Teachers

The dust of chalk
Is unlike any other dust.
It's made of commitment,
And a huge dose of care.

It is the result of
The efforts taken
To prepare notes and
Make students smart.

Teachers differ,
But we only prefer
Those who don't scold us
Those who ain't strict.

Sincere teachers get angry,
For our misdeeds and
For our mischiefs.
Ain't they human too?

I love my teachers,
They wrote with chalks.
Unfortunately, today's teachers
Use markers a lot.

Oh! God..

I said to God,


"I cry and cry
Till my eyes become dry.
I laugh and laugh
Till I get into a fit of cough.
I'm always in the extremes,
That's how I am.

An emotional scene,
Never fails to bring a tear.
The thought of my future
Does invoke my fear.
I'm always in the extremes.
That's how I am.

A beautiful girl
Makes my heart beat fast.
Yet the feeling is shortlived,
It does not really last.
I'm always in the extremes.
That's how I am.

When I love somebody
It's of the highest order.
When I hate somebody
I don't even near their border.
I'm always in the extremes.
That's how I am.

This absence of equilibrium,
Makes me falter a lot,
Revealing to my self,
The bad qualities I've got.

I know this isn't good.
I badly need to change.
This is the umpteenth time I'm saying,
"I badly need to change." "


God replied,


":P"

Get Well Soon, Buddy Boy

Get well soon, buddy boy.
Great movies are waiting for you!
Your pencil misses you a lot.
Your palette is mixing colours with its tears.

Get well soon, buddy boy.
Your computer misses your touch,
As it loves you so much
Like the pug in the ad for Hutch.

Get well soon, buddy boy.
Your earphones miss you a lot.
They're waiting to sing to you
And happily they'll do so when you return.

Get well soon, buddy boy.
Your meals plate misses you a lot.
It has learned to love from your mom,
With the help of the delicious dosas she makes.

To AVMR With Love

The stars my teacher gave me
For the high marks I scored,
The names my friends gave me
For my antics,
The numerous quarrels with my classmates,
The numerous doodles in my class notes.
How will I ever forget?
How can I even forget?

The sandwiches we made on Saturdays,
The Bhajans we sang on Thursdays,
The Quran verse we recited on Fridays,
The good old speeches we gave on birthdays.
How will I ever forget?
How can I even forget?

The computer games we played in the mornings,
The 'violent' games we played in the breaks,
The instruments we played in functions,
The pranks we played on friends.
How will I ever forget?
How can I even forget?

The 'poetry' WE sang on the stage,
The crushes we harboured in that age,
The words we uttered in a rage,
The rabbits that were kept in a cage.
How will I ever forget?
How can I even forget?

The camps we Scouts and Guides attended,
The songs 'the three of us' invented,
The first rank for which we contented, and
The various things on which we commented.
How will I ever forget?
How can I even forget?

The medals I never won,
The books I always won,
The unmatchable, great fun,
The crazy things we all had done.
How will I ever forget?
How can I even forget?

I'm what I'm because of our school,
Where freedom was always the primary rule.
Our teachers' motivation that served as a fuel,
Now make my tears form a pool.
I miss those days.
They bring a smile to my face,
We may go in our own ways,
Still we're the beautiful flowers of a beautiful vase.

Hare Krishna!

Oh Krishna! Thy colour I see in the sky.
Thy music I hear in the wind.
Thy beauty I behold in a child's smile and
Thy presence I feel everywhere.
Thy bovine buddies are now eating paper.
Their search for grass proving to be futile.
Their bones protrude through their hide.
Their 'moo's travel in the air unheard and uncared.
I've never seen You,
But many a time I've been You.
I celebrate life every moment,
Still many things make me sad.
Mother Earth is being disrobed Krishna!
She's experiencing torture.
Selfish men are hurting her.
She can tolerate it no more.

The people are dancing to Adharma's tune Krishna.
Their brethren they hurt.
Life has become hard Krishna,
Yet I know these are all illusions.
Avatar! Krishna, Avatar!
Are you still asleep?
Isn't it time for you to arrive,
In a white steed with a sharp sword?
Krishna, men have ruined Mother Nature,
Putting in peril a beautiful future.
Love and beauty are subtle Krishna;
Man just doesn't feel it these days.
Oh Krishna! Teach us an unforgettable lesson;
Etch it in our hearts.
Don't worry if many don't get it.
I'll spread it through Facebook!

Childhood and the Cruelty of Life

Poopy pants, dirty hands
Wandering in the beach sands.
An uncanny gait,
To support your weight.
Your mind dwells in wonderlands.

Your voice is sweet, your hair is neat.
So cute are your little feet.
Your eyes are blue
And lovely too.
So don't wander in a crowded street.

I wish you're like this always,
As bright as the sun's rays,
But life is hard,
Says this young bard.
It has to show you all ways.

Following Your Footsteps

Many a poet has roamed this earth,
Amazing people with his great skill.
Hard was the path you trod since birth,
As you had possessed an iron will.

Kindness unmatched dwelt in your heart,
Aesthetic sense you had a lot.
Valuable in revolution was your part, and
In unending sorrow you believed not.

Barren are the hearts of men,
Hungry only for money and fame.
All the words that flowed from your pen
Reached no one's ears, Oh! What a shame!

Always strove to ward off ignorance,
Tirelessly worked for human welfare.
Hurt deeply by your permanent absence,
I feel that God is just not fair.

Yet to find a noble soul
As compassionate as you.
Awe-inspiring was your phenomenal role.
Recognized then only by a few.