To My Dear Colleague Neena on Her Farewell

"Good byes are not forever"

But friends are forever

You are the fire that lit the torch inside me.

And harnessed my thoughts

As the poet says,

You are my friend, philosopher, guide

My nurturer and advisor

You are the chosen one,

Who like the scholar (reference to 'Scholar Gyspsy')

Is on your way out in search of knowledge,

The unquenched thirst can never stop you.

And who am I to do the sin by stopping you either?

But all that I can pen down is this...

A small gift of words that will be with you forever

And my prayers and well wishes

Together we can cherish those sweet memories

Memories are forever.

Though "good byes are not forever".

STEPPING OUT

She came to unlock those doors,

To surmount those barriers and step out successfully,

The paths are winding, full of gutters and potholes

Times came when she slipped and stumbled,

Impeccable she is,

Clutching every straw.

Focused and poised,

She gets along easily.

Now stepping out to lit the torch,

to enlighten folks, to glorify the art of pedagogy.

Situations and people do change,

Times too change.

Here we wait to hear you say ‘am fine

and the world around me is beautiful!’

FLYING HIGH

Here is the book worm,
That crawled and came to a desert,
It felt thirsty, throat was dry.
Exhausted, it crept over the dry patches of earth
And drenched itself in a spring
Time provided it with wings.
Like a phoenix rising out of ashes,
It embarked to achieve the mission,
To soar high and touch the horizons
To research and learn,
And share the fruits of its laurels
‘Hail to thee, blithe spirit’
Fly high and perch peacefully
On the branch of the Wisdom tree.

MUSIC

She comes and touches the pain struck heart

with her soft hands.

She delves deep into my veins

And takes me to the abode of solace.

She relieves me from the life; tedious and monotonous.

and adds colours to my days.

She is my solitary mate

The panacea for my illness.

She is the eternal spark of my thoughts,

a winsome mother.

She can heal the broken hearts

and wipe tears that roll down.

She sweeps away the hatred

that destroys innocence.

She grabs everyone to her

and arrests all in the prison of love...

Oh, 'fair' lady, blow your air into us,

and give life to the lives under peril.

WHITHER LIFE?

Past:
Gone are those days,
When life was a goblet of nectar,
Those yards that bore stampings of small feet,
When heaps of sand made castles,
When vain efforts were made to touch the sky,
The world was so small then...
Now:
The monotonous life,
Wicked and crooked brains,
Masked faces, tortured spirits.
Flying high never gives me
the joy of those vain efforts.
The world is large, beyond the horizons...
With a weird smile on lips,
Tongue says, "It's all in the game."
Agony:
Life goes on and on...
Lost in a concrete jungle,
Futile to utter though,
The smile persists,
Tongue says, "History never repeats."

"WE SHALL OVERCOME...."

There goes the song,
" We shall overcome...."
Oh youth! the asset of this vast nation,
the hope of humanity,
Come, let's blow the whistle now.
Free yourself from tension, from daily worries,
from the egos that haunt you.
Come together and sing.
Here goes the song,
"We shall overcome...."
Let's sweat today for a bright tomorrow,
to bring cheer to everyone's face,
add bliss to all the lives.
Forget the idle days,
the disasters that shook our dreams.
Come, let's blow the whistle now.
Here goes the song,
"We shall overcome...."

AN APPRECIATION FOR MATTHEW ARNOLD'S POEM SCHOLAR GYPSY

Scholar(Scholar Gypsy) who roamed all over Cambridge- had one goal, one spirit.
He saw the green hills, hamlets, orchards and farm house.
Gone are those lovely sights.
Still the horizon beckons him,
saying it is not the edge.
Beyond him lies world unseen.
Thirst of knowledge unquenched,
he wanders.
Like a toddler crying for milk,
his heart wails for more and more(knowledge).
There lies the Cambrigde, the Victorian columns, dooms and archways.
Scholar sees fresh faces full of hope.
The makers of future.
Yet his search goes on..
Still he waits for the spark from heaven to fall upon him.

'MAA NISHADA'

On the branch of a papal,
Perches down two birds,
Time for the rapturous delight.
Like two shining stars on a moonlit sky.
Like a couple huddled around a fire place.
Vernal flora showers on them.
……………………………
Chiruppings turn to a yell.
Leaves and flowers shed in fear.
An arrow smeared with blood.
Stop! Stop the violence.
No fire, no smoke, no more bullets.
Where are the beautiful smiles that adorned our hearts?
Where are the sweet words that consoled us?
Tears in eyes and fear in mind.
Come on friends, let us rewrite the fate.
Stop the ‘hunters’.
Let the lamp of piece glow forever.