Diwali Celebration

Every once in a year celebration

Hearts filled with jubilation

Do away with the things unwanted

Clean up the homes and offices

That desk at school or the office

The wardrobes and the hidden corners

Lift up the beds and push the bench

Trim up the lawn and manicure the fence

Wash that rustic cloth wall hanging

Polish the silvers and glaze the glass painting

With a dash of vinegar brighten the tea set

Door handles and lamps now shine their brass

Sparkling your drinks with relishing class

A bed spread so new now on the bed

Add a new cushion or duvet floral grand

The flower pots and vases in fragrant hues

Curtains washed fresh or in prints some new

The mithais, farsan and nankhatais prepared

The juices and sodas and whisky all paired

The lamps of shapes and sizes purchased

New books of accounts also arranged

Gold jewelry and silver coins fared cared

Sarees, suits, lehngas and jhumkas adorned

Wrists full of bangles chiming like birds

That new shirt and trouser for Puja is made

Or if you like a kurta pajama with a stole

The kitchen is gifted with a utensil new

And gifts are given to the chosen few

Diwali a time for visiting near and dear

Lighting up the hearts with festive gear

Diwali Balls all around fare party mood

No one must sulk sad or sit to brood

Jovial atmosphere spread all around

With Diwali lights is lit all ground

Seeking blessings from elders and parents grand

Paying obeisance to the deity at temple planned

Laxmi the goddess of love, mercy and wealth

Worshipped with fervor in each household

Ganesha the obstacle remover Lord God

Is invoked for his blessings in prayer abound

Hugging and greeting each other comrades

Play games of cards holding diamonds and spades

A multi activity this festival of Hindus

Brings business boom also to non Hindus

Sikiladi

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

PLASTIC BAG BAN

 

The plastic ban in Kenya has occurred

A step towards safe environment structured

Banish those pollutant plastics deadly

That chokes the streets and gutters filthy

PLASTIC WASTE

 

The educated man needs a re-education

Of the pros and cons of waste reduction

Increase not thou unfriendly sophistication

That not only demands but breathes in pollution

 

The new age takes a reference from the old

Grandma’s days were smarter, we are now told

kikapu

Using re-usable resources with a spirit bold

When the sensitivity for future wasn’t so cold

 

Plastics that pollute to be used sparingly

Durability of products spelt of their quality

Be it metal containers and Tiffin boxes plenty

Or even the now near extinct fountain pens greatly

 

The one pen owned by one lasted years so many

The one basket for groceries used, re-used uncanny

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When the bicyclists hanged baskets of shopping fancy

And the grandmother stitched colourful bags lacy

 

Carcinogens then did not create illnesses and kill

Rubbish then did not strangle fish for some thrill

 

Whales never died then from consuming plastic frill

And the rivers and seas didn’t need clean up drills

 

When food and drink was pure and heavenly

And was cooked with love environment friendly                       bottles

Without microwaving the fire grilled food patiently

And consumption was just a mark of sufficiency

 

Awareness now created more so in Kenya country

Pollutants emerge as micro-, meso- or macro-debris

Unfavourable to land, waterways and atmospheric space

NEMA shuns usage of plastic bags by human race

cloth bag1

 

Limiting the manufacture, usage and incineration

Of the synthetic product that has toxic degradation

Enhance thy use of biodegradable production

And contribute thy effort at the planet’s conservation

paper packs

 

Your wasteful indulgence of this chemical contamination

Poisons many a species to their precious life’s termination

Plead dear Man do not cause this destruction escalation

Wildlife shall bless thy for bringing in plastic reduction

 

 

The modern man that grew from the past ages

Be it Ice -age, Stone-age, or many vast ages

Has unpleasantly been titled the man of Garb-ages

He needs to return in sanity to be counted among sages.

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—————————————————————————————————————————————–IN THE MEDIA:

Published as Poem of the Month October in The Asian Weekly edition 373 – 13th to 19th October 2017

BAG BAN POEM

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MEMORIES: A Father’s exit

Losing a parent is never an easy scenario. The very parent whom one takes for granted at most times leaves behind a gaping vacuum in one’s heart . Acceptance! yes of course! one does accept the death of a parent and moves on in life having no other option. Grief! yes that too. Grief plays up a big role in slowing down one’s progress in the material world but in a hidden manner it enhances one’s progress of the spiritualist manner.

Having lost my father in 1995 I have well lived a life till now. The initial sentiment of shock is still fresh in my mind to this date. Daddy was a very prominent person in my life. I couldn’t imagine a life without his physical presence. Not only was I under shock, saddened and worried about my elder brother and mother who lived with him I found myself staring into a stark reality.

Upon receiving the news of his death I first felt cheated. Cheated! yes I did feel so. I felt cheated by mummy, my brother and my uncle who had been assuring me of his recovery . They meant well of course as they did not want me to travel to see daddy in the hospital during my pregnancy. I felt cheated by the Mother Goddess whom I had worshipped ardently. Couldn’t she save him for me? I sat afront her idol to question and found an answer almost immediately. Before I could even cry in sorrow I heard an inner voice telling me, ” did you not learn that all earthly relations are temporary. The only permanent relationship you have is with God”.

This hit me hard. Yes, my grandmother (whom I called Amma) had emphasized on this statement in the hymn she often sang aloud ,” matlab ji  atheyi dosti, matlab jo parivar. matlab ja sab maaet, matlab jo sansaar…..”. It meant that all relationships, friendships and society is there for a purpose only. Did that mean daddy was my father for a purpose? I wondered as I looked up at the idol of the goddess expecting some comfort from my newly discovered true relationship.

Grief was beginning to set up space in my heart when my son came up to me. In his little effort to divert my attention from the sad occurrence he pointed out towards the glowing moon in the sky which in his words was, ” a very big golden moon”. It was indeed Sharad Purnima the next day and since our childhood (my two brothers and I) mummy had laid utmost importance to the full moon of Sharad Purnima.

Along with the grief came in flashback of beautiful memories of the whole family on the terrace of our house in New Delhi. Mummy would make us all thread a needle in pure moonlight as she believed in it to enhance our eyesight. Why, I had even forgotten all about it till my attention was drawn towards the moon that night. This was an evening of revelations and realizations. I was now fatherless yet I found I had a greater Father who would never abandon me. I looked up towards the sky expecting some sort of a signal from daddy.  Perhaps he could say a final bye, pass on a final kiss. All i saw was a plain moonlit sky. In my grief I don’t remember if I saw any stars.

We prepared for our travel to Dubai from Nairobi – Myself accompanied by my husband and our daughter and son. How I regretted not having travelled a few days earlier. It would have been better to go and meet him in person rather than meeting his lifeless body that ironically lay there at mercy of others for its disposal. In his life he was a moral and financial support for many that we knew and many that we never knew. Death can be such a robber, stealing away all of one’s attributes and possessions.

I looked in my elder brother’s face. He seemed to have matured within a couple of days. There were those visible stress lines emerged on his forehead from somewhere. I looked up at my mother. Though broken down by emotions she was the strongest person around. She kept guiding us all. When daddy’s body was being prepared for his last journey out of the house she dared the crowd that had gathered, went to give her last respects and love to daddy. Someone from among the gathered relatives tried to stop me from going near daddy in my pregnant state. It was a silly belief that a pregnant woman may not go near a dead person. I protested and mummy supported me at that time. She had dared the people once again and allowed me to touch my father one last time.

A chest full of questions were emerging in my mind. How will mummy live without daddy?How will my brothers manage such a big business spread in various countries? Who will look after them all? How will the properties be managed without him being around? Yet, in his death, he left behind his strength as a legacy. Within days the emotionally drained form of the entire family turned stronger as each one of us picked up our threads and took upon new responsibilities.

It was a silent power that had gradually lifted its head in each one. My uncle who until daddy’s death hadn’t taken any major decisions became the head of the family. He suddenly seemed to have gathered a new wisdom that helped him manage the business and family affairs with enhanced maturity. No longer was he concerned only about his wife and children. He took charge of his brother’s family too.

Mummy found it harsh living without her partener but in a couple of years she accepted her widowed status with utmost grace and smartness.  Being prudent about her financial status and dominance in family matters she carved a significant place for herself as the maternal head of the entire extended family. She found solace in her spiritual findings without letting it overpower her lifestyle. Although she couldn’t be labelled a fashionista, she draped herself stylishly and poised in elegant grooming skills.

We siblings gradually found our own strengths taking birth out of our grief. Our spiritual connection gained intelligence sense and we all began mastering our skills in various fields. My brothers never mentioned about visits by daddy in spirit form but I was constantly guided by him. To me it seemed he became closer to me in death than in life.  Death had cleared away the physical distances of the living world. He teased me frequently, played the naughty angel tricks, warned me of forthcoming happenings.

I felt privileged and very special by his visits of which some were not at all visual. At times he came as a voice in my head (not in my ears), at times he came as a thought and sometimes he came as a smell. I often felt him by his perfume that he used while alive, and that usually happened while I was praying. Then one fine day I decided I must not be selfish and revel in this pleasure. I told daddy in my mind that he was free to move on and I would be fine without him. Yes, I am fine indeed but I miss him dearly even after twenty two years.

My passion for writing took birth after daddy’s death as I wrote his eulogies and poured out my grief as poetry. I never knew I had the talent. Gradually I started getting my write -ups published. My entry into the world of journalism had begun thanks to the inspiration that came as grief. Daddy made an exit but stays on with me through my thoughts, deeds and words.

 

YOU ARE MISSED

You may be gone but not forgotten

You may be dead but memory strengthen

Each day through me you live herein

You are missed despite being within

 

I long for your sweet voice to my ears

I long for those Friday morning calls

That you made each week after week

I yearn for you to ask on me and mine

If all was well with the children thine

 

I know not if others miss you ever so

The pain in my heart tends to grow

Each day of being separated from you

Oh! Mummy to stay without you

Is a price too heavy to be paid

There’s so much left to be said

 

How do I communicate with you?

My phone calls cannot reach you

The world has shown its ugly face

Some selfish ones have lost their grace

Since you went missing from trace

A vacuum formed in my heart space

 

I wait now for the day to come

When you and I can be one

I come to receive your welcome

Together with you my dad shall come

 

A freedom that you have gained

I wish for it now as I live pained

Though happy I am mum for you

You deserted misery and flew

Leaving behind the grieving few

A joyful journey to a world new

 

 

 

 

PRAYERS

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Prayers thine keep you going strong
Abandon them not for time so long
In distress and in thy times great
Its prayers that help you pull along.

A silent conversation with head bent
Communication of your heart strand
Needs no words outwardly heard
When in prayers you firmly do stand.

A story of the ultimate trust you hold
In faith your unheard tales are told
To the One that is for one and all
With his moral strength you turn bold.

An earnest word shared of inner desire
When in wants and failures you perspire
The withholding grip it passes on to thou
Prayers help you balance and doth inspire.

As life drowns with unhappiness shoals
Make gratitude and forgiveness your goals
Living in acceptance and simply moving on
Prayerful comfort becomes live saving floats.

A celebration and a life’s moment of pride or joy
When you are not so timid, shy, reserved or coy
Prayers enhance thy treasured happiness
When you treat it with respect and not unholy ploy.

A grief and a loss of your loving dear one
In sadness makes your heart painfully churn
Praying to the Almighty for loved ones soul
Soothes your sentiments in a satisfying turn.

A man of sharing and caring for whoever
Liveth in eternal peace and bliss forever
For selflessness being a form of prayer
Shakes up no faith come situations whatsoever.

A candle, an incense or lamps how so many
An altar, a mat, a monastery or the bells uncanny
All symbols of sacred serene perfection
Prayers lead from falling and end your tyranny.

A devotion that silent worship thine demands
Bound by none of the many religious commands
A relationship with the Supreme doth play
The rules of the inner self lay your aura surrounds.

—————————————————————————————————————————————-

IN THE MEDIA:

Poem of the month: September 2017

published in The Asian Weekly : Edition 367: (September 01st – 07th, 2017) 

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TAW PRAYERS

 

THE AGED COUPLE

The vacant eyes filled with stories untold
The hollow looks missed the glories’ unfold
With wrinkled hands and trembling fingers
His lean arms did gesture of sheer weakness

The voiceless words conveyed a message
The silent notes sung within the free mind
With lips unmoved a lot that had moved
Her quiet tales spoke of the untold finds

The gaze fixated to wonder where
The eyelids that had forgotten to flare
With an expressionless queasy stare
His face doth display an expressive affair

The legs fragile that went unmoved
The steps that only the chair did move
With the press of the buttons that obeyed
Her pace was minded by her wheelchair

The body that constantly needed rest
The layers of clothes and the cap with a crest
With the head rolling over towards a side
His fatigued self dozed off without a headrest

The matching scarf and the draped shawl
The thick long socks and the curly locks
With the tired arms that held the bag
Her agony of solitude cried as old age crawls

The disinterest in the newspapers and books
The listening to radio with partly deaf ears
With senses all five losing their strength
His boredom had outlived all forms of ennui

The holding of hands of each other tight
The moving of wheelchairs together in sunlight
With Old age creeping through each emotion
Their Life typical of loneliness amongst commotion

The aged centenarian couple had seen it all
The aged old couple had lived & experienced it all
The fun and frolic of young age that once was
Their stay in a Home for Aged is now their fate

The togetherness in life a blessing bountiful
The couple that grew through trials plentiful
With challenges and victories faced as a gift
The Aged couple in celebration of life merciful​

The memories of the beautiful days of yore​
The mighty old couple in love to the core
Withstood they have the time based test
For they emerged from the Almighty’s nest

 


​In the media:

Poem of the Month : August 2015

published in The Asian Weekly edition 363 ,04 to 10 August 2017

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lhsg in TAW 363

UNGRATEFUL!

The most ungrateful being of God

that is “me” now and the “me” in past.

Let me strive to turn a new leaf

from ungratefulness to be grateful.

fussy-eater

When in childhood I did cry….

and fuss over the foods without a shame

Mom said all the foods I must try….

I gave her scornful looks with the ugly glare

She would give up and cook once again..

and I  thought that’s how I made her tame.

FUSSY BOY

I was ungrateful, sure I was…

For I valued not her love and care….

that could see not her child go hungry to bed.

Whence I grew, I didn’t look back…..

at the numerous hours dad struggled outdoors.

While mum played with me and cared for me

although she was exhausted doing plenty chores.

 

I never expressed any gratitude for the efforts

that made me rise and shine a capable man.

An occasional word of thankfulness I did utter

when I got a new toy car or my cricket bat….

and I flashed those with pride wherever I sat.

unruly-children

I saw to be grateful at the worldly objects of pleasure

But failed to appreciate the bigger gift of their upbringing.

I hated the early schooling years of education

that now I realise was one of the most precious of gifts

for which they struggled and even cut corners

so I became that successful man they wished to see.

 

Ungrateful I have been all my life as I flash back

Those demands they fulfilled of vacations abroad

that came somewhat dearly but nevertheless.

The branded stuff that became my choice…

was handed down with glee without a thought….

and at most times without a fuss.

milwood shouting

Did I ever feel grateful for that luxury?

I fretted and fumed,

yet again and again….

That I didn’t like their restrictions….

though they said they thought well of me

How could I be so selfish, the child I was..

unappreciative and complainful.

 

I saw not the hidden burden of the loans

and even failed to observe the tears held behind

as mother wiped her face in pretence .

Oh! I am so ashamed, so very ashamed

of the ungrateful being of God I am.

That now I realize all those pains

and the silent heartaches….

As I upbring my little ones….

with all the care that I may dare.

 

Remembering dad’s long working hours endless

and mum’s nostalgic embrace boundless

And now I express my gratitude

and ask of their forgiveness

at being so blind to their loved ness

when they are ageing and need my care.

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I ask thee God to give me strength

to return some favours towards their end

of keeping them happy and content

without any malice or selfishness.