Rain , Rain , Go Away........

      Hey Rain!  A blessing though you are,
     You  bring  not   the same cheer always,
       Why behave rather  madly  at times,

       Like an enemy practising vengeance?

      True, you arrive with soothing relief,
      When the earth is all  parched up,
       Its creatures  desperate and famished,
      Praying for mercy all day and night.

     Then you descend down from the sky,
     Like  a shower of  sweet nectar,  
     Sprinkled over the dying  landscape,
      Reviving its life with timely succour.

      But this bonhomie does not  last long,
       When you shed off your sweet appearance,
      Turning  hostile and  deadly violent,
      With all the fury of a callous marauder.
 
         And  start unleashing   havoc all around,
         Right from the hills to the deep valleys,
         Down the  planes damaging rich crops,
         Ravaging animals and human habitats.

         With thunder, cloudbursts, and torrents,

        Submerging villages, fields,  hamlets,
         Blocking hill roads with frequent landslides,
       Collapsing bridges with vehicles on them.

          Trees, men, animals being inundated,
           Carried away by monstrous waters,
          Vehicles on roads being swept away,
          Instead of reaching their destined places.

          All this arrogant show of power,,
          Is sorely condemned and despised,
          Stop this cruel  game of  death, 
          Destroying life and peace around.

        Enough of  all the  frightening  actions,
        Now put an end to this horrid  nightmare,
        And let  normalcy resume  its place,
        To repair and rebuild the huge damage.

        Else who will ever welcome you here,
        In this ravaged and lifeless land?

       who will need  your blessings even,
        If no one is left alive to re-create?                

      

The Saintly Scientist

              




                                                                

              Gifting his  'Wings of Fire ',
              To the young generation 
              The angel has taken flight ,
              To regions unknown.

            Standing in front of admiring youths,
           Enriching  them with deep knowledge,

           Advising them to aim always high,
           And toil tirelessly to reach their goals.
 .
           In rapt attention, they listened to him,
           As he was to them a living legend, 
           The  object of  utmost honour, 
           The epitome of accomplishments.

           And all so sudden that shocking collapse,
            Caused  as if with a bolt from the blue, 
            Alas ! that your end  did come  so sudden
             Leaving us poorer for the loss of a gem.

            Wonder if you're summoned  up there,
            To plan  urgently a divine project,  
          Or maybe you needed some leisure moments
            To set new notes on your favourite Veena!

             Genius and simplicity personified,  
             Words fail to measure your worth,
            Never did  you take a day off, they say, 
          As devotion to work was your prime concern.  

          A star among the scientists, patriot and saints, 
           Role model of the youth, People's President,, 
           Decked with the nation's  highest award,,   
            The spectrum of life was just perfect!

            Now Adieu ! as you make exit from here,
            To join the ranks of  the immortals there,
             We shall  look for a new star tonight,
            Added to the galaxy of the great, up there.

           For sure, you will get your  pride of place,  
           To  be with the immortals in peace,  
           And we on the earth shall find you alive,
           In the great legacy, you have left behind.
       
         
          
           






              
             

A POEM FROM GITANJALI

             I  thought  that my voyage had come to its end at the last limit of my power -that the path before me was closed , that provisions were exhausted and the time had come to take shelter in a silent obscurity .

But I find that thy will knows no end in me  , and when old memories die out on the tongue , new melodies break forth from the heart  ;and where the old tracks are lost , new country is revealed with its wonders .

Gitanjali -- xxxvii

A favourite poem from Gitanjali ----

   

      In the night  of weariness let me give myself  up  to sleep without struggle

       resting my trust upon thee.

       Let me not force my flagging spirit into a poor preparation for thy worship .

        It is thou who draw the veil of night upon the tired eyes of the day  to renew its sight 

        in a fresher gladness of awakening 

 .

                  RabindranathTagore ------    Gitanjali-- xxv

    

Being a Mother

      Motherhood --

      A blessing or a challenge?

     Or both of them finely rolled, 

     Into a status unique in itself?

    A  privilege  granted by God,

    To all females on the earth, 

    Making  them akin  to Nature,

    The matriarch of all creatures.

      She who sows the seeds of life, 

      All over  the lands and oceans,  

      Rendering  this planet  evergreen,   

      Pulsating with life and meaning.

        And Oh! This motherhood bliss!

        An emotion bordering on ecstasy, 

        Felt by all with maternal instincts,

        Be they humans, animals or birds.

        But is this joy an end  in  itself,

        Or a tough challenge in disguise?

        The beginning of  a life long strife, 

        To last for the whole of life?

          That starts  with raising the tender infants,

          Fast  as they grow into playful children, 

          Followed by wayward adolescents,                     

          Till they settle as seasoned adults. 

          Time  flies without your noticing it, 

          When they  find their wings  strong,

          And are anxious to soar even higher,

          In distant skies of their own choice.

           Watching them fly confident and free,

           My heart does swell with a queer emotion 

           What shall I call it? A humble pride,

            Or just a deep sense of satisfaction?

            So what if the nest appears empty,  

            It still  is  full of  fond memories, 

            And gifts of love and care pour in,

            Whenever I feel a need for them.

            Reason  enough to pamper myself,

            That  I haven't failed in  meeting well,

          The Sweet- sour challenges of motherhood, 

             As the essence of life forever!