes

I wake up early
and hello to my farm I say
I talk to the plants (they grow better
as they understand what I say)

after harvest
to the town I take my produce
and then I say hello
to the people who walk by
and they say hello in reply
these are great things
you bring--I'll have these two
also that over there
hello- what a magnificent word
just the sound makes me happy
and I am in the day's doing-show

to me
life is just saying hello
I have an unwritten alliance
with moments in time
they are with me
wherever I am
and wherever I go.

You hear my pretty words
but can't read my mind
deception is my art
I leave truth behind

people love me
they say I am kind
poor believers
truth--blind!

LIFE AS A SCORE-BOARD?
    
    Why treat life
    as a score-board?
    with pen and paper
    adding up the points
    grumbling when you fall short
    every dart you throw
    is like one in vengeance
    with bloodshot and greedy eyes
    score
    score
    score
    more
    more
    more

and when the mark you missed
anger and shame swell in your face
like one consigned to disgrace
and you got terribly ******

   why treat life
   as a source
   of self-satisfaction
   and self-glorification?
   you feel good
   like a Napoleon
   or Alexander The Great
   when those around applaud
   your feat and prowess
  
   but
   too soon
   the night dissolves
   everyone in the bar
   is tired of the silly game you play
   enough drinks and folly
   for the night
   they start to walk away

   in the dart-room
   you are playing a game
   no one does bother to care
   and soon enough forgets your name

Stopping by in quest of wonder
is ever
a new experience
never
ceases
to delight
he who knocks on life's door
is granted entry--be it day or night

PRUDENCE

I paused and took a step back
I looked around and was unsure
' You're a coward ' my critics chided
I replied: ' For folly there's no cure'.

Prudence has taught me
Life's prizes and trophies are never easy to secure
I've seen so many mighty giants fall by the roadside-
They were too arrogant and too cocksure.

BEYOND THE RAINBOW OF OUR DREAMS

         Beyond the rainbow of our dreams
         we'll build our home and together share
         the light of the moon and stars
         fly among the clouds as a pair
        
         of love-birds carefree and oblivious
         to time--the holiness of the heart's affection
         the whole universe encompasses
         love is truly ceaseless adoration
        
         guided by faith that serves only to strengthen
         this sacred bond to which we are sworn
         no longer shall we be earth-bound
         but to a celestial life reborn

         behind the veil of time abides
         love's sweetest mystery
         beyond the rainbow of our dreams
         sublime beauty belongs only to you and me.

Catch every moment
time does fly
embrace love
lest it should pass you by

having courted and won over love
faith you shouldn't leave behind
constancy never fails in duty
affection outlasts time and is forever kind.

WORDS
Words are meant not for truth
but for deception and self-justification
the most used and refined human tool
the product of the highest civilisation.

Be a master of this art
all else you can set aside then
the crown of life you will wear
you will be the leader of all men.

PRISONERS
Men are born free
but everywhere are in chains
thus wrote Rousseau--I take the point further-
upon themselves they inflict pains

in being prisoners of time
which with a sword of Damocles hangs
over every head and herds them into closed barns
where they sigh and lament in silent pangs

of anguish with no hope to be free
they have lost the will to fight
to regain that which was once their heritage
and fundamental right

men are born free
but by the loss of freedom they are condemned
time is the slayer--would they wake up
some day and look upon time with contempt?