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!

                

                

                 

On Father's Day ----- A Monologue

      Father! Can you hear me?
       I yearn to speak   to you,
       If only you could answer,
       And tell me that you do.

      How blessed would I feel,
       Again  your voice to hear,
      Would rush to you as a child,
      Lost in a crowded fair.

     Though wishful dreaming it be,
    To seek your presence around,
     Having left this world for once,
     Has anyone ever returned?

      Yet, some memories  die hard,
      Dwelling so deep in the heart,
      Keep surfacing  now and then, 

      Like pictures on a movie screen.

     And what can ever silence,
     The words of  precious wisdom,
     You pronounced time to time,
     Whenever I sought your advice.
 

      Here, I am to tell you again,
     That I always  follow the path,
     You showed me  early in life,
     Believing I will never deviate.

      I  hardly know   other ways,
      To honour your loving memories,
       But  keep  your teachings in mind,
       Do what you always cherished.

      Could you hear me, dear  Father?
       Please speak, and even if you don't,
       I will presume that sure you  did,
       And blessed me in sweet silence!
   

Endlessly Enchanting ---- A Waterfall in the valley

      Behold the scenic grandeur,
      The amazing  waterfall creates,
      As if  rushing down from clouds,
      Like a stream of milky nectar.

      Emerging from secret springs,
      Hidden in the heart of hills,
      It brings abundant succour,
      To the valley all through the year.

        So flowers here bloom  unbidden,
       In countless  shapes and colours,
       Turning the valley into a rainbow,  
       Landed on the earth from heaven.

        Since  the eyes will refuse to move,
        Away from this rapturous  scene,
        Save it  in the book of  memory,
         To be enjoyed again and again.
 .

Valley of Flowers ------- A snapshot

 Right in the lap of the Himalayas,       
With snow-capped peaks  behind,
Blooms this alluring garden,  
As a unique creation of nature
           
The mystique of flowery abundance,
 Wraps the landscape in a charm,
With colours fascinating and bright,
And fragrance as a healing balm.

Nurtured amply by milky waters,
Emanating  from  mountain springs,
The flowers bloom unbidden,
Creating this magical ambience.

 Who is the  kind caretaker,

Of this  Eden on the earth,
Has anyone ever  seen him
Engaged in his sweet labour?      

Well, he may not be visible,
But one can feel   his presence,
Imprinted  inch by inch,
On this wondrous expanse.

Valley of Flowers ------ Nature's own favoured garden

From behind the dark blue hills,
 A king in golden armour,
Moves  majestically upward,       
Shooting beams of dazzling light,
Down to the farthest corner.

The rays come descending,
Gracefully on the flowery carpet,
Cautious enough not to trample --
 Even on the humblest of flowers.

The sky all  bright and  painted,
With gold and silver colours,
Emanates  heavenly grandeur,
Complementing the earth's splendour.

.

 In the heart of this divine  ambience,

As a precious jewel  in the crown,
Lies an expanse of nature's beauty 
Famed as the Valley Of Flowers.

  .