To My Mother

It’s impossible to celebrate
your love in a single day.
It’s impossible to show gratitude
for this life with one thank you.
It’s impossible to speak
about all you’ve done for me.
It’s impossible to compare
your sacrifices with anything else.
And if the word impossible is
found only in a fool’s dictionary,
then I admit that I’m that fool,
for it’s impossible to describe you.
And in the end, this is all I say –
That I will celebrate you every day.

My Mother, My Angel

In the small sunny balcony
that faces the western hills,
on one breezy, summer day
Mom kept some pots of clay.

In all those, she sowed seeds –
Carrom, mustard and chillies.
Then there were some more
with spinach and tomatoes.

A special pot held the Tulsi.
In two, red-rose bushes grew.
And in a few, with large leaves
grew the ornamental varieties.

That’s a lovely garden in a flat!
What more could one say to that?
But there are things more beautiful
that Mom cultivated in my soul.

The seeds of “Happiness” and “Hope”
have grown like great green oaks.
The “Never Give Up,” with strong roots
has spread deep into my attitude.

A special rambler called “Love”
yeilds buds redder than blood
on the spiraling stalk of “Prayer”
that shoots right up to the heavens.

While bunches of “Music” and “Wit”
speckle the hedge of “Do Your Best.”
As the keeper of this sacred garden,
she waters and prunes every day.

Wouldn’t it be correct to state, then
that she’s the Gateway between
the Mortal me and the Divine?
My Mother – my angel in disguise.

How can You Find Fault with Me?

How can you find fault with me?
You say that I keep changing my mind.
Have you ever seen the waves in the sea?

How can you find fault with me?
You say that I talk more than a lot.
Have you ever heard a river rolling over rocks?

How can you find fault with me?
You say that I cry over little things.
Have you ever seen the rain falling from the heavens?

How can you find fault with me?
You say that I seek too much attention.
Have you ever seen the sun rising over the horizon?

How can you find fault with me?
You say that I want all of your love.
Have you ever seen the earth after a thunderstorm?

How can you find fault with me?
Just open your heart and you will see
the perfection in an “imperfect” me.

Marriage – A Knotty Affair

Some pertinent observations come to my mind
when mulling over affairs of the marriage kind.
I’m sure you too will give these some thought
to understand the implications of tying the knot.

So, at the altar, you and your would-be-better-half
exchange vows that you’ll keep for your entire life,
and it’ll be some years before you begin to realize
that you should’ve read deeper between the lines.

The first vow – be together come what may –
seems like fun and very easy you would say
till the moment you start losing your space
and can’t hang out anymore with your friends.

The second vow – to love each other for eternity-
seems wonderful and gives a warm, fuzzy feeling
till you forget to remember those very dates
of the days you both met, got engaged and wed.

The third vow – to give your best version to the other
seems like something you can do without any bother
till you see there are so many times when
the best version of you just goes into hiding.

The fourth vow – to love each other’s family like your own –
seems like a thing you can already consider as done
till you’re caught in the crossfire of their differences
and can’t decide whose side you should be taking.

And yet you want to hang on to that last bit of thread
in the name of loving and caring – well I’ll be damned!
So I pray that luck be on your side as you dare
to enter the world of this very knotty affair.

To My Daughter

Within me you grow
blooming like a rose.
I can see you smile,
twinkles in your eyes.

I can feel you move
as you turn in my womb.
And as I think of you,
I know you hear me too.

You are mine.
My unborn child.
My fairy girl –
A precious pearl.

My light, my faith
I’ll patiently wait,
for like no other
you are my daughter.

To My Teachers

All roads lead to Rome.
They taught me how to find my way.
A picture is worth a thousand words.
They taught me how to paint it.

All good things come to an end.
They taught me how to start them.
God helps those who help themselves.
They taught me how to make plans.

The grass is greener on the other side.
They taught me how to be satisfied.
In this world, no man is an island.
They taught me how to stay united.

There’s no better time like now.
They taught me how to move on.
Two heads are better than one.
They taught me to work in a team.

When the going is tough, the tough get going.
They taught me to never give up.
People in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.
They taught me to not be a hypocrite.

I know I can now read a million books.
Or, travel to cities around the world.
But I will always thank my teachers who
changed me from a grain of sand into a pearl.

The Reunion – Class of ’64

Like beads on a string,
we were together
through thick and thin.

Riding bikes, sharing things,
pulling braids, running,
playing, laughing, crying.

We couldn’t forget those days
and united in memories,
we return from our parted ways.

To spend this time catching up,
telling our life stories,
comparing grays, remembering stuff.

Like birds of a feather flying
into the sunset with wings
and hearts beating – in unison.

My Friend, My Rainbow

‘Twas in the evening yesterday
That I saw a rainbow on my way.
It waved to me with colors bright,
and a smile that lit up the sky.

Violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow,
orange and red all shouted “Hello!”
It spoke to me of tales of yore
I knew I’d found my pot of gold.

As I laughed and skipped that day,
I followed it to a wonderful place
of happiness and magical fun
in the light of the rosy setting sun.

It walked me home till the gate.
I turned once more to see it wave.
Truth it was, and I knew it too
that the rainbow I had met was – you.

My Class Teacher

I have a class teacher
who is very, very nice.
I like all her lectures
and listen to her advice.

She teaches math n morals.
I owe her all my laurels.
She helps all her pupils –
The aces n those who struggle.

She’s always so lively.
Her name is Miss Molly.
Disciplined and so caring,
She’s the best, certainly!