Friday, June 29, 2012
Friday, May 28, 2010
HOW OUR DESTINY CHANGED
(A few words before you read this poem:
It is a simple and sincere tribute to our veteran leader-the Mahatma.
Here I try to picture out the pitiable nature of our country which almost resembled an old meter gauge train, creeping all along, giving its subjects only worries and hardships. People’s attitudes towards life ,duties etc were not better either.
The incident narrated in this poem is a real one, supposed to be happened soon after Gandhiji’s return from South Africa.)
How our destiny changed
The sun was like a red hot salver blazing over head
And everyone was eager to reach their destination
But the train chugged on, moving as a millipede
Stopping here and there somewhat baffled
Along the country side and amidst the arid fields
Puffing and panting making all wet in perspire.
The tired passengers looked darker and paler
With the motes of coal and cinders over them.
Hours passed like years, and noisy was the bogie
With children’s cries, chatters and redundant quarrels
All of us were thirsty and reserve of water was empty
Sitting alone and drawn by some futile thoughts.
Nobody was fervent to break the chains that hold
Our nation under the boots of foreign raiders.
I was also passive, why should I bother? So safe
Was my life with all its pleasures and delights.
Then the train had a long halt over a bridge
And it resembled a furnace frying all together.
The man sitting against me went out for a wash
And I could see him walking down the uneven path
To the river rather dry seen under the bridge
A lady was there like a picture of penury
Washing the frayed ends of her only cloth
And attempting to veil her bareness in vain.
The man was shocked terribly with empathy
Went back leaving all that he had in excess
To start a majestic mission uplifting the poor
Making them strong in hurling away the yokes.
P.RAMESH.—March 2010
E-mail: ramesh_pullelil@yahoo.co.in
It is a simple and sincere tribute to our veteran leader-the Mahatma.
Here I try to picture out the pitiable nature of our country which almost resembled an old meter gauge train, creeping all along, giving its subjects only worries and hardships. People’s attitudes towards life ,duties etc were not better either.
The incident narrated in this poem is a real one, supposed to be happened soon after Gandhiji’s return from South Africa.)
How our destiny changed
The sun was like a red hot salver blazing over head
And everyone was eager to reach their destination
But the train chugged on, moving as a millipede
Stopping here and there somewhat baffled
Along the country side and amidst the arid fields
Puffing and panting making all wet in perspire.
The tired passengers looked darker and paler
With the motes of coal and cinders over them.
Hours passed like years, and noisy was the bogie
With children’s cries, chatters and redundant quarrels
All of us were thirsty and reserve of water was empty
Sitting alone and drawn by some futile thoughts.
Nobody was fervent to break the chains that hold
Our nation under the boots of foreign raiders.
I was also passive, why should I bother? So safe
Was my life with all its pleasures and delights.
Then the train had a long halt over a bridge
And it resembled a furnace frying all together.
The man sitting against me went out for a wash
And I could see him walking down the uneven path
To the river rather dry seen under the bridge
A lady was there like a picture of penury
Washing the frayed ends of her only cloth
And attempting to veil her bareness in vain.
The man was shocked terribly with empathy
Went back leaving all that he had in excess
To start a majestic mission uplifting the poor
Making them strong in hurling away the yokes.
P.RAMESH.—March 2010
E-mail: ramesh_pullelil@yahoo.co.in
Monday, June 9, 2008
THE STORY OF A POOR BIRD
Once I was on a journey long
When I heard a cry of pang
The sun was dying behind the hills
And the sands seemed red frilled dapples
I was alone and in a run for victuals.
Yet I waited for a while.
It was a bird’s cry so sharp and fret
Like a clarinet blown with might
None had heard such a voice so sad
Making hearts dwell in a panic drift.
I heard the cry not once, but first
Failed to find the source that made
A church was at a small room ahead
And the priest was there in the pulpitry suit
To all my surprise, the cry again turned out
And now it was from the Altar so close
A rare bird was in a golden cage
Blood soaked, with wings plucked out
The cage was bolted with a massive lock
The size of that was more than we expect
There was none to break that cage
Nor had the strength to let her free.
The hopeless bird cried again in distress
Shaking the whole world strongly for a while
All constricted cages were crushed and thrown
Then what! The poor bird with all deprived went
Swiftly up to the Real Heaven that they deserve.
20-04-2008 Ramesh.P
Email: Ramesh_pullelil@ yahoo.co.in
When I heard a cry of pang
The sun was dying behind the hills
And the sands seemed red frilled dapples
I was alone and in a run for victuals.
Yet I waited for a while.
It was a bird’s cry so sharp and fret
Like a clarinet blown with might
None had heard such a voice so sad
Making hearts dwell in a panic drift.
I heard the cry not once, but first
Failed to find the source that made
A church was at a small room ahead
And the priest was there in the pulpitry suit
To all my surprise, the cry again turned out
And now it was from the Altar so close
A rare bird was in a golden cage
Blood soaked, with wings plucked out
The cage was bolted with a massive lock
The size of that was more than we expect
There was none to break that cage
Nor had the strength to let her free.
The hopeless bird cried again in distress
Shaking the whole world strongly for a while
All constricted cages were crushed and thrown
Then what! The poor bird with all deprived went
Swiftly up to the Real Heaven that they deserve.
20-04-2008 Ramesh.P
Email: Ramesh_pullelil@ yahoo.co.in
MY LOST FRIEND
I had a little friend
And she was a friend indeed
Our love was as sweet as honey
That we never parted in a hurry.
The sea has fascinated me always
With its roaring winds and waves
But the sunset was her delight
And she felt sorry for his plight.
That Sunday was no good for us
It was cloudy dawn to dusk
She was crying as the Sun was fading
I never knew that it was her ending
Thus she went leaving me alone.
Years passed and world has changed
But still I see her in the skies
With her tears twinkling like stars
And making the hearts melt in her cries.
Dec 2003 Ramesh .P
E mail: Ramesh_pullelil@yahoo.co.in
And she was a friend indeed
Our love was as sweet as honey
That we never parted in a hurry.
The sea has fascinated me always
With its roaring winds and waves
But the sunset was her delight
And she felt sorry for his plight.
That Sunday was no good for us
It was cloudy dawn to dusk
She was crying as the Sun was fading
I never knew that it was her ending
Thus she went leaving me alone.
Years passed and world has changed
But still I see her in the skies
With her tears twinkling like stars
And making the hearts melt in her cries.
Dec 2003 Ramesh .P
E mail: Ramesh_pullelil@yahoo.co.in
A Drenched lady
I saw a lady not young or old
With a dark shade below her eyes
She was tall, lean and humble
And beautiful as a rose bud rare
Half bloomed and adorned with dew drops
Sitting beside the path all wet in rain.
A wealthy man offered money to her
Others offered shelter and tasty foods
A man heartily invited her to his life
And offered all pleasures that she desired
The king also came ready to surrender
All eminence that he acquired through ages
But to my surprise she accepted nothing
And liked to sit alone fully drenched.
The night kindly threw a dark blanket over her
I was there still watching her lying lonely
Weak, frozen and as disappointed as before
Taking the last breath, her lips kept quivering
She was then, I think, in a praying mood
Alas! The Almighty Himself alighted and
Offered a seat beside him for all that she suffered
Again she rejected but begged for a simple thing
“Let me have some Pure Love Lord., Please”
22-04-2008 P.Ramesh
E mail:Ramesh_pullelil@yahoo.co.in
With a dark shade below her eyes
She was tall, lean and humble
And beautiful as a rose bud rare
Half bloomed and adorned with dew drops
Sitting beside the path all wet in rain.
A wealthy man offered money to her
Others offered shelter and tasty foods
A man heartily invited her to his life
And offered all pleasures that she desired
The king also came ready to surrender
All eminence that he acquired through ages
But to my surprise she accepted nothing
And liked to sit alone fully drenched.
The night kindly threw a dark blanket over her
I was there still watching her lying lonely
Weak, frozen and as disappointed as before
Taking the last breath, her lips kept quivering
She was then, I think, in a praying mood
Alas! The Almighty Himself alighted and
Offered a seat beside him for all that she suffered
Again she rejected but begged for a simple thing
“Let me have some Pure Love Lord., Please”
22-04-2008 P.Ramesh
E mail:Ramesh_pullelil@yahoo.co.in
Friday, May 16, 2008
FOR 'HUMAN RIGHTS'
The hall was trembling with applause
When the prize was handed over to her
The memento was designed with eminence
With a carving which read ‘to the great
Leader who fought for the human rights’
A man was sitting close to the podium
Worries and crisis were always with him
He couldn’t but be such functions,
As he loved and admired such persons.
With garlands, bouquet and flowers
She was much cuter than he thought
Sitting there he wished to touch her once
But the meeting ended without a chance
And he had a flower fall from her garland
Happily returned away for his work.
Fortunate was he to meet her again in a bus
She entered while he was at the door
Others made way with respect
Purposely did he touch as she passed
Felt as a petal, her body, cold and soft.
She turned with a frown in her face
To see him in his pale decayed dress
With an ugly bundle over the shoulder
And with a porringer small but dented.
There was a muddle after a while
Oh! The lady had lost her chain
All were eager to find out the culprit
And the man was accused without any doubt
As the plunder could not be retrieved
He was handed over to Police
Till dawn they crushed his bones
All tired, were the police when they heard
The chain was under her table.
The people were also happy to hear it
And they never failed to exclaim:
“How lucky she is to get back it!”
But no one was anxious about the man
Whose body was lying near the track
All shattered by the morning train.
Ramesh.P
24-04-2008 E mail:ramesh_pullelil@yahoo.co.in
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