December,
to me is the Spring time
of memories -
December to me
the birds of
memories flying back and forth,
December to me,
a ****-tail of sweet, delicious,
painful memories, emotions.
Recall me those misty
nights,
the whole city,
awashed with frothing milky light
the blue expanse up above
with stars mischievously
glinting with joy and the moon
casting quiet smiles
upon all the
children of God on Earth.
Recall me those days
walking along with him down a
straight tarred road
like a ribbon unrolled.
Both sides lined-up with
flats embellished with
colourful, flashing, scintillating X'mas stars
bunches of balloons, festoons,
chandeliers
X'mas cradles,
twinkling X'mas trees
like stars up in the sky
both he and me
wrapping shawls around
our coats
hand in hand
sharing honeyed memories and dreams
overflowing emotions
like rivers gushing forth
cracking jokes
witty he was
tongue-in-cheek he was
forcing me to
burst out laughing often
but
in the din of hooting
local trains
running to and fro non-stop
along parallel tracks
outside the flat walls
umpteen of the night-walkers,
love-birds like us
the middle-aged couples
the old-age love-birds
though rare just a
trickle
passing to and fro
in the piercing cold
joyous, rejoicing, such
piercing needles of cold
thrusting into our skin
all indelibly imprinted
on the tender walls of
my mind, his mind.
Now
after years since we
got separated
both at far ends of
the world
while the world
awaits excitedly with
unlimited patience
the birth of Infant Jesus
in a cattle shed at Bethlehem
with the angels
flying to earth from
heaven
conveying the message of
the arrival of
Saviour of mankind on earth
to liberate man from sins
to purify his soul and mind
yes visualising me very much
the X'mas carolls
Santa Clause with the
accompaniment of drum-beats
all sweet things
of the past
reach to his mind
reach my mind
memories never fail us.
December to me is
the Spring time of my memories
with him
December to him is
the Spring time of his memories
with me....

His youthful days in the city
have robbed him off the names
of flowers, plants, various
species of birds,
insects and animals
barring a few.
The names of the ones he was familiar
with during his childhood
days and teens
unfortunately are forgotten.
The surging crowds,
the speeding vehicles,
the trains blaring their
horns like tigers roaring and long hours
lost due to journeys
and round the
clock duties in which he immersed himself
to be precise, the mechanical life
spent in the mechanized ambience of
the cosmopolitan city
all took away from
him the  attractive
colours and fragrance of  various flowers,
the serene, calm and beauty of
the sylvan  surroundings
the pure air
the flowing streams which
gurgling  like girls wearing
anklets while walking
the early morning melodious music
of nightingales,
the chirping of birds and the music of crickets
have got lost in hustle and bustle of the
city life.
Now he in his
village sits alone
sadly and with aching heart
those invaluable gems of the days
he lost colouring his
days in the city……..
‘I have to learn from the beginning now,
sadly many invaluable things
have already vanished with the offensive of industrialization………’
-he told himself.

Faces and names
we like or detest
refuse to leave us
though we want them
vanish from our memory
which however
disappear from the recesses of our mind
like a few sentences
written over the sand of the sea-shore
are wiped  away by
the surging waves within seconds.
Faces and names
we love, like hate or fear
however are etched on
the walls of memory
in other words
our minds like bloating
papers absorb them
within split seconds.
Beauty or personal magnetism
are not the criteria
If so,
how come rough,
wicked and wily faces
stick to the walls of our minds.
There are no apparent reasons
to explain why such a
puzzle or could we call it phenomenon
lingers which is subjective
subjective only…….

Once,
a young man started
scaling the highest mountain of knowledge.
His one and only
aim was nothing but
conquer that mountain
before others forge ahead of him.
With the passage of years and years
reaching the half-way mark
his store-well of strength,
will and determination
gradually started drying up
which forced him to
abandon his mission
return to the point
from where he began scaling
up the mountain.
Like a rich man turning bankrupt
due to unexpected collapse of his business
the person who dreamt of conquering the
mountain of knowledge
could never fulfil his ambition.
Conquering the highest
mountain remains beyond the approach of each person on the face of earth…….

Riding the crest of popular wave
he found himself
catapulted to the throne of
the leader of the nation.
A visibly moved he,
sporting a beaming smile
addressed an ocean of cheering crowds
waving hands, displaying ‘V’signs
delivered a prolonged speech
driving his subjects drunk with joy unbound
like his predecessors who one by one
occupied the saddle
riding the crest of popular wave
made themselves endearing
to hundreds of thousands of masses.
They too delivered
fiery speeches with sugar-coated
pledges and promises
to wash away the grime of corruption,
terror and violence
elevating the masses to
a plain of sky-high dreams,
happy days of prosperity and hopes aplenty
unfortunately the suffering millions
found themselves taken  for a ride.
Now a new man in the garb of
a benevolent leader
in whom they reposed their full faith
the one and only reason being
public memory always remains short.
Election after election, ruler after ruler
who make false promises of new dawn
push their subjects to the abyss
of hardships, poverty, deaths
thereby  snuffing out
the flames of sweet morrows.

Despised and hated by majority
loved, feared and respected by minority
the malevolent dictator is always at the
mercy of a silent majority
which ‘he is unwilling to acknowledge
simply because of his loyal forces,
the so-called minority
the obedient dogs
always wagging their
tails before their master.
But when the silent majority
reach the bottom-line of their patience
they turn eloquent
gather under one umbrella
fight against the loyal militia
until the eloquent majority
arrive at the door of victory
and dethrone the dictator.
The boot-lickers of the ruthless dictator
flee for their life leaving their master in the lurch
who by that time will be chained
and imprisoned and brought to justice.
At last freedom knocks on the door of the nation
which was under the iron grip of
a merciless ruler
and a new era is born.

Hurdles, hurdles all the way
many a hurdle jumped
countless await to be jumped.
A short relief after each hurdle
it’s better than no relief.
Hurdles, hurdles all the way
many a hurdle jumped
countless await to be jumped
if a man/woman with much effort
jumps all the hurdles.
Then lie a long path
sans without hurdles
straight at times
long winding at other times
hair-pin curves at another times
Relaxation not allowed
and no turning back permitted
albeit the path is
littered with sharp stones,
thorns and ***-holes
barefooted is each man/woman.
Hurdles, hurdles all the way
many a hurdle jumped
countless await to be jumped
intricacies of life are strange
none knows what is yet to follow
each second, each minute, each hour
human beings are in a state of
suspended animation.
Hurdles, hurdles all the way,
many a hurdle jumped
countless await to be jumped….