Tag: Summer

The Wager

‘Twas the summer season
In the great Indian plains.
The heat was unforgiving
In every town and village.

On one such lazy afternoon
In the village of Nenaanoo,
Little Jon and his pals, too
Wondered what to do.

It was too hot to play ball
Or Chupa chupi or Pithoo
Or Gilli Danda or Kho kho
Or Five Stones or Lattoo.

Soon, they started arguing
About who was more clever.
And in the heat of the moment,
The lads agreed to a wager.

The target was a mango tree
Owned by the uppity Mr. Wick.
It was guarded by ol’ Kenie
Who carried a wooden stick.

The tree was heavily laden
With mangoes ripe and golden
Whoever picked five of them
Would be the cleverest one.

And so they crept to the tree.
In silence, the race began.
They heard ol’ Kenie snoring
And soon climbed up a branch.

But ol’ Kenie wasn’t asleep,
He woke up with a loud snort.
And he started chasing them,
So the plan they had to abort.

Down the tree, they all leapt
And scrambled to run away.
But they all stumbled and fell,
As they got in each other’s way.

And so it was as the Sun set,
They returned black and blue.
For ol’ Kenie had caught them
And given them a thrashing, too.

That’s how the story ended
Of Little Jon and his friends.
They never laid a wager again
In the heat of the moment.

The Mango Tree

The great Indian summer –
Dry, dusty and sweltering
With no respite or succor
As the Sun keeps blazing.

Amidst this, a mango tree
Spreads its leafy branches
Blocking out the cruel heat
Under its green expanses.

Many travelers on their ways
Stop to rest in its cool shade.
Birds chirp in their little nests.
Little squirrels gambol away.

And along with these mortals,
Also seeking shade…is a temple.

The Spring-Summer Collection

The cool breeze at dawn
Gently awakens the leaves on the trees.
The Sun rising on the horizon
Greets everything with rosy kisses.

The birds sing delightful songs
With chirps, whistles, coos, trilling and drumming.
They fly in the blue skies, or, in the trees, throng
As they serenade and welcome the morning.

The flowers bloom in a riot of colors
Dotting the green meadows and fields.
The butterflies, from cocoons, emerge
Showing off their newly painted wings.

Even the creepy crawly ones
Have their moments in the Sun.
With rustles, hums, crackles, zipping and rattling,
They all partake in the artistic presentation.

The old hills stand tall in the distance
Splashed in shades of brown and green.
Listen hard, and you may hear in their silence
Tales from last night, and their dreams.

Yes, this is indeed the grandest show.
And everyone has an invitation.
A ticket for a seat in the front row
For Nature’s Spring-Summer Collection.

Just Bloom

I know I need to send that report
With data inferred through pivots.
And the PowerPoint presentation
Needs an editing of the animations.

I know I need to reply to that email.
It’s sent in red with high importance.
And a review discussion is pending
That needs a thorough preparation.

I know I need to make my bed.
The sheets lie loose and crumpled.
And the room has to be cleaned,
Dusted and wiped till there’s a sheen.

I know I need to hang the laundry
On the line with clips so they stay.
The dishes in the sink need a wash
With soap, scrubber and a brush.

I know there’re chores to be done.
Tasks that are high priority ones.
But, today, these aren’t on my to-do’s.
For, like flowers, all I’m going to do is… bloom.