Friday, 8 January 2016

The Unusual Homecoming


                                           THE UNUSUAL HOMECOMING

                                    Home he did come that ill-fated day
                                     But  none had thought the way he did
                                     All wrapped up in the solemn tricolor
                                        Sure symbol of ultimate honour

                                    Truly it was the most befitting reward
                                     For a braveheart so  bold  andaring
                                     Who put himself at stake without fear
                                    To ensure that the nation doesn't suffer
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         Devotion to duty was his prime concern
                                     Fighting till the end to foil the attack
                                     Paying  his flesh  and blood as the cost
                                     He set an example of supreme sacrifice
                                     The strike having been foiled for now
                                     The guns are silent  for a while
                                      But the sounds of anguish and loss resound
                                      Inside and around the home he lived

                                      Which had  hoped he would, some day
                                      Come back alive, secure and gay.
                                      But instead came the bolt from the bluel
                                      And brought him home this gloomy way!

                                       Heaps of flowers and wreaths offered
                                       Messages of sorrow and condolence
                                       Are but poor solace to the   kins
                                       Broken to the core by the deadly blow.

.                                      Words and gestures of sympathy
                                        Can hardly lessen the grief so profound                                                                    And what can ever compensate  the loss  
                                        So intense, immense and beyond repair?

                                        The only healing thought is that
                                         He laid down his life  for the country's sake
                                         And that will  keep his name alive,
                                         In our minds and hearts forever.

Written as a tribute to the martyrs of Pathankot terror attack.

Saturday, 2 January 2016

Musings over a Passing Day

            It's the new year eve again
            And I am happy
            But a little pensive too.
               Silently I hear the clock tick
              And watch the tiny moments
              slip from my hands
               Like grains of sand
                In the hourglass.

               Time ---the mightiest of the mighty
               The subject of  eternal wonder
                wrapped in folds of mystery
                 Defying all human wisdom
                 At defining its peculiar history

                    I, too, often wonder
                    As to how its unseen hands
                     manage this vast universe
                     Its myriad life forms
                     And even insensate things

                     Like a traveller ever on move
                     It goes on forging ahead
                     Turning days into months and years-
                     Centuries and millennia.

                      On what fateful day of yore
                      Did it set out on this unique voyage
                      What undiscovered  continent
                      Is it headed forever to ?

                      And here we are trying
                      To bound its eternal run
                      Into the frames called tenses
                       Past, Present and Future.

                        But where are the lines of  divide
                        or do they at all exist?
                        My mind is dwelling again
                        on this perpetual riddle -

                               About the  nature  of  Time
                               That always seems  beyond
                               The knowledge of human races
                                Through all the ages  gone by

                                As to how its magic wheel
                                carries us always forward
                                Through the cycle of  past and present
                                Onto the ever unknown  future  !