Upcoming 25th Year Reunion

Not all were dear friends, some were just incidental batch-mates,

And then there was that lonesome crush - with whom I never went for dates. 

The hostel and the department, were much more close knit, 

While the dep was divided by marks and grades, by wings the hostel was split. 

 

One part of me is quite excited, old memories and old friends, 

Another part is quite anxious, how I stack against those, who earn in lakhs of tens.

While branches separated earlier, now it would be wealth and lifestyle,

While some like me will board a train, others will fly business, and book a seat aisle.   

One part of me can't bear to wait, to once more hear foul words,

Another part dreads when they'll find out- I still write poems- about caged birds. 

A poet struggling in college times, a poet struggling now, 

I'm still the same old, same old dud, though they may have changed and how!

I'm sure when we meet, most of the talk, will be who we are and what we have done,  

That I've lived life on my terms and am happy - is a claim I can make - that is second to none.  

Note: This poem is a part of a collection of poems titled Flotsam and Jetsam. You can read them below: 

If you are in India you can buy a copy from either Amazon or Flipkart. 

If you are outside India, you can order a digital copy here.  

Thanks for supporting me and my work!

Back Cover Description

Acknowledgement  

Preface

1. The Child Unearthed

2. The Last Straw 

3. Using the S word 

4. The Beauty And The Beast 

5. Owning Full Stack 

6. Wishes Granted. Amen.  

7. Owning Full Stack - part 2 

8. Upcoming 25th Year Reunion

9. To Free Or Not To Free 

10. Ab Tak 24 ... 

11. The Art Of Saving Lives 

12. Split And Cracked 

13. To Be Or Not To Be 

14. Using ChatGPT 

15. Boys Don't Cry 

16. Instant Recharge

17. Peepli Live 

18. Mark My Words  

19. In The Spotlight

20. Birthday Celebrations  

21. To The-One-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named 

A Timely Thanks

I'm grateful for life, for the beauty around,

That I'm not circled by trolls, only humans abound. 

Thankful to the nature, to the birds that sing, 

To a love that's deep, and not a casual fling. 

I feel it deeply, but I'm short on words,

Instead of gift of gab, I'm tongue tied like nerds,

Don't know why, its so difficult to say, 

'Thank You' to a person, who's now dead and away. 

If you could see me express, in a poem my debt,

You would be elevated and inspired, moved to tears, I bet. 

Its hard to acknowledge, I can never thank enough,

By Paying It Forward, I plan to forget that stuff. 

 

Gratitude is good, it heals your heart,  

To say timely Thanks, is a much needed art.

Growth and Transformation

Some wanted to own a Ferrari, others focused on well-being,

When I started all I cared, was to be a good human being. 

But that wasn't alluring enough, so I set my goals high -

To prevent the Third world War, as I thought the end was nigh.

 

The World War never happened, plunging me into anonymity,

I had failed the foreign service test, but discovered equanimity.  

Leaving the past behind me, I got high on learning,

The passion for psychology, finally resulted in an earning. 

To say that I've turned pragmatic, doesn't do justice to my history, 

To make an impact, by rising up the ranks, explains the mystery-

Of why I am OK pulling people, or pushing them too hard,

And to reach my goals, my former self, I am ready to discard. 

They say growth happens, when you move, with open mind ahead,

I've become a tool to achieve an end, the human being is dead.

The Moving Target

Writing code, logical and true, 

Getting kicks from, debugging it too.

Zeros and Ones, slowly lost their charm,

I schemed to become, the more equal pig in the farm.

 

Managing people, getting out of them best,

So much wasted potential, how can I rest?

Played Pygmalion a lot, now its time to move, 

From blogging to a psychology career, is a point to prove.

Working with psychologists, leading a team, 

Making on ground impact, I with pride beam.

I've just now arrived, is it time to depart?

I want to be more deeply involved, play a more human part.

From coder to manager, to a psychology expert,

At the end, if I am not a poet, its still going to hurt.

Why dont I touch thee

Touch me not (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This may be seen as second part or continuation or new spin on  You can see, but mustn't touch.

Why don't I touch thee, let me count the ways;
I don't touch thee for sound reasons; pray, hear my case;
You are like a body of still water, that is clam, deep and godsend,
my touch will disturb and perturb you, with ripples that never end.

You are like a statuette of soft, but impressionist clay; perfect and untouched you're meant to be,
my touch will distort and disfigure you, with the impressions of an imbecile for all to see.  
you are like a gem that is crystalline and pure; delicate, shining and untainted,
my impure touch will stain you forever, with one of your facets now painted.

You are like a house of cards, that's just standing; each supporting the other -steady and fast,
my touch will crumble that composure, as you shatter under the weight of the memories past. 
You are like a touch-me-not flower, that's delicate, tempting and forbidden equal parts,
my touch will make you wither or shrink, and go forever in a shell, breaking many hearts.

but the forever reason I don't touch thee, I fear you are an illusion or a dream forlorn,
and my touching will make you disappear again, with me and my burnt fingers alone. 

Persona non grata

The more I pine to catch your glimpse, the more you tighten your veil and 'guise;
you taunt so well, keep me on toes, I'm almost kneeling and pleading, guys,
just a brief encounter, a smile- a frown- an indication that I do exist, I count,
at least derision, if not love,  on my frantic antics - to be a clown -

and somehow catch your eyes for once,and kindle memories of days gone by;
you didn't always run from me, nor hide, nor leave me high and dry;
we kept each other hooked and charmed, and now we don't even talk any more,
what happened, where did I err, what caused the friendship to go sore?

why do I have to scheme for now, to catch you off guard, sneak a peek,
let me have one long lasting look,  then you can vanish - that's all I seek.
neither photos, nor images, I promise to erase the memories of that eternal sunshine;
just tell me once, was that my crime- that forbidden dream- that I can make you mine?

No trials, no hearings, no criminal data, yet prosecuted under ad hoc TADA,
No formal goodbyes, no hesitating tata; silently made persona non grata.

The Fool's Quest: About this blog

This blog will serve as a counterpart to my psychology and neursocience blog The Mouse Trap.

This is supposed to be a literary blog, where I post my sonnets, poems and novellas and every thing else under the sun that can be reasonably associated with literature and can't be posted on my other blog. I have already written a book of sonnets and you can find it here and here.

I'll like to start with an epic-in-making that I am currently writing: It is called The Fool's Journey : or alternately, The Fool's Quest - so you know from where the title of the blog comes.


The Fool's quest is a poem in making and as such I would be adding pages as and when I write them. I request that you read in order and not in reverse order (as is common with blogs- you read the latest posts first) .