Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Sunday, March 11, 2007

I still love Kodai

Following the meandering
Curves of your crystal brooks;

Biking through the less-traveled
Nerves of your shimmering hamlets;

Hiking on your enthusing knolls,
Sniffing the earthly aroma;

Encountering the fierce stare
Of the majestic lone bison;

Bliss of the whisperings creeks
Gracing your evergreen shola;

Relishing the luscious comb
Brimming with glittering honey;

Brushing off the lush green tress
Dangling of your pine trees;

Sprinkling of the delicate
Fragrant petals of your flowers;

Sinking in the orchestrated
Serenades of the rattling beetles;

Lying in trance between the
Cushy bosoms of your prairie;

These cherished memoirs of the past
Remain dissolved in my dreams.

Though we have abandoned each other,
The way I miss you In my sleepless nights,
Is the only proof to reassure that,
I love you always and forever.

Thursday, March 08, 2007

Celebrating Womanhood


Though my last year's post on the Women's day (Women's Day, A joke) focussed on the maladies of the unempowered women of India, this year I have decided to post on the ever empowered womanhood.

Woman is the radiance of God, she is not just a beloved.
She is the Creator. Rejoice in your womanhood.

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

The Path

Where darkness is the darkest,
Where wilderness is the wildest,
Where forest is the densest,
Lone stands a calf in loss .

In the hope of finding its herd,
Wades through the mounting darkness,
Across the Uphill and down dale,
Forging a tortuous path.

Perchance, a dog spots the path,

Treads to where it leads,
Only to stop where it ends,
At the shattered bones of the calf.

Forges that path farther hill,
Hobbles through the curves and crooks,
Wrecked, Weary and wounded,
Crosses the forest intact.

A ram with his flock of sheep,
On seeing the path wide open,
Leads its flock across the hill,
Paving the pathway wide.

The man treads across the same path,
Turing right and left along,
Croucing down and burshing the obatscles,
Ever cursing the tedious path.

Though rational in blaming ways,
Never thought of an alternate way,
Turing right and left all day,
When straight in-line is the shortest.

The path passed through the years,
To a main street of a avenue;
To a highway of a town;
To a expressway of a city.

The traffic swallowed the path,
Fuming and fretting as always,
At the worst possible alignment,
Hopeless, man remained.

The forest laughed at the man,
Who blindly follows any path,
Never caring to reason himself,
To see if it suites him the best.

Note: Adopted from a parable I have read.

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

Friday, March 02, 2007