Hello swans with your brown signets
On the near edges where the weeds blend
And the green meets the trusted stoney bed
You frighten a little with those huge wings
The strength to **** if fear struck an orange eye.

The ducks and drakes trailing fluffy ducklings
So linger daring the hands of bread and biscuits
A continuity of return until fat and bloated, stop.
Their tail feathers sharing a twitching line march
As they swim back to the safety of the reed beds.

Love Mary

There once was a lad from the Lone Star State,
who dreamed of exploration and realized that just over the horizon, adventure await.

He was commissioned by the internal desire for adventure,
which burns deep inside us all, and within him grew,
so he assembled a ragtag crew to explore a land seen by few.

He set off for the ancient land- more north than he’d ever been-
whose beauty and wonder only true voyageurs and men of the wilds knew.

By air and by land, the voyageur lad traveled to his Uncle’s cabin,
nestled deep within the Harshaw Hill country.
  
This legendary cabin, was built solely by the hands of the one they call Uncle Buck-
the most amazing cabin one could ever see.

Uncle Buck is renowned and recognized throughout the land
for his merit, adventurous spirit, long grizzled beard, and skillful hand.

It was here, in the cabin’s comfort, the brave Sugar Beans (as he was fondly named)
greeted his courageous crew with a hearty, “Boozhoo!”
They were some of the finest canoeists around-
paddlers tested, tried and true.

Together they pondered, planned, and plotted the course of their adventure
for which they’d set forth;
packed their belongings, and dreamed of North.

Sugar Beans’ crew consisted of five, rugged braves-
paddlers he knew had grit and could battle the wind, rain, and waves.

Uncle Buck, a wise and grizz old guide, had seen many moons in the Northland sky.              
Respect of all living things and the song of the wild are the codes to which he ascribes.

Jonesy, a well-traveled voyageur himself and Sugar Beans’ proud dad,
had been to this land and wanted to share its magic with his brave little lad.

Joeseppi , a young blood at heart, was the lad’s loyal cousin and friend,
a trustworthy bowman, on whom all paddlers could depend.

Makwa, the newcomer- fierce as a bear and as tough as the rest-
and after day one, she gave it her best.

And last there was Pierrὲson; the lad’s other cousin and fellow adventure zealot,
who once learned his lesson and stayed away from anything that resembled an apricot.

They loaded the van, strapped on the canoes, and greeted the early morning with a boisterous “Bonjour!” and embarked North to begin The Magical Northwoods Mystery Tour.

Traversing blue highways the voyageurs meandered north, through the wilds of Wisconsin and the Land of 10,000 lakes, hoping to make the Canadian border before it was too late.

Eventually they arrived at the Magical Northwoods’ doorway- delicate and ornate.
The crew unloaded their gear and launched their canoes- confident and sure.
Each eager paddle stroke brought them closer to all the memories they would create.

And Sugar Bean and his crew created memories- some of the best.
Memories that seep into dreams and make one feel blessed.  

Memories of:

discovering a pictograph and plodding through a ****** river- just to get back on path;

stumbling upon wolf tracks and forgetting the fishing poles- but never the packs;

exploring  craggy caves and battling and paddling against the wind and waves;

hunting for ice under rock clefts out of the sun, they searched and searched but came up with none;

swimming in the warm water nearly every day and asking painted turtles if they wanted to play;

practicing the art of stalking seagulls, and on every lake, they gave greeting the glorious eagles;

dropkicking each and every single portage and of food and laughter there was no shortage.

The crew came back with fantastic tales and experienced everything a voyageur could wish.
And although his dad will try to tell you it was only by an eighth of an inch, there are pictures to prove that Sugar Beans caught the biggest fish!

So here’s a paddle rattle for you- young voyageur lad- the greatest voyageur old Quetico’s ever seen!  May your adventurous spirit continue to grow and may the waters you paddle always be serene.

The swimmers and paddlers.
Hello swans with your brown signets
On the near edges where the weeds blend
And the green meets the trusted stoney bed
You frighten a little with those huge wings
The strength to **** if fear struck an orange eye.

The ducks and drakes trailing fluffy ducklings
So linger daring the hands of bread and biscuits
A continuity of return until fat and bloated, stop.
Their tail feathers sharing a twitching line march
As they swim back to the safety of the reed beds.

Love Mary

Young men fit for battle,
too young for war but paddled
with swagger down the Skeena.

A week on the water, lakes and rivers,
bodies of water that take if you giver,
but this one this day promised what it delivered.

A vortex, canoes lined up to paddle hard,
as the hole in the middle would drag a canoe,
to the depths, to the depths, without release.

One canoe and wait then another then one more,
three were through, number four went round
and round the eddy they held steady as five went
past, then they, four escaped the mighty swirl without
cheer.

Six was with the whirl, they paddled hard as
they were drawn near the rocks and cliff,
a broken paddle, and they limped away, clear
of the gulf.

Seven went and were hell bent, to get through,
all experienced paddlers too, what success,
number eight held four of us, weighted low down
with only three paddlers too, round we went and
then again, nine passed us and cleared the danger,
seven came back to encourage and be near...

What happened was what they feared the whirlpool
dragged us closer, we weren't dizzy, but tired of
rounding the same bend, breaking waves but not enough,
tiring out as we were pulled in again, round and in again.

We needed to split the curve cut the outside wave
and across the break, near the rocks and in the wake
of the river wash and the base of the cliff,
we had to all paddle hard and when and if
we broke free we would join our brothers guilt free,
if we did not
we would have
been a story on
a page of some
deaths to drowning
while at a cadet camp.

the boat's bow broke the waves one two and three,
missed the rocks, the cliff, almost free, voices raised,
an angry fight to live and have done battle with no loss,
we were finally free three companions and me, tossed
by the fourth wave, and I looked back into the hole
of the maelstrom, I looked back lesson learned,
passion for life, a must you have to yearn
for life otherwise, for love, point your bow,
dig your paddle in
and look back no more.

There is more rough water ahead.


©DWE102013

Hello swans with your brown signets
On the near edges where the weeds blend
And the green meets the trusted stoney bed
You frighten a little with those huge wings
The strength to **** if fear struck an orange eye.

The ducks and drakes trailing fluffy ducklings
As they swim back to the safety of the reed bed.


Love Mary

A busy lane
Narrow frame
Two cars could not cross
At the same time
Chaos and confusion reigned Supreme

An obscure building
Wouldn't catch your attention
Housed a club premises
Of two varying interests
Table Tennis and Cards

A small door
Along with it the canals odour
Dimly lit indoors
With not a single window

Toilet and a phone
Also housed a carrom zone
4 tables lined in order
Next room housed the card player

Mylapore Gymkhana club
Diminutive in appearance
With a small parking space in the front
A place of historical importance
Produced Champion after Champion

Tables numbered in order
Determined the quality of the player
Senior Junior and Sub Junior
Played with their respective partners

The air filled with Positivity
Sportsmanship and equality
Will to win in every player
Who played at every layer

Ability to play the game
on any given day
Weighed on a justice scale
Determined which table you play

Background never mattered
Wealth and Influence nobody cared
Integrity to the game noticed
Absolutely no prejudice

Play with your peers only rule
Any attempt to spar with a better player met with ridicule
Improvement in game the only consideration
To play with a better paddler
At his dispensation

No Coach present
Learn by being observant
Want to raise in the ranks
Show performance in the match

Legends of the game
Proud to lend their name
Respected their place of practice
From novice all the way to winning the Championship

All tables with players
Learning and playing with each other
Each a ladder to another
Owed a lot to one another

Discipline present
With no one to Discipline
Coached in the game
With no one to Coach
System of competence
Endeared
With no one to judge
Dedication to the game integral
With no one to Enforce

Booked its place
In the history of the sport
A paradox of a place
Which can never be replaced

Visited the club everyday
To see paddlers play
Great opportunity presented to me
For this was what meant to be

7 years from 77
Club was heaven
Watching and learning
Took to the Sport 2 years coming

Thankful to the men
Who gave me attention
Helped shape my character
Life became a lot easier

Became a coach
Of the same Sport
Nostalgia for the club
Reason I got the job

Teaching avid learners
Imparting sporting values
Every player who I watched in action
I dedicate all my success to them with devotion

Each player a personality
I thank each personally
For the love and affection showered
Considering my age I could have easily been ignored

The opportunity to visit the club
Greatest gift God showered
Getting to know players if that calibre
Solely determined my future

The only child to his Parents.
Father an Engineer,Mother a Teacher.
Godfather was his Grandfather.
Resolve he was born with.
Give it your best try.
Was his battle Cry.
Second to none.
Never to be outdone.
Groomed for Stardom.
Destined for Greatness.
Potential he did fulfill,
Blind to the bird but not to it's eye.
Made his opponents eat humble pie.
Straddling Table Tennis and Education
He did it with Passion
Born in a house of Paddlers
He took to the game like fish to water.
Loose he did to a veteran player.
Affected his esteem at every layer.
Formal training was the direction.
Which he commenced with conviction.
Interned with the mighty
Name was Senapathy
Mentored him in the game.
Which was to bring him name and fame.
Nobody knew then,
That he would become a player to reckon.
Showed potential as a teenager.
Prodigy he was not.
Only Sacrifice would suffice,
Parted with Parents and Friends alike.
Lived and breathed the game.
Penchant for winning pushed him beyond the frame.
Victories were far and few.
Never let his purpose skew.
Respecting his teacher, he set an example
Coach was God
Was his principle.
Perseverance paid
And he played for State
In his younger age.
Junior category was a fight.
He did with all his might.
India number seven.
Vault of heaven,
Was yet to open.
Toured Korea and Japan,
Attended many a Coaching Camp.
Learnt all he can.
Trained with vigour,
Things began to auger.
Quantum jump, Radical Change ,Giant strides.
Give it any name ,his style was a sight.
Meteoric was his rise.
Nothing could stop him
Winning just a game
Won his  opponents praise.
Relentless in his pursuit for perfection.
Education was not left behind.
Value systems being the same.
Strived  to be in the hall of fame.
He never did Play Hooky.
Integrity toward his subject of study.
The Gold Medal seemed Worthy.
Topping his class became a habit.
From Kindergarten to Law.
His Answer papers
No one could find a flaw.
Being first is Special
Coming 2nd is the same as finishing last
Either you are the best
Or you are with the rest
He still says with zest
First of the Finest
His fame reached wide and far.
Became the games first Superstar.
Stadiums were Sold Out,
To Watch him Play
Night or Day.
Opponents fell like ninepins
Keeping count became difficult of his wins.
Men wanted to be like him.
Women wanted to be with him.
Everyone wanted a piece of him.
All he took lightly on his shoulders with a grin.
Palaghat ,Indore and Durgapur
History was rewritten by Telent pure
Ballistic went the crowd
As was bestowed upon him the ultimate Crown
3 different Bats and 6 different rubbers.
Odds of Winning,
Punters  will tell you the numbers.
A feat unmatched it remains.
******* on the
table it explains
Traveling like an arrow from an ace archer.
He had his aim much farther.
Asian ranking in his fold
There were not enough challenges to put him on hold.
Life is what happens when we are busy making plans.
What is meant to be will find its way.
A person often meets his destiny on the path he took to avoid it.
All these adages came true.
As a bolt from the blue.
Shooting fish in a barrel
Knee Surgery.
Was botched leaving him
Knocking on Death's door.
Brain Dead ,Pink Froth and Coma he endured
Juxtaposing Winning Glory and celebrated
Culpable liable they were of negligence.
Guilty once found ,
their careers in jeopardy.
Doctors became Actors.
Carried out the Sting.
Deceptive and delusive
Crystal clear became their motive.
Fighting for his life .
Disowned by the Hospital.
Face like a wet weekend,
Down in the mouth.
He was wheeled out,
Knocked sideways.
An act of slight.
Made him take up the fight.
Their insolence was the trigger.
For things to become bigger.
Opposition however mightier.
He readied for battle on the philosophy of Be Water.
Benchmark he was in all his endeavours.
Destroyed in him was everything .
Spirit was intact.
Calamity opened the doors for creating history
Medical negligence suit he filed.
Leading the way once again.
Never to back down from a fight.
He took upon their might
Long drawn battle ensued.
David and Goliath played over again.
Too big they were to oppose opined  all.
Too big they were to miss would cause their fall.
Money Power and Manipulation were their  deck of cards.
Truth was the Ace he had in his heart.
Fruition of his thoughts, he never failed.
Threaten ,Disrupt,Delay weapons they used.
Countered them with grit and tenacity infused.
The Giant assumed the storm unleashed he cannot withstand.
Only if they had known he was the storm beforehand.
Judgement Day was Justice Day .
Late it was but not Denied.
Not new to him.
For all the battles and wars he'd fought.
He was always the dark horse who beat the odds.
Setting a precedent always his vogue.
Stood on the Soapbox.
An addiction he never could detox.