Best Poems From
(28th August 1961)
In a lonely path way
Away from the crowd
Leading towards a land of
Natural vegetation, I
When walking down as a lone pedestrian.
I am not what I am seen around
My body like a shadow follows me,
I am moving much ahead of my body
And the body just moves behind
Like an automatic doll moves
With a censored command along the way
That is what actually designed.
I see the plight
Of my mundane body all along
How helpless it is?
Though this poor body holds
All my ego and vanity,
It gets little of my attention
When in peril I know
It is deserted desperately
Once the scheme of things are over
Or when it is unable
Of holding the burden of my emotions
It becomes an innocent victim
Of all my selfish design
All things I possess vanish
When the body departs
But I never extinct nor die
I never vanish
I move on and on, till I can.
Except using as a toll of my expression
What relation I do have with this body
It is destined to perish.
My visible form will mingle as a part
Of nature and loose its identity
For which I am known to the world.
But I would remain as it is.
A silent spectator I am to all such happenings.
I am neither bound by my consciousness
Nor the body, I possess.
But like all other worldly things in the nature,
The body decomposes deserting the consciousness.
That stays back,
With all the information it gathers
In the passage of time like a pen-drive
That stores the data in it.
The information is like seeds.
When soul lands up in a body,
The consciousness germinates to act upon
Like the seed gets germinated in the
Soil and starts showing the result
In births after births till the matter is complete.
It is like the dirty water that settles down
Through sedimentation on deposit of slit down below,
The water gets cleaned and becomes purified,
Similarly, when the consciousness starts yielding its result,
The scores of the past matters get gradually settled.
But I realise the past events are encoded out of the
Consciousness and connected
To me with its pristine serenity as a data-less pen-drive
Time ripens then to store the valuables in it.
A new beginning ushers a journey afresh
For me towards eternity
At that very moment I comprehend
That the new journey begins again
And I set out the journey alone
Nobody accompanies me all through my journey
Even I live in the midst of everybody.
We were together for some time
He was a good friend but a bad family man
He had his own rules in life. Thus,
did not care to take up anyone's advice
As a result, developed many bad habits in the long run
And his vices got him trapped now and then
Neither his wife nor children could persuade him
to give up his undesirable habits
All efforts of near and dear ones went in vain
to dissuade him from wrong doings
Day by day the situation went out of control
Eventually the unwanted that was to happen
as the consequence of the misdeeds happened
He was declared bankrupt by his bankers
The sudden blow of this unanticipated occurrence shattered him
He became emotionally devastated and suffered a massive brain stroke
And ultimately succumbed to that fatal mishap
His bereaved family members had no words to mourn the untimely demise
On the other hand they all were cursing their fate
As no alternate source of livelihood was available at hand
They worriedly started looking immediately for a makeshift dwelling place
I witnessed as a mute spectator to all such incidents
those so fast happened to the family of an errant friend
Who was so reckless in life and never careful
The misfortune that befell distressed the family entirely
could have been eschewed effectively with self restraint
and self realisation of only one man
That has been perturbing me again and again since then.
She was like a serene blooming flower
When misfortune befell on her
Now she is dwindling in confusion to know
What is her identity? A Cambodian or Indian
Or she is a part of this humankind, a human being
A homosapien, a kid, belongs to the entire humanity
What is her fault? Was it a curse to be born in this world?
A child to the couple of Cambodian and Indian origin
How could the mother send a three year old child to India?
After the father deserted the mother
And left for his country leaving Cambodia, the native land of her
Neither the father nor the grand parents accepted the kid
On her arrival on whom she would have depended
The kid lived on begging finding no alternate living.
She grew up and became a prey of the intemperate father
And got physically exploited by the man & his friends
When she was six year old only and quite ignorant
Of the complexity of the mundane world
How could she unravel the knavery of the deceitful persons?
A victim of lust and passion of her father for two years
Which she finally divulged before the grand mother in an occasion
Where she met her in seclusion
Thank to her courage and temerity that she could dare
To disclose her ordeal before the grand mother
Who could at last realize the misery of the child?
At least good sense prevailed on grand parents after that occasion
The victim was saved from the atrocity
And brutality of the dreaded man thereafter
Law has taken care of the oppressor
At present who is languishing in jail
But what does the child get for her persecution
Would she get back her childhood and innocence?
Has the God closed his eyes or gone blind?
Or preferred to eschew witnessing the heinous crime
After all, what is her fault?
For what blunder she is subjected to such oppression
Mental trauma and physical torture?
Could she ever believe the human beings on earth?
When father tormented her on whom
She would have relied on for safety and security
When God is dead and nonexistent here, who else will come forward?
Extending support and security to her in future
Could she forget this misfortune as a nightmare?
Could any one erase the scars of despair engraved in her mind?
I am speechless, I can only lament quietly for the misfortune
And express my heartfelt love and affect ion
In such a critical juncture of her life
Can this short of atrocious act be prevented on earth?
SOUND OF WORDS
When an untouched is touched
By the sound of words
A volcano erupts
A flash flood overflows
Submerging all bits and bounds
Dreams conquer to the state of mind unilaterally.
The emotions are shared
Through the chord of sound
When words fixate in penance
To exchange the motions of emotion
The words are not words then.
Impotent words dearth in feeling
Find shelter in hibernation
And are lost indigently in the oblivion
Amidst of absolute silence for a moment.
Feelings over power words
And reign over mind and heart
Words fail to react
And lament in the loneliness.
Time never waits
And waits for none
It goes out of hand
Questions remain as questions
Answers are still in the
Form of seed
Hidden in the womb
Of mother earth passionately
Longing for germination.
The telephonic contact ends
Though the chord of sound is
Next moment thousand
And the exchange of sound perpetuates
Till flash flood reappears.