Thursday, June 14, 2012

The Giant


The majestic giant,
Leans against the skyline; defiant!
Inspiring awe & ardour,
Across the timeline; in splendor,
The weathered precipice,
Looms the magnificent edifice.
Unconquered by man or beast,
In time alone...is its tryst!
Compels a second glance,
That overwhelming expanse.
An unshakable thrill; a stirring,
Of an awe filled resilience pulsating,
Courses through every vein,
Makes every hair stand on end.
Aware....awareness of another being,
Knowing ...recognising what the eye (I) is seeing.
Behind the I (eye),
Beneath THE LIE,
Another giant says, "Hi!"
A transient glimpse, of that mystified,
Myth that every race has tried,
To bring into reality,
yet forced into everyday functionality,
Becoming a myth; living a triviality!
A fairy tale becomes the giant,
Like Gullivar & the Liliputians,
Hacked down & held down by Liliputian ropes,
Of hate, fear, shame, annhilism & dope.
Thus the Giant goes off to sleep,
Only to awaken when another greets,
Only to be sent back,
Convincing oneself ....its just that!
One beautiful unexpected moment,
To be experienced, maybe because God must be present,
Around that event or place,
So go on and construct a holy place,
To flag this place down, like a bar,
Where you can consume & forget who you are,
Transiently, momentarily if it may,
Awaken the giant from its hideaway,
And bring moments of clarity in its sway,
And a LIFE!......not worthy of throwing away!

-Shruti

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Madults

They are scary; be wary of adults.

They are an abominable cult. 

Its an irony, 

They find kids funny, 

When they are the joke's butt!

The ‘Happy’ river.

If you were not so full of trash,
Your saunter would have more panache.
If you were not so dark and dense,
In you I would have seen reflections
Of those gulmohars or the fence,
That run along your banks,
Spiking the perimeter, holding hands,
Walking along your long stretch,
Changing form and character, like out of a sketch,
Made by an amorous painter,
On an evening longing for that lost lover.
If you were not so trashed,
Those scraps of plastic and discards,
Would have been flowers and Mallards,
Floating in your serene flight,
Rippling and swirling in your delight.
Tumbling and tripping, hopping and skipping,
You go on yet… moving,
Moving … as is your nature.
Conforming to nature’s natural feature.
Moving a few,
Yet the unmoved zoo,
Of 'civilized' creatures.
Elegant and serene,
Even in that extreme
Demeaning treatment of you,
You seem not to have one grudge to pursue.
You revel in your flow,
Ebb and surge and glow,
In being yourself true,
Doing what you were meant to do,
Rise high or …low,
As seasons shower their love,
On you as they go by,
You just be.. and reply,
Symbolizing the eternal truth,
Love only needs 'to be'.. to exist.

If we only had cared,
You would have remained,
The ‘happy’ river that you were named!
-          Shru.

Friday, May 25, 2012

Serendipity!

Serendipity, Serendipity!
Aren't you Oh! so pretty?
Like a nubile lover,
With a generous favor,
You derail chosen destinies!

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Send me ...


Send me a post card,
Send me a postcard;
Tidings from afar!
Do send in a postcard,
For an eager silly heart.

Send me a laughter,
Send me a tear,
Send me my dear,
A picture souvenir;
A quaint memoir!

Chronicles; In a graphic mould,
Of stories untold;
Of the diverse worlds,
Embellished flirt,
Not but thousand words;

A transit in time,
A passage sublime.
Through those rusty lines,
Titillating the mind,
Awakening the child.

Summers call upon winters' bling
Autumn fall greets a sprightly spring
Blossoms exotic along them bring
Smiles and warmth, love and longing.
A yearning deep; a life stirring.

Send me a postcard,
A note from afar.
Send me a vision,
Of a wishing star.
Send me a postcard
And all that dreams are!

To my internal censor...

Censor, Censor, I wonder,
What is your devious play?
You hop and skip, into every nook,
Of my every waking day.

U R...

There's a brilliance you can't hide,
There's a spark you can't wish away,
Hide that sheer brightness,
That can blind the lights of day.

It’s the mellow of the night,
A fire burning bright.
A prancing, wanting child,
Hidden behind the fright.

Shackles of dogma,
Handcuffs of stigma,
A must diploma!
An adult’s carcinoma!

And so the child is lost,
Dreams forgot.
The ‘voice' blocked out.
Is THAT what success etched out?!!