THEY LOVE PIGEONS

They keep us in a golden cage shining bright

A gold chain even adorns our tender pink feet

They feed us with the choicest sweet fruits

And they always say that they love pigeons.

On festival days, they release hundreds of us

Clap and cheer, as we flutter our wings and fly

The huge blue sky we enjoy not for much time

As they catch us back, surely say they love pigeons

Just at any trigger, the leaders just to suit their ego

Start a war of destruction, mindless annihilation

Millions lose their loved ones, and children orphaned

Countries are victimized, but they say they love pigeons.

After all, these millions were killed and the towns destroyed

Leaders stand on the very mount of the burial grave

Shaking hands and signing the treaty with broad smiles

Release many pigeons, say we love peace and pigeons.

I DIG MY GRAVE

I started, yes happily, to do my work

To dig with my own hands, lovely grave for me

If people can build a house to live for them

Can’t I create and dig a grave for me to sleep?

I will dig it myself sure, with my own hands,

As I don’t want, some worker’s sweat there!

Of course, this will be the most beautiful one

Better than any Tomb ever built in Egypt

I will paint it with lovely blue colour all over

And make lots of shelves one side to store

To store hundreds of books, I love to read on

In languages English, Hindi and Tamil known

I will keep only some Champa flowers yellow

Which is as wild and self-made just like me

I won’t keep any cell phones, there definitely

Of course no one will call a dead, I am sure

But my loving PC which lived with me for years

Will I surely carry, my only dearest friend here

Oh! I heard you! I won’t be buried, you say

So what? It is fine! What is wrong in dreaming?

A beautiful grave, just for me which may not exist?

THE BROKEN DOLL

She , her hair all ruffled, unkept and  dirty

Her dress was all torn and hung pathetically

Still the beggar girl was happy with her own

One legged dirty broken doll, she played on

The rich he, stopped his car on seeing her

His heart filled in pity, made him purchase

Gave her this sparkling doll he bought

Dressed in rich dresses, too lovely to play

She looked at the doll, but shook her head

Refusing she said, I am used to broken doll

Taking your doll may create greed, in me for more

It will never happen, so please don’t pity me

Said she, let me play with my own broken doll

If that It is what destiny had decided to give, wise she

We, too, get greedy sometime, some showers love suddenly

As the passing love vanish, we despair in expectation

TRAPPED

சிக்கியது

ஒரு இடிந்த பழய வீடு

உள்ளே சிக்கிய ஒரு பறவை

தப்பமுடியாமல் மூடிய ஜன்னல்கள்

முதிய மாது மொனமாகப் பார்த்தாள்

மெதுவாகக சிரித்தாள்

இருவருக்கும் உள்ள

ஒற்றுமையை நினைத்து

VIRTUAL

He was getting more and more choked

Raining praises and congratulations

Hundreds of certificates pronouncing

His originality, creativity, unique vision

Garlands, cups and souvenirs poured

Making the cupboards overflow,

Glassy full-blown banners, photographs

Oh God! he laughed so loud that

His eyes opened wide from his dream

Yes, many still live in this virtual world, of praise

A world which never exists or will support any

REPLANT THEM

We hear this news every day. Need to cut the trees for development and then the protest and legal tussle for the same. It is a well-known fact that trees are absolutely needed to prevent global warming and drought, and at the same time for development, it becomes a must to remove trees.

But the surprising fact is, why do the Government or the rebelling nature lovers, think of the right solution, that the trees can be replanted and need not be axed? We have to be dug out the entire tree with its roots from the deep, without destroying its root system. The dug-out tree can be transported to a convenient place, where it can be replanted. With some good effort and kind nurturing in the initial stage, every tree survives. Why no one is trying to find a positive solution is the most surprising question now?

CIRCLE AND LINE

A circle is a comfort zone where few lives

As Round and round you go, but no falling

You won’t reach heights, no problem

You will never fall either, you are safe

There is always a crowd around you

To pamper and gloat to create a virtual world

As they all survive in your light, your fame

You, not worried the least, about your progress,

Stay in the circle going, round and round

But remain always happy and satisfied.

She on the other hand, is a line in the graph,

Maybe she is thin, no fans and lonely, but long

Aims only at struggle, moving to rise higher

Many time falls, and becomes flat on the ground

The world just waits to laugh and tease at her fall

She not worried , about the laughter, failures

Keeps working hard to move, and move up

Her principle is, moving, constant change, is life, progress

The line and circle, poles apart in their directions

Neither can they co-exist, nor change their views

Pain and rising for one, other a stagnant and comfort