Touch Me Tender

 Gautam's forte was Love and Pain,
           but this time Buddha smiled again;
When a Tibetan monk in Daharamsala said
           that to use Lord's name for this was bad.
As if Allah could laugh this off !
           or a nailed down Christ just shrug and scoff;
And sometime, someday by luck or chance
            instead of a smile their was a Tandav dance!

"The Hindu deities are made of stone
            they cant possibly dance" so declared the monk
" their left arms carrying flowers don't work --
            isn't it logic enough that those armed should be spared.
For if one exercises the hands in an unequal way
            you have malformed bodies; please no aberrations stray.
If the paralysis is over and you can be moved---
            Let the flowers move ahead of weapons crude;

At least don't malign Buddha,  
            the apostle of peace
Have a bomb for Hindu...
            but not for Humanity please! "
Behold the Poet of Humanity cursed
            in the defense of the unmoved his two penny words
" Trampled, buried under heaps of earth
            he has still survived without moving first!"

That button is no savior
             and neither is he a pretender
The laughing Buddha hysterically pleads
             that if ever you should---touch me tender.

 

PS: written in the immediate aftermath of Indias nuclear testing at pokhran under the leadership of AB Vajpayee.  

Fame In The Dock

 'An unexamined life is not worth living'--
so examine your life in full detail;
and if it lacks the depth and breadth you desire
and is nowhere near that fairy tale

Then pump some flesh of a celebrity fresh
and don't die starving off legends stale----
--Of people we should be---of people we aren't--
--Of people they cant be---of people they are.

Where he is HE, and you are also a bit of him;
and to sail through the night you have to track the star.
'Good Heavens, Don't tell us--We cant believe'
that he's not the poster that decorates our walls!

He sold himself to you one day-stock, barrel and lock;
He was captive before, but now he is free---and the Fame is in the Dock.

If I Die Tonight

Let there be no moonlight, nor morning thereafter,

Or dusk or dawn--if I die tonight.
Let the forests go burning, let the paths go blind,

Let the journey be abandoned --if I die tonight.

Let wars be fought, let blood be sought,

Let suffering be wrought-if I die tonight.
Let the poem go unread, let the tears go dry,

Let the fire subside--if I die tonight.

Let the promise of angels be sustained by myths

Let them believe in me as I never did,
Let them forget themselves, let them look towards the sky,
Let it be high and dry---If I die tonight.

Let Life not change from what it is now

And let them live that life---if I die tonight.

Tell Simmi That I loved Her

 Tell Monu that I'm sorry-
             -that I couldn't keep my promise-
Gift him a bat when he grows up
             and don't tell him about my drudgery.
Tell him his grandpa was a fine man
             who fought till his dying day
Don't let him read my poems
            and say whatever you think I should say
and tell Simmi that I loved her.

Tell Mr. Mukherjee not to get worried--
--that treasure-hunt clue has no meaning--
He always used to crack so fast,
I thought I'd pull a fast one too.
Tell him to forget that quarter-
-didn't I promise that I'll never return.
Tell him that I've won this race too
he's still waiting for his turn
and tell Simmi that I loved her.

Tell my sons not to fight over property
I've already spent most of it;
of the remaining I've divided equally;
amongst grandchildren--I've made a will;
Of my debts let them claim responsibility-
or let the Government take care of it
and tell them about the prime of my life
How I never lacked any means
Tell them about my reckless donations
and tell them that's the way to live-
----and this is the way to die
and tell Simmi that I'll keep loving her.

Tell the world that I died a Poet's death,
although I couldn't live one
Tell them I loved this poverty and pain
in my next life beautiful poems will come.
Tell them I voted for the 'fascist' party
and haven't ever felt guilty about that;
Tell them I wept on the day of the revolution-
tell them this is not the first time I would die
and tell Simmi I loved her throughout.

Tell them I wanted to be a diplomat
that I wished for the Govt. of the World
Tell Subhash that he's the best friend I've got
he took the movement from where I left
--and wait--tell my boss from that stupid company-
that he shouldn't have said what he said.
Tell him that I don't even remember his name-
- -Tell him no one remembers his name--
while I had worked out miracles when I was his age.
Tell him that members of his staff
still write to me and send flowers and gifts
Tell him that I was sorry
but that he was a bigger asshole
and tell Simmi that she must have loved me too.

Tell Simmi I loved her on her wedding day,
and I never hated Sam;
Tell her I loved the man she loved,
Tell her Sam was my best friend.
Tell her I loved till her wedding day
and I really tried to forget
Tell her I deluded myself well and good
and never cared again;
But today I miss her much.

Tell Simmi I wished she was by my bedside
Tell her I had something to say.
Tell her I wasn't as weak as she thought
and always had the courage to propose again.
Tell her I was strong --
---at least on my deathbed-
-and before death brought me peace and freedom---
I did manage to mumble these words,
that I love her no more.

On The Dawn Of The Millennium

Let's live the way we want to live,
and let's change the way we die.
Let music flow from unhealed wounds
and let wounds be fortified.

Let's keep our fingers crossed tonight,
and let's hail the victory.
Let the bonds of love be forged anew
and let every one be free.

Let's raise a toast to Y2K,
and let's bid 99 goodbye.
Let peace be given a chance to fight
and let fights be pacified.

Let's change with the times- for better or for worse
and let's save the world tonight.

The Death Of The Unborn

 Your heart may swell with wonder as you watch
        your baby's first step in all it's glamour,
Ecstatic you may feel as you read in print
        the manuscript that sucked your youthful valor,
And your heart may dance as it discovers
        that it has started talking to some other kernel;
But can it be more joyous than the dawn of the eternal!

You may watch with awe and respect when you insist
        to prostitute your feelings in your works of art,
You may share with wonder the vision offered by the photograph
        that you felt was roll's indiscreet exposure in the past,
And your special goal that ties you with your love
        may appear dignified 'cause for it all soulmates cared;
But can anything equal the grace befitting the promiscuity of the unshared.

The range of masks that you so easily pull
        to camouflage and succeed may make you feel content,
A great work of art may feel safe and secure
        with it's aura of mystery preventing analysis of authorial intent,
And the world of love with which you wrapped yourself
        even now though you are naked prevents you from being forlorn;
But can it be more comforting than the protection offered by the unworn?

The charging of flower from the potential of seed
    may keep you spellbound with dazzling ease,
The glass which has nothing but a vow not to take
    while reflecting your face may forever lock your gaze,
And the splendor of horizon with its promise of tryst
    may by its magic make you never slow down the road;
But is this more fascinating than the beauty of the unbestowed ?

The center of worship around which you oscillate
    may equally feel the force which makes you circle with sate,
The gravity of situation may make you vacillate
    as you are gripped by forces that grow stronger as you run from fate,
And despite the ionic nature of your twin soul mate
    the vibrations may convince you that the bond is covalent and shared;
But what can be more real but the silent quivering of the unfelt !

You may be drawn to use your oratory to bring down on knees
    those who for years have been ruled by the charm of speech,
You may feel the pull of powers that you are able to generate
    by harnessing natural resources with technical expertise,
And you may be tempted to play in Love's seductive arena
    knowing that this emotion you have already tamed;
But what can be more attractive than the riding of the untamed !

As you painstakingly corroborate your aesthetics of life
    by elegant physical laws you may feel divine,
Your brain and vision may make you capture from crane
    how to distinguish the milk from the wine,
And the folds of your brain that hide your anger in dark
    may nurture it for use-- unfurling as you hit ground;
But alas its not half as ingenious as the harness of the unfound !

You may feel stressed as its inflicted on you
    that alone you have to rise above the highest towers,
The rose may feel doomed to be special amongst flowers
    and redden as it struggles to live up to its legendary powers,
And the non-verbal concepts may die under the weight
    of words they chose to wear to verbally break ground;
But what can be more demanding than the uniqueness of the uncrowned ?

The black spot in moon may catch your eyes as you watch
    the vain attempts of moon to hide it by waxing and waning,
The naive attempt by Krishna to blame his thefts on moon
    may reveal that even great men are not forthcoming about their past,
And the burning of Kamdev to ascertain he had risen above sex
    may make you realize that even Shiva needed self-deception to move towards the Goal
But what can be more revealing than the defense of the unblamed ! 

You may remember with affection the lacunae of pain
    from which your eyes' prowess to measure depths grew,
The love of Love that supersedes your love for her
    by its ordained agony may make enrich your view,
And you may cherish the courage that swept through your being
    by the ugliness of fate-wounds that you thereby sealed;
But what can be more dear than the aftermaths of the unhealed !

The stars may save you in your times of need
    only to discover their message you do not heed,
The sun may decide to shine with equipoise
    unaware of the shadows this inequity would breed
And you may cut your heart to pieces as you serve
    in the image of God this unworthy lot;
But can this be more reckless than the charity of the ungot ?

The desire to look tall in your own eyes
    may press upon your nerves in morality's disguise,
The unselfish servitude that is your goal in life
        by its reminders of debt may leave with you no choice,
And the promise of the unexpected as you freely wander
    may with passion make you renounce all you've got;
But what can be more driving than the lure of the unsought ?

The ideals you cared for but couldn't inculcate
    may peep out now and then from useless archives,
You may think you wont forget those tender moments
    when it was revealed on you how much you cared for her vibes,
And the lone memory of God during those nightmarish days
    may surface to welcome hardships whenever they have to be shared;
But what can be more spontaneous than the remembrance of the uncared ?

The brutal face of truth when dispassionately defrocked
    may leave its imprint on your tender soul
The glimpse of Love as you kissed her that night
    by its lingering moistness may try to cajole,
And the jolt of seeing yourself stripped of all covers
    may shake your uneven surfaces clean;
But what can be more lasting than the memories of the unseen ?

The cry of distress may tear through your heart
    deafening your ears to sighs of lower bass,
The paeans of Nature may coax your wandering soul
    giving you an illusion their silence will never pass,
But die they must
    with each new tune that is sung
For what can be truly haunting but the melody of the unsung !

You may think that with love you have tamed her deep
    and you know her texture as you know your hand,
You may feel that the hand that blesses your soul
    is as tender and soothing as in the beginning of trail,
But each time you reach out with memories of old
    your skin will feel cursed
For what can be familiar except the surface of the untouched.

You may see in toto the shape of your dreams
    and know in detail the rough edges with which its armed,
The poems you drew with the brush of words
    may make you recall the silhouette you originally formed,
But each time they feel the gentle push of thought
    they will be distanced as their finesse is deformed
For what can be immediate but the contours of the unformed .

The computers of Sci-fi may trouble your soul
    with powers of replication and intelligence galore,
The foolhardiness of Man in exploiting Nature
    may make you cower with heart that is sore,
And your sharp thoughts that dazzle even your vision
    may make you desperately seek an escaping slot,
But what can be more fearsome than the bravado of the unthought !

A word out of tune from the lips that you love
    may kill all your zeal and your will to shout,
A hymn of praise from the lips that you worship
    may luringly drown you as your feet leave the ground,
And the thunderous impulses as they do their 'tandav'
    may blatantly sever from you the title staid;
But what can be more violent than the blunt edge of the unsaid !

You may be cut down deep as the country was partitioned
    numbed and deafened by freedom struggle's uproar,
You may be moved to tears as on my body you watch
    the burns that were stamped by Mandal furore,
And you may feel my grief as you watch in dismay
    the lone scar of war run across my face disarmed;
But what could have been more pathetic than the curse of coming unharmed ?

The 'kenchuli' that had almost become my part
    shed after years of use might have left its scars,
The towers of success that I lovingly built
    as they fell might have crushed my lucky stars,
And the infant wish that couldn't withstand
    the test of time might prick like a thorn;
But could all this have been more poignant than the death of the unborn ?

Let's Smile A Little

 Let's smile a little, let's cry a little,
and if life so demands let's die a little.
Let's be frank a little, let's play games a little,
and if truth so demands let's lie a little.

Let's trust a little, let's be on our toes a little,
and if innocence so demands let's be sly a little.
Let's be proud a little, let's be servile a little,
and if virtue so demands let's be vile a little.

Let's hurt a little, let's heal a little,
and if friendship so demands let's say bye a little.
Let's tease a little, let's appease a little,
and if love so demands let's seduce a little.

Let's be mild a little, let's go wild a little,
and if maturity so demands let's be child a little.
Let's shatter illusions a little, let's aim for sky a little,
and if pragmatism so demands let's dare to fly a little.

Let's make others smile a little, let's make others cry a little,
and if conscience so demands let's earn guile a little.