Tag Archives: poem

The Lamp Post on the 21st Street


The Lamp Post on the 21st Street

Braving the World, showing time the way,
Watching over them all like a Sheriff on beat.
The provenance of light in this bustling turf,
I am the Lamp Post on the 21st Street.

Countless winters, I’ve seen pass by me,
I’ve beheld this land through a well lit flame.
A thousand moons ago they set me here first,
I was similar to others, but I wasn’t the same.

Lined up in splendid array, my brothers and Me,
We guarded the nights with a twinkle in our eyes.
Forged out of the finest metals, we stood tall,
But time whithered most of us to our sad demise.

But I’ve stood through it as I saw the others fall,
Some crumbling to rust, some being uprooted out,
To make way for the future we were renounced to scrap,
Tucked away in a corner, lucky I wasn’t in progress’ route.

I’ve seen this prized land changing hands amongst kings,
I’ve seen tyranny, I’ve seen blood color my feet red.
Cries for freedom replaced by songs of incessant joy,
I’ve been the hub of festivities when the tyrants fled.

The winds of change have swept scars on my form,
The sands of time have furrowed a part of me to rust.
My quaint little lane is now the center of a Street,
This mean new city now bathes me in slime and dust.

The flame is gone, it’s replaced by bulbs instead,
The dusty paths of past are now graves under black tar.
Mortals walk past me with burden of a new bad world.
The only things lingering are memories and the night stars.

It isn’t all that bad, life yet survives around me,
Happy little street urchins play under me without fret.
Broken hearts still lean on me finding solace in my shadows.
Seeking the light of love perhaps, in my dark silhouette.

My rich, black coat, has been reduced to crumbs,
Love stories scribbled on the canvas of my trunk.
Packs of street dogs mark their territory around me.
I’m covered with banners notices and every other junk.

Once in four years when something important happens,
A few people hurry up to clean me and hide my blots.
I get cleaned, decked up with a fresh coat of black,
One day of indulgence after four tainted years of rot.

But I’ve survived so long, and will survive again,
Standing tall and watching life mill around me.
Watching the poor souls going about their chores.
Never realizing the wonderful life I’ve once seen.

Braving the World, showing time the way,
Watching over them all like a Sheriff on beat.
The provenance of light in this bustling turf,
I am the Lamp Post on the 21st Street.

-X-

1 Comment

Filed under Nostalgia, Poetry

Breathtaker


Tired of tired fingers, turning its pages again.
An old, open novel, fanned down on my chest in disdain,
As tired eyes, sought oasis in the desert of my languor,
I scoured the world, through the halved window of my train.

Ten and two hours’d tired me, yet I had more time to kill.
Wrapped up tight in stolidity to cheat the winter chill.
And then it came and hit me, like a fresh breath of fragrant air.
In the melee of a moving train, time seemed to stop still.

A thing of beauty is joy for ever, odists say.
I gasped for words to describe elegance walking my way.
An Angel in Blue, a creature of stupendous perfection,
Any eulogy of her heavenly beauty, seemed a lame cliche.

Like clear sparkling water, that rushes down a splendid ravine,
Like a new tender leaf swaying in the breeze of God’s design.
She came and sat herself on that vacant seat before me
No Earthly synonym of beauty could match her form divine.

My tired, slouching body, found an excuse to sit up straight.
The reason of my existence, suddenly seemed to fall in place.
Like the bright blue moon, veiled behind the dark clouds of night.
My heart skipped a few beats when her dark locks fell over her face.

Day turned to night, and then night turned back to day.
I stayed a silent admirer, but not a word did she say.
She undesigned alluring gaze made me weak at the knees.
God’d been unfair to her, He must’ve took ages to make her this way.

And then like how she’d come, she was gone in a flash.
Feeling her way through the compartment, smiling, holding her father’s hands.
I stood there shocked, muted, I wanted so much to say.
She’d left her Braille books behind, but she’d taken my breath away.

-X-

6 Comments

Filed under Poetry, Romance, Stories

Gotta Get Going – My 3G Life


This is my humble, little, lyrical entry to the Indiblogger – Tata Docomo “What is 3G life to you?” Contest. Check out what 3G is about, powered by the world leaders in 3G.

—x—

 

Gotta Get Going…

 

My 3G Life


Streamed on my phone, last night’s ODI ended at one,
No wonder getting up in morning didn’t seem too fun,
But then today’s Monday, and Mom might call me anytime.
And I wouldn’t want her to see me asleep during Facetime.

So I jump out of bed, grabs the day’s gazettes.
Not from the porch, but on my trusty old tablet.
I check my emails, there’s a presentation that needs some fixing.
Boss wants it immediately, I download it and get working.

So before no time, I’ve edited and sent the presentation,
while swinging to my favourite tunes from the internet radio station.
And all this on my tablet and phone, without even opening the laptop.
Which I only use when missus is searching video recipes on mobile for mutton chops.

So the phone gets docked, and becomes a full-fledged music player,
While I get ready for office after a warm, refreshing, shower.
I remember that tune that has been stuck in my head so long,
I hum it to my phone and it searches and finds me the name of the song.

I start to office, and my phone sits on my car’s dashboard,
The ever trusty GPS with detailed maps and my favourite routes stored.
Traffic is mean, but I hardly get in stuck in these streets.
My trusty Traffic App re-routes me using live traffic feeds.

At office work takes precedence, but then there is always room for fun,
A quick, little game, some social networking, gets a lot of things done.
The newly married Ramesh emails his Reception photo from Rome.
Picasa is blocked in office, so I see them in hi-res on the phone.

At lunch, I realize its Kirthi’s birthday tomorrow and I don’t have time,
To buy her a gift, so I order her favourite flowers online.
And during checkout, Boss calls up, wants some information.
I speak to him while continuing the payment, without disconnection.

And when works done, I wrap up for the day and start for home.
I’m reminded there is a party to attend by the missus on the phone.
I pick her up and we reach the place, looking good,
She chats up with her friends, bored, I stick to Facebook.

And then suddenly she remembers that her mobile bill is to be paid,
Though the bills have come down significantly, it was still delayed.
I take out my phone and she looks at it and smiles.
She remembers my banking app and knows I can pay bills on the fly.

On our way back, we stop at a traffic signal just near our street,
She looks at the huge banner of a movie soon to be released.
I know it stars her favorite actor and this she really wants to see.
I book tickets for the opening night right at the signal, instantly.

And thus my regular day, like any other, comes to an end.
There is so much that was done, with so little time to spend.
No science fiction this, all of this can be reality.
Gotta Get Going… My Tata Docomo 3G life is calling for me…

 

—x—


7 Comments

Filed under Poetry, Uncategorized

The Life of Some


Cosy bed to rest tired limbs for the night.
Three square meals a day, no poverty to fight.
No uncurable ailment to tie you to bed.
A peaceful abode with running water and light.
A loving family to call your own.
Friends to cheer you up when chips are down.
A little bit of money saved away for a rainy day.
A steady little job, to keep life going on.
A blessing of all good things under the sun.
No unnecessary worries, just happiness and fun.

Unfulfilled dreams of many…
…Unappreciated, insatiable, life of some.

4 Comments

Filed under General, Poetry

She, Me, And A Love Story


Team This post has been published by me as a team member of Tiger Trails Team for the SUPER 6 round of Bloggers Premier League (BPL) – The first ever unique, elite team blogging event in the history of blogging world. To catch the BPL action and also be part of future editions and other contests, visit and register at Cafe GingerChai

They say, Love is hopelessly blind,
A feeling that can make you laugh and cry.
I thought, these words, belonged to love songs, alone,
Until, that day, I saw her pass me by.

I considered myself a bad, ‘Accidental Poet‘,
So bad, that I made ‘site’ rhyme with ‘with’.
But this time I confess, this was no accident,
It was she who made me a full-fledged lyricist.

It was purely, Love at First Sight,
When I saw her, and fell in love, sometime back.
But not surprisingly, I wasn’t her only admirer,
I was the proverbial – ‘Needle in a Haystack‘.

I’ve seen her, going out with other men,
And my poor heart, skipped a beat, each time.
A dark cloud of gloom, crept over my tiny heart.
But deep inside I always knew, she was going to be mine.

There were a few strange ones, who hated her,
A few mortals, who I thought, needed vision correction.
I’ve spent my energy in explaining to that crowd,
That the cutie, that she is, she has no competition.

After a while, I had almost given up,
I was sure on this story, remaining a fiction.
I thought, my love epic had come to a premature end.
But then, science can’t explain the laws of attraction.

And then, that day, she saw me with her big round eyes,
I was head over heels, hopelessly in love again.
Through that thick sheet of glass I could see her smile,
I knew it was time to break open the Champagne.

I asked her for her hand in marriage,
I promised I would take good care of her.
She said nothing, but smiled in affirmation,
And I knew, we’ll be spending our lives together.

I spent a long time convincing my parents,
They thought, she was just too good for me.
She was a spoilt, rich and glamourous girl,
While a plain and simple professional, I was trying to be.

But love, they say, knows no odds,
Opposites attract with brute magnetism.
It is when each partner completes the other,
And Life becomes colourful as light through prism.

Our coming togeter, now had everyone’s approval,
There was still a tiny problem, however.
I still had to take care of the marriage expenses,
And as luck would have it then, I was a pauper.

I didn’t think twice and loaned money from the Bank.
For a rate of interest, that made the Banker smile.
I was doing this for the love of my life,
And I knew, I would be repaying this for a while.

And then one day, it all fell into place,
And the both of us were solemnized in a quiet ceremony.
It happened in her house in a quiet little corner,
She and Me were thus bound in Holy Matrimony.

She was all dressed up, looking beautiful as ever,
While I looked as shabby as I ever could be.
But even then people saw us and remarked,
We looked every bit the couple that we were meant to be.

And finally I took her home, amidst rousing reception,
As friends and family rejoiced, a few had concerns with her colour.
But, deep inside, my love for her had only started growing,
My Little Red Car and Me were just made for each other.


—x—

42 Comments

Filed under Humor, Poetry, Romance, Stories

Mother


Mother…

You gave me life, you brought me into this world,
Enduring pain that no other mortal could bear.
You cared and loved me like no one ever could,
You quitely shed a tear when I wasn’t there.

You made me the man, that I’m now.
And I would owe everything I have, to you forever.
I wondered where you got all that strength and love.
You’re a goddess, but you chose to be called a Mother.

– To an Angel, a Goddess… my Mother

Love you Mom… 🙂

6 Comments

Filed under Poetry

Escape


This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 10; the tenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Escape

He stood there in the shadows, hidden away from all
Time stood still, with a bruised knee, he hid in the dark.
And as light of the day faded, silence echoed in the night.
You’d hear no soul, except hushed beats of a scared heart

His heart nursed a fear that his mind was aware of,
But he fought with that and stood his ground.
He wiped that stream of sweat with his dirty hands,
But he made no sound lest he would be found.

With each beat of footsteps he heard them coming for him.
He prayed to the almighty like he had done never before.
But nobody knew where he had hid himself that night.
And that was exactly what he had hoped fervently for.

He stood there motionless, while time flew by.
They hadn’t found him yet, that gave him immense joy.
He couldn’t afford to be found, not this time atleast.
There was a lot at stake, it was part of a ploy.

And then at last, his stiff, hidden body relaxed,
He sighed relief and rubbed his knee he had scraped.
He heard faint cries of “You’re it!” from his friends far away,
And ran to them with a smile, proud of having escaped.

–oOo–

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.


35 Comments

Filed under Poetry