(This poem is dedicated to Felix, Our four-legged son who passed away at four, and took away such happiness as we had never experienced before)
Somebody recently said that Felix is my pet
That’s because she hadn’t met the beagle yet.
Or else, she surely would have clearly seen
How badly mistaken she had actually been.
A little study of the domestic order of the peck.
Would’ve revealed the collar around my neck.
Have you ever been held to ransom by your own?
Or chewed with frustration contention’s bone?
Losing entirely to floppy ears, the plaintive wail,
Mournful eyes, and a twitching reproachful tail?
There are battles you cannot fight, let alone win.
When you are seen committing a cardinal sin.
Tilting at windmills may be a quixotic folly so droll
But narrow-eyed duelling over a full feeding bowl?
Looking daggers at the obstinate turned-away nose
Hilarious the more, for all it does to move sulky paws.
Capitulate, Sir- in caress, smother and kisses galore
And feed by hand, a mouthful at a time, till no more.
If there is a price to be paid for pleasure and gladness
That follow the patter of four feet and a tail in harness.
Then let me full settle it, regardless of what it may cost
Lest all the soft warmth of love, that innocence be lost.
Let him ever carry the leash that binds me, be my thrall
Till my eyes close, and he too lies still as we finally fall.
Roy shifted his briefcase from one hand to the other as he approached his house in the less-peopled recesses of Sanctuary City. He had consciously bought an outskirts house because it was within walking distance from his office.
Besides, there was the added advantage of getting a large house at a low price. Yet another convenience was that he could walk back from his office for lunch at home. He had never liked taking a tiffin box to the office.
Two children fought hard on a street
Neither would give up, beat a retreat
I intervened, and gave one my hand
Other went down, soon bit the sand
Gave other hand to wipe those eyes
Doled false hopes, soothed with lies.
God saw it all, sent seraphs with wands
They became swords, cut off my hands
I am a migrant,
Wife n children
I live in my tent
They in heaven
I drink no water
Eat a little grain
When I’m thirsty
Sip from a drain
Vantage Rock lived up to its name all right! Gaunt rock, pervasive in panorama. Stark and sheer rock. Peaked crags that grabbed the first rays of the sun and wrapped them round their flinty heads. What hard and minatory faces, that plunged to barren earth thousands of feet below!
The sight-seers came in droves, hemming into a promontory that overhung the canyon. A planked platform spaced out over a wide overhang. A railing, high enough to ensure safety, ran along the edge.
Why is our earth getting so war-ridden?
Isn’t there any answer out there hidden?
But we keep on asking again and again
Like some parrot that has gone insane,
Yet knows what sought is outside cage.
So do we, if we could but turn the page.
Some think it lies in missiles and drones
In rockets and bombs, exploded phones
Somebody recently said that Felix is my pet
That’s because she hadn’t met the beagle yet.
Or else, she surely would have clearly seen
How badly mistaken she had actually been.
A little study of the domestic order of the peck.
Would’ve revealed the collar around my neck.
Have you ever been held to ransom by your own?
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