Shree Ram Homecoming

On the bank of the sacred Saryu,
Stands the city of Ayodhya of His,
Where He took birth in this world
And left the mark which still is.

The efforts have bore fruits at last
To recreate this mark that He left;
The lives that’ve worked long and hard,
Have brought the architects to the gates.

Ram, all the good done for your people,
Along the pain bore by Sita and You;
The time has come when we start giving back
Our part of the share that was long due.

Much malign was thrown about
Before this auspicious moment could be;
Extreme lows, the people had hit
That even He was dragged to the courts to ‘be’.

Yes, your children have strayed from the path,
But there are many who still remain
These children will pay all your dues
And never bring any stain upon your name.

The day has arrived for which we have waited,
The hour has arrived when history will prevail,
The minute has arrived when world will see,
The devotion for Shri Ram in all it’s glory.

~जय श्री राम

The Field, The Sky and The People

A drop fell on the ground,
And a pair of eyes lit up somewhere
Drops came and fell on the field
And the houses shone up everywhere.

The field all cracked up and dried,
From the years that had passed by
Without a drop of the essence of life
Beamed up and chuckled with the sky.

The sky, from years had seen
His mate getting ruptured with pain,
Days and nights had passed by
And he couldn’t help, his hands unbearably chained.

Finally the clouds arrived,
With the promises of the essence;
The sky and the field rejoiced
And so did the people of the land.

The festivities began the next day;
The people of the village danced around
The sky was up, along with the clouds
And the field revived again with it’s joy abound.

The Unkind Cities

He was the king of his fields,
The beautiful streams flowing by.
Lived contently by his farm,
Ploughing and harvesting as years passed by.

He was now a servant of another.
Labouring for the men of the city,
No longer in his quaint village,
Was picking waste at the age of fifty.

His wife worked with him on the fields,
Feeding and caring for their farm.
She was the queen of his house,
And he kept her from all the harm.

She was still the queen of his house,
A small square room in the city.
His queen was now a maid to another,
While bearing the curses, what a pity!

His children ran freely in the fields,
Along their animals that were there before.
With all the innocence and without any worry,
Dancing in the rain and singing in the meadows.

His children ran still in the city,
But with all the worries of the world.
Working jobs here and there with burdens,
No longer the masters of their own.

All the lives of the farmer’s family,
Beared the painful change that had arrived.
Leaving their beautiful farm behind,
Had to migrate to the city that was unkind.

Picture Credit : Google

The Siren of the Sea

Call out to him to thyself,
In the voice sweetest of thine that can be.
And for the thousands years to pass,
He shall remain in flesh with thee.

Wandering he hast been,
Restless for days, in the restless sea.
Give him thy shelter,
Oh, the siren of the sea.

Trembled have the men,
Those who heard the song of thee.
Hastened to behold you,
Have laid their spirit for thee.

No different is this man,
Sailed here to lay his soul.
Sing to him thy song,
That hast the strength to calm all.

Charm the lost traveller,
Blest to hear thy sing.

Sing thy song,
Oh, the siren of the sea!

Awaiting.

The sound of the jeep,
Heard from a distant road.
The maiden strolling in the field,
Dropped the shoes and dashed.

Ran and ran, the lassie elated,
Across the wide land to her home,
Where she’d put on her best
And wait for him to reach the door.

The soldier on the jeep,
Tried so hard to keep within,
His thrill of coming home
To be with his love and be complete.

The yellowed snapshot in his pocket
Was the only memory that’d remained of her
Years had passed and wars fought and won,
Yet he had lost the war that took her from him.

He remembered her eyes still,
That shone oh so brightly as the sun!
When he’d return home to her,
And there she was, as beautiful as the stars and the sun.

Now, he was on the way home
To an empty house with only the memories
Yet he couldn’t help but feel full,
As he knew she’d still be waiting
For him to return at the door.

The Land of the Dreams

The golden moon shining bright
In the night along the stars
The water of the oceans
Touching the blue of the skies

Running with the wolves
Into the wild forests and flying high
With your hair flowing free
Along the strong winds blowing by

The thoughts of the mind
Washed away by the shining water
Enjoying life that one’s dreamt
When disturbed by the world yonder.

Singing the sweetest melodies
Dancing with the maddest themes

Ruling the kingdoms of the free
Onto the land of the dreams.

A Reality Unheard.

The child was trapped,
In the country torn by wars,
Wandered around the cities,
The begger’s bowl in his arms.

The day he remembered well.
A thunderous sound at the door,
The drops of sweat sliding down,
An unsettling silence struck down.

The other side, a voice boomed,
‘Open the door’, warned the man.
So they did and barged in he,
A gun so big he’d never seen.

He lost everything that day.
His father, mother and sister,
Everyone gone and taken,
While he was hidden in his home.

Then out came the child,
From under the closet ,
Weeped for his mother,
The smoke all around.

They’d taken everything,
That he had ever held dear.
Now he was the only one left,
To bear the world on his shoulder.

Summers of the Past.

Slept in the mornings till 9,
And hollered through out the nights.
Oh, how we used to play together
All those games with such delight!

As I sit by alone in the dark,
I remember all those sweet summer days,
When the only worries we’d have,
What’d we eat and what’ll we play!

We’d fight and we’d cry,
We’d laugh and we’d fly.
The days of the sweet summer
That made the time swish by.

Now when we meet ,
Those days return with us.
We sit around together,
Reminiscing the sweet memories forever.

The days of summer do return.
But not like ones before.
The essence still remains,
But the ego comes by more.

Oh, how I wish for the moments,
Of the summer days to return,
And have us to get lost inside
To live that childhood once more!

The Maiden by the River.

A maiden by the river
Beholding the dark sky
Sat alone by the woods
Unseen by the passerbys

Dreaming of the worlds unknown
She used sit by the cold water
Hoping one day the knight would come
And save her from the imaginary monster

And he did come by the water
So tall and handsome was he
But the monster that she’d feared
Was right inside the knight of her dreams

Oh, how could she love
The monster that she’d feared all life
But she relented to do so
For he was indeed the man and she, his wife.

But then the woods darkened
The night fell on the sky again
Ice of the ruthless winter
Increased in the hearts again

Had no choice but to run
She ran with all the might
But followed the monster behind
Tormenting the maiden till night

Night came,and she fought the last fight
Drove the dagger right through his heart
At last rid of the monster that she’d loved
With the last shreds of dignity in her mind

The maiden by the river
Beholding the dark sky
Sat alone by the woods
Unseen by the passerbys.

You are Draupadi.

Born out of the fire,
She is the epitome of your power.
The dark-skinned princess,
She is the epitome of your beauty.

Prayed to the Gods,
Only for the perfect husband.
Her knight in shining armor,
With all the qualities that can be.

And her prayers answered,
But with a twist as little as can be.
Our Panchali was married,
To five princes with her desired qualities.

Shown hostility by the people
For she was the wife of five brothers
The same people of the society
Who failed to recognise the purity in Sita.

Yagyaseni tolerated it all.

Lusted upon by her own brother-in-laws,
Being termed a prostitute in front of the royal assembly,
Looked upon by five of her powerful helpless husbands
Who themselves had put her up for gambling.

Draupadi tolerated it all.

But when all of it came down to her honor,
When her saree was pulled by Dussasana
In front of all the elders and the men of the empire,
Who looked on silently as their sacred daughter-in-law was dishonored,
All she did was pray for her honor.

And her prayers were answered,
For her Lord was not like the cowards in the hall.

And the all the men present there,
Paid their price, one way or other.
For those who’ve ever tried to contemt women,
Have been turned to ashes.
Such is the power of a woman.

And who says Draupadi isn’t real?

She was, She is and She will
Be alive in all the women of the world.

She is the epitome of your bravery and honor.
She is the epitome of yourself.

So rise up and do not let her down.