In the Hot Summer

The sun mounts high
It blazes down on the floors
The children scurry by
Everyone has to be indoors

All the plants are adust
Temperature rises by degrees
Mulch thobs by gust
Wind is sighing in the trees

The men carpet mats
Lying in shodow they doze
Pests are the buzzing gnats
They deprive them of repose

Buffaloes let out gasp
Sheep squabble over water
On brims birds clasp
And each other they slaughter

A hot wind inflicts harms
Dust is carried by whirlwinds
Boys rush into farms
Eat up melons and leave rinds

Water begins to boil
Every drop ends up in smoke
It is the sons of soil
Who burn in heat and go broke

This is no less drought
Months ahead is the rain
Yet Karanj stands out
Blossomed in thirsty terrene.

S. Bharat

The Rainy Summer

In shower of raindrops
I see the dancing tufts of grass,
Under the shaky trees
Lying a huge flower fruit mass.
In midst of stormy wind
I plod through the mud.
Frozen is the cow,
Standstill buffalo and stud.
The rain begins to pelt down;
I cover myself with the sack.
During dark drizzly night,
The absence of light
Takes me into the past far back.
The lull song for me
Is sung by the frog-choir.
Soon I fall asleep
That crickets and fireflies admire.

S. Bharat

In the House

Away from them
I always walk.
Wherever I go,
To me they stalk.
A shelter from them
Now I seek.
Everyday I'm violated,
And getting weak.
I don't find
Any place of stillness;
Away from them,
From getting into mess.
I don't want to be
Here any longer.
Please, stick me out.
For I'm stuck
In the house called
The body with
Love, lust and anger.

S. Bharat

The Other

"Panyacha barka tambya dya, Kaku",
From outside, a boy cried
For his father had toiled in field
And his throat completely dried.

Kaku shouted at him
"It's Chhota, not Barka" with her eyes-wide.
"Run away from here,
Stupid guy from countryside!"

"Panyacha Chhota tyamba dya!"
Then he preferred to say;
"It's Lota, not Tambya, Duffer!" Chachi harshly said.
From there too he wended his way.

He didn't have any courage
To ask anyone for water for his father
Whom he should reach out?
He was considered to be the other.

An Aunt stood in the corner
And was watching this drama all along
She offered him a glass of water
Since then the boy started singing her song.

S. Bharat