SWAMI SARANAM

Swami saranam

I know the path
Leading to the temple
Is full of thorns and stones
Alas,
Where I saw you
My temple minister
Beneath sanctum sanatorium
You were not praying,
But preaching as usual
And counting tins
MOON…merchant of belief
You are far away from god
What should I sing?
'Swami saranam'
Nothing else......

SHAME

SHAME



Shame…….
A moron
Is ruling…..

License
who has given
the license
to unleash violence
and eliminate
human beings
in 'nandigram'

law
“either hold
a party card
or dig courtyard
to make
Graveyard”
Shame
He is an
Indian

Afraid
It is not
far away
Hitler will
hoist red flag
at Red Fort

shame
being a
silent spectator
a moron ….
is ruling…….

you made me a communist

YOU MADE ME A

COMMUNIST



i had believed in socialism
and nonviolence
i had hoisted blue flag

in my dreams
i was always in
white starched

'khaddar' clad

one morning
a comrade came
he pointed his sword
in to my neck

blood profusely came
comrade swabbed
with white kerchief
"a new RED FLAG"

comrade ordered me
to hoist the new "red flag"

another comrade came
and taught me
how to abuse fourth pillar
and i learned the word
"BUSTARD"

a senior comrade
came and taught me
how to be a secular

now i am uttering the
word "VULTURE"
where i am seeing
priest and nuns

COMRADES,
earlier i was a
human being
now....

you made me
a COMMUNIST

JESUS IS NOT WITH YOU

Jesus is not with you


beware the disciples
JESUS is not with you

you are selling his
flesh and blood
in open market

the days are not
far away
you will list his name
in the BSE
and prelate will watch
the ups and downs
of SENSEX

it is shame that
you are in India
where GANDHI was born
and MOTHER THERESA
shelved her life

you are brutal than
JEWS,were given decent burial
you are sucking the blood
from carcass

what name i gave you
prelate or vampire

beware the disciples
JESUS is not with you
blood is rolling from
his tears
he is not with you....

beware the disciples
JESUS is not with you

SCRIBBLING THE FIRST LETTER

scribbling the first letter



remembering the day
scribbling the first letter


everything was ready
golden plate,filled with rice
lamp,was burning five cotton thread
entire room was filled with
pictures of Hindu god and goddess


i was ready on the lap of
my maternal uncle


he put my finger to the rice,
filled in the plate


there was calm,Devine atmosphere
suddenly that was broken
a loud piercing sound came
and i ran away


my mother and maternal uncle followed
to caught me
they failed.....


ultimately i was failed
still i am struggling to
scribble the first letter
whether should i succeed....?
i do not know.....!


remembering the day
scribbling the first letter

RIZ...MY BROTHER

Rizwanur,my brother...
i saw you
in my dreams..

you were next to 'Romeo'
and near to 'Che'

you have been the icon
of love and sacrifice
you shelved your life
for love

it is irony that you were
born in the land
of communism

they are now
promising to the world,
they would render
justice to you

i do not know
how they are....
announcing compensation..?
selling the
elementary emotion..!

love,become a commodity
to the state and the affluent

Rizwanur my brother
long live....
you are next to Romeo
and near to Che.....

butterfly

butterfly

butterfly
absorbing darkness
dispersing colours

though colours
are visible

mutable
moving here
and there
yet not steady

spilling Joy
and happiness
though fragile

caught fire
in her wings
though struggling
to fly high..........

ohh...MY MIND

ohh...my mind

a sea shore

waiting tsunami

now it is calm

some times i feel

like a sky

in the monsoon

drizzling now

and waiting

thunder shower

my daughter

NANDA says

its like sensex

in the BSE

"volatile"

filled with

bulls and bears

ohh.. my mind

simmering one

only one can

mend it

the person

who take

my last breath

and hold

my hand for

the last journey

when i immersed

into her

strong wings

which mould

me into a

pinch of hot ashes

ohh.. my mind

light

light


stars are
staring at a star

i know that
a candle light
is not a star

an odd one
so always not
in the group

I know
my light is
not sufficient
but its pure
till the end of
my span
it will glow

is it a sacrifice...
or a true love...

i know a star
doesn’t need
the glow of
a candle

DECISION

DECISION



every decision

is a starting point
to a bifurcation

one is the road
which often
travelled by many

and the other
is a narrow
pathway

we can't travel
through both
the road at a time

at the culmination point
we will think about the road
which is not taken

what a decision
which i have taken
in my life

just like a123
agreement between
INDIA &US........

nanda

nanda

nanda was a promise
a bond between
two souls
assimilation of
two discipline

nanda is a product
of thoughts
thoughts from
the nomadic period
or before

before i disclose
my love
she might ve been
born in this world

even both of us
may not see her
in our life time
she is here
in this world

i thought she is
my daughter
she called so
we both loved her
i know am still
doing that

i know nanda is
the light
which illuminates
my life

but.....in this
pragmatic world
if i pour my
tears it would
perish my
Compaq brand
new laptop

i do not
want to bury
you in my blog
you will be here
in this world
my daughter
nanda long live......

my gift

i was a child
to my father
today, my father
is seeing me
from heaven
he is cursing
his fellows

i can hear
the beats
its not regular

i am asking
to the almighty
why i was born
to this world
which is created
by the same
sculptor
who had
created the
wax mansion
for "pandavas"

so many
'duswasnas'
are here
to testify
the strength
of my clothes

number of
"smarthans "
are here to
conduct trials
and reaching
their verdict
that i am
the worst
creature
in this world
for polluting
the puritans

father take
my clothes
and give that
to your fellows
ask them to
present their
girl child

red revolution

RED REVOLUTION

I was playing cricket
at my court yard
in front of my sweet home

one man came
wearing red shirt
said revolution

taken one stump
and asked me to follow
to fencing the product

I was wondered
where is the product
of red revolution

oh....its my court yard
and sweet home
product of red revolution

I saw the product
it is dark
filled with anguish

gunman wearing
'Khaki' shirt came
and asked me to follow

i saw his eyes
pointing on my forehead
heard a piercing noise

an octogenarian wearing
white 'kurtha and pajama' came
wrapped me in red flag

three of them together
men in red ,khaki and white
started chanting slogans

oh son you are the
product of red revolution
sez zindabad sez zindabad

our teacher

our teacher........

our teacher

who teach us

whats love

and mercy

our light

which i ve n't seen

but i want to see

our sound

which i ve n't heard

but i want to listen

dreaming a better nation

working for

the future of millions

those don't ve any future

working for children

all the children are

like her son

and consider him

as one among them

working for children

want to hear the nation

free from child labour

and child molestation

want to hear the malady

were in India and

it has gone to history

she is our light

she is our sound

she is our soul

she is our leader.........