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Jay P Narain

Hopeless Romantic

Loneliness has made me a hopeless romantic,
I don't have the youth or charm to offer you,
I don't have the great health or wealth to share with you,
I only have me, a hopeless romantic, to make you smile at me.

When you first smiled at me,
your greetings ignited the sparkles of love in me,
I saw the mirage of the love oasis in your eyes,
I daydreamt of the fountain of affection in your smiles.

When you first touched my hands,
I almost got electrocuted by the loving sensation,
When I squeezed your hands with mine,
the sweats of love were born in the warmth of our affection.

When we were together for a few moments,
my loneliness hid itself in some distant corner,
Those few hours of conversation, fun and games,
will remain in my thoughts for days to come.

[...] Read more

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The rain and the lake

And the lake asked the rain,
Why do you overwhelm with your love over and over again?
The rain broke for a while for a thought,
and came back with more showers as the eternal play of love.

Rain said I came from distant land and oceans to meet you,
Lake said I have been waiting forever for you.
Rain said I am the true lover, I dissipate and merge in you,
Lake said Thank you rain, I am the reservoir of love,
I keep your love and share it with others who want it.

Rain said I am glorious, come with thundering dark to fluffy soothing clouds,
I provide the world with the nectar of life,
Lake said I am still and adore the beautiful mountain and blue skies,
I provide heaven to all forms of aquatic lives.

Rain said even when I am breaking away, I bring the beautiful rainbow,
I provide a bridge from land to heavens for thoughts to ponder,
Lake said I have overcome the emotions of joyful sunny days and dark gloomy nights,
I only feel happy when I am desired by somebody.

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Making Of A Poem

What's a poem?
It's a metaphor, it's a metaphor,
What's a metaphor?
'It is a device for seeing something in terms of something else.
It brings out the thisness of that, or a thatness of this.'

How do I write a metaphor?
Think of rain as the cry of the heavens,
Think of love as a rose,
Think of burning candle as the agony of a lonely heart.

How do I piece together metaphors?
On a moonlit night, I see my love reflected in the moon's silvery light,
Holding her tight, I smell the fragrance of jasmine tonight,
Adoring her smile, I see the beauty of monarch butterflies,
Staring in her eyes, I see the oasis of love in my high desert lonely life.

How do I write a poem?
I love her but have not a spoken a word.
You have the inspiration, put in some romantic words.

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The super moon

The super moon shines over the mountain with silvery shining light,
Moon so big in size sends the wise owl flying in fright,
Hyenas stop laughing for a while to watch the smile on moon's face tonight.
The mountain and its trees adore this beautiful sight.

The mountain and its trees adore this beautiful sight,
The silvery charm brings the memory of my mom's lullaby,
'Uncle moon, please come down and bring the rice and milk for my child in the golden pot tonight',
My heart tries to search the beauty of my love in the big smiling moon so nearby.

My heart tries to search the beauty of my love in the big smiling moon so nearby,
It is hard to decide who is prettier, the moon or my love tonight,
The silver rays mesmerize my eyes with so much love and tranquility,
That I wish we will be together in love forever we are in sight.

That I wish we will be together in love forever we are in sight,
When I rub my sleepy eyes in the dawns early light,
With heavy heart I bid goodbye to this sight,
May be in next hundred years, my roaming soul will watch again this beautiful sight.

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I am glad, I am getting old

Every morning when I feel the sunshine,
filtering in my room over the hills and trees,
I remember my care free childhood mornings,
when my parents would happily toss me up and down in air,
I remember the beautiful dawn of my married life,
when me and my wife would feel eternally bonded together in the sunshine,
Now I am all alone welcoming the cheerful day,
The shadows of the past have made me think that I am getting old.

I look at my picture album sometimes,
I wonder why my hairline is shrinking away,
I wonder why it is getting harder to chew the food everyday,
I wonder where my adrenaline is gone these days,
why can't I play the soccer and the tennis as I used to,
till my kids and people around me remind me,
that I am not only getting old, but I am old.

I used to look for respect in my younger days,
till I realized that the respect is given not expected,
now I find it everywhere even from people I never knew,

[...] Read more

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My Photo Album

The photo album stores the history of my life,
Every page is the mirror of bygone days,
The reflections in the mirror brings memories alive,
The memories which beam me magically in the world of my choice.

A first few pages of my album are blank,
As a little kid I did not want to stand in front of a box with a man in black hood,
I did not want to be seen upside down in his view finder,
I was happier playing soccer somewhere else in the nearby play ground.

The b & w family portrait of me, my siblings and my parents is my prize possession,
It was a rare event when we all could gather and pose for a moment,
Now some are grown up, some have left our midst,
The glimpse of all of us together brings the emotions of close family ties.

As I turn the pages of my album,
I see happiness radiating from every picture,
May it be a smile of a family member or mine,
Or it may be the beauty of the nature smiling at me,
Every picture brings a memory flashback,

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My first day in school

More than half a century ago,
the Monsoon showers had just brought relief from the sweltering summer,
just when I was dreaming of playing soccer whole day outdoors,
My Dad decided that I have to attend an elementary school.

I was dragged a mile by my older brother to my new school,
It would be my favorite Durga Temple converted into a school,
My dreams of a class with benches and chairs just vanished,
As we were sitting on the floor in open partitioned classrooms of the school.

I thought I would get a nice colorful uniform to wear to school,
but it looked like that the dress code was a futuristic dream,
At least every class had a black board bigger than my slate,
the teacher had a duster whereas I had to wipe the chalk with my hand.

The fear of some burly kids and nostalgia of home made me sad and homesick,
I could not stop crying and asking my teacher to let me go home.

I still remember the teacher with big black cane,
every time I cried to go home, I got a whack on my palm with his cane,

[...] Read more

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