Tuesday, October 13, 2015

The Praying Mantis



Hey! You praying mantis,
what design do you conceal
in your greeting hands?
Why such humility?
I know your tricks.
Like a politician with politricks
you stand offering Namaste
to a tiny poor instinct
which , dumbstruck , forgets to move
and you gobble it up.
Even if your Namaste didn't work
you pounce upon it coercively.
You know how to get at a prey.

Camouflaged perfectly with new leaf green
from head to the end of tail,
you a leftward slanting handwritten small 'g',
the letter for green that harbours you
with all your tricks.

You Praying Mantis
like a wily seductive
always with some crafty purposes
hidden in praying hands
and simulating an innocent.

But Oh! you are a creature too,
like all others.

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                                                     - 24 August, 1999



A Few Poems To A Friend


To A Friend


Friend.
go on talking and talking to me
of the love you win
from haves and haves-not
clever and idiots.
Talk of the beauty you see
in whatever grotesque and clumsy.
Talk of the faith you draw
out of the faithless wrecks
You who are at rest
while surrounded by restlessness
and restless while placed in restfulness.
Talk of the hearts you have conquered
in the war that goes with no end.
Talk of the joy you feel
in playing with rustic children
and the agony of parting with them.

Go on talking and talking
while I listen enraptured.
But what is it?
It's me who's talking,
talking trash
without letting you utter a word !

Untitled



You should not mind, my friend,
if I wanted to leave you
and walk alone
with my own rhythm
and my own music of footfall.

Do not expect me
to walk with you side by side
hand in hand.
No, never,
while traversing a distance.

I never count paces
or steps I walk up and down
I don't know the number-games.

Do not call me crazy, my friend.
Suddenly I wanted to part with
you. Don't expect that I'll join you
in some midway.

But...we will surely merge to be one
the moment we cross the horizon of time.

Until then...
I just want to be true to my journey.

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                                                   11 March, 1999.

Monday, October 12, 2015

A Friend's Arrival



With a heartful of warmth
and golden smile of Autumn
steps a friend into my hut.

And a flash of something long forgotten!

Throwing off abruptly
the blanket of gloom
my hut leaps into a new spirit
and is filled with
resounding ripples of universe
and then trickles poetry
drop
by
drop.

[Written on 15 Nov. 1997, while in Sadar Hospital, Darjeeling.]