Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Rerun

The Christmas tree gleamed in all its glory,
With gifts wrapped, labelled
And laid neatly underneath.
Greeting cards from loved ones arranged next to it, accordingly.
Everyone seemed busy preparing for the next day,
The dawn that freed the world from perpetual obscurity.


The house shone bright and glorious
With the spirit of yuletide.
Every face carried the warmth and charm
Of good tidings and cheer.
These were the few blissful moments
He cherished everyday.

Just after he woke up
And before he began the day.
He would rerun the night before Christmas
Right before his eyes like it was yesterday.
Well, this is the routine of a Soldier
Who guards our nation by the border all day.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

The Predator, Preyed Upon

On a pale, foggy, dew kissed dawn,
Emerged two jaded images out of the dark.
The young one carried a long shovel,
While the older clasped a blood stained prong.

With cold sweat running down their spines,
They stepped out of an old yard of abandoned graves.
The aged, impious beast was now dead and obscured.
It would return no more to quench its insatiable thirst.

Deep down, its mind, lurked lust without a moment of respite.
A pretentious companion of good conduct to the world.
Wedlock was a subterfuge, and infidelity was its way of life.
Before it could prey on its own blood, the predator itself became the kill.

Monday, December 15, 2008

Who?

Delirious flesh overpowering the frail inner voice,
A bite into the fruit of temptation, the Fallen’s irresistible bait.

Soul sold to guilt and remorse till date,
For ignoring the Lamb who laid His life to pay the debt.

Infidelity, gluttony, lust, murder and greed,
Sins committed by brutally killing the scruples.

The brutal slit of the golden goose’s belly
Only to discover the gaping void of misery.

Midas’ wish for the golden touch,
In lieu of his darling offspring’s loss.

Succumbed to temptation,
The flesh wins the race.

The spirit rides the dark horse,
Galloping backwards away from even the last place.

Who’s to be blamed? The accused victim
Or the lethal desire that rules the human race.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

To Santa from Puttu

With a red woolen stocking and a notepad, he ran
Hurriedly to his bedroom window.
Tore the first sheet along the perforated line,
Put it into the stocking, the list reads as below:

“A summer vacation whenever I feel like I need one,
A magical pencil to finish homework in no time.
A school bag that wouldn’t cling on my back
But walk, hand in hand, by my side.

Heavy downpour at the snap of my finger,
Paper boats that wouldn’t sink in rainwater;
Sun shining faintly like it does during winter
And paper planes that would fly forever.

A tricolor kite that would hide in the clouds
And a flashlight to make the stars look down with half-shut eyes.
Play football all day on an empty MG Road.
Sleep till noon, ignoring the alarm clock and sunrise.

A secret spot to hide in Ammamma’s house while playing I Spy;
Never to be caught when I play Lock & Key.
Lots of toys to play whenever I stay at home,
And the Christmas season should last all year long.”

It was Christmas Eve, and now it was half past ten.
He knew Santa would visit him tonight
And he had checked his list twice by then
Cos he knew, all through the year he was real nice.

Rushing into the blanket he hid himself,
Pretended as though he was fast asleep.
This time he wanted to see Santa, and at least an elf.
The clock struck twelve but he couldn’t resist the sleep.

This happened during a Christmas almost two decades back.
Today, when he thinks of it, he just laughs it off.
Yet he hopes someday, his one wish, Santa would grant.
Which is, the Christmas season would last all year long.

Monday, December 01, 2008

Long Distance Dedication

“Good Evening everybody,
welcome to the Afterdark hours.
It’s Friday again and the weekend is here”
Said the RJ with a husky voice.

Few dedications rolled out as he read his mails.
Then lines were opened to his dear listeners.
Some teenage kid spoke in the beginning followed by a young female.
The tunes requested were played on air, one after another.

Then came a sober voice,
Which looked like he’d dialed the wrong number.
He asked for a pizza place and that’s when the RJ realized.
He told the caller it was a live show, hence told him to request a number.

Half heartedly but a little baffled,
He hesitantly told “I don’t really know what to say”.
The RJ was very courteous he told him how it worked.
And asked if he had someone special and a song he’d want to play.

Without thinking twice he said he had nobody,
And he just returned from a Juvenile Prison;
Then he asked hesitantly
if it’s ok to make a long distance dedication.

The RJ said “Well Sir, this is a local radio station
but if it can reach them I have no objection”.
The listener replied “I hope she can hear it.
But either ways I’d like you to play it.”

Now the RJ told “Go ahead! Tell me your good name,
The one you’d like to dedicate it to and your dedication”
“To my dearest mom” he said, “this is from her Lil Sunbeam.
Please play ‘Mama, I’m coming home’. I hope she gets this station
in her part of heaven.