Chudidars
From five year old to fifty year mold
it is the most preferred mode
piercing unto the village mobs
misshape features go hiding under this robe
neck to knee, a one sheet shutter
kabuli pants for magnum thigh and buttocks
loose fitting free size easy wear sacks
nested in safety, their movements are unfettered
full-drawn curtains over high power grids
teasing eyes can have no happy raids
sun shine is barred inside the chambers
faces of soldiers, roaming in Armour
The blouse and saree with limited windows
can have a telling story of its own
even while on your deepest dreams
chudidars have no place - and such is our culture
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poem by Santhana Louis
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Auto STOP
she is so fast
in walking,
bathing and dressing
within minutes -
she stands in front
in neat, simple
grand unique style
she is still fast
in cooking
a variety of
palatable dishes -
ready within minutes
steaming hot
and rich in aroma -
a rare gifted touch
she is again fast
in her routine chores -
house-setting and neatness
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poem by Santhana Louis
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He Man Army
HE MAN ARMY
If I were to be given a free license to kill
whom should I aim and shoot at first
…..not those innocent birds or beasts
nor the menacing tuskers or man-eaters
I would prefer to terminate every corrupt mean rogue
but, God is there and has to punish such souls
I have no business to step into His shoes
Neither, He delegates powers in me to be on this role
nor myself a man of virtues to launch a crusade of my own
yet, I would be one among the God's ‘Demolition Squad'
fully masked with laser - guns, in wait for His NOD
to wipe out every evil within split seconds
restoring peace and order, turning EARTH to its original kind.
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poem by Santhana Louis
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Maya....maya....mayan.....maya
MAYA …..MAYA…..MAYAN…..MAYA
Thank God, you had not
made me something different
and allowing me to express freely - even
to speak ill of you boldly
watching all events, but very silently
showing your might only selectively - yet, surely
but, one thing I am unable appreciate
is your habit of putting true devotees to harsh tests
someone is spreading, that your count-down has begun
(by 21 Dec.2012) as per the much acclaimed Mayan calendar
to destroy this Universe as a measure of punishment
if such is the case, please tell me secretly in advance
Taking now shelter, ………I would emerge
.........as the first batch of ‘new settlers' ELSEWHERE.
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poem by Santhana Louis
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God Must Be Crazy
Slowly and slowly
without myself knowing
life in me is fast fading
knocked down by a deadly disease
complete body checks and running scans
in intensive ward under hi-tech care
reversing the God's decided plan
is not so easy for the clinical gang
at dawn, on the doom's day
God rolled in on a wheeled-chair
whispered to me that I am to depart today
despite the fight we put up all these days
pulse ran high and there was an alarm
God wished me to be cool and calm
handed to me His bill for rescue
'not lakhs of rupees, but a sterile heart'
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poem by Santhana Louis
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A Stand By
Across hundred face, all so nice
Her's is so special, a matured ace
Spilling always a melancholic shade
As if, self-exiled from the present day world
Married to a banker and herself a teacher
But their hopes dashed - now locked up in a divorce
In the absence of any patching up gestures
Time alone can heal their unfortunate ruptures
Seldom she smiles, that too in a reluctant style
Speaks very little, as a recorded device
Taking into account her age and texture
She seems, reeling under untold pressures
I have thrown my hat in the race
Ready to accept her hand, once she is freed
Wish, I am fit to render her much needed solace
For, I knew her from childhood, as an old time soul-mate.
poem by Santhana Louis
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Black And Beautiful
BLACK AND BEAUTIFUL
She is thick black and of normal built
no one would have loved her at first sight
worshipful features, her innocent looks
lost my senses, fell with her in deep love
brilliant mind, with all round knowledge
pleasing manners, soft crisp replies
quick to smile, her sense of humour
I am thus lost to her instant riches
abundant talents from cooking to painting
strong moral fabric with immense patience
unblemished habits, sober in dresses
no need to go about in search of a better love
practical approach and affectionate outreach
her dull complexion, is the real mischief
for your eyes - she may look stark black,
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poem by Santhana Louis
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My First Lady
The First Lady
We studied together
Up to the middle school level
In an infamous board high school
As closely sitting classmates
I had some peculiar
Interest in her
And half of the time
Only staring at her
She always stood first
But, I didn't envy at her
When she was found to be sad or upset
It instantly tuned me to her line of distress
Under the influence of movies that time
I threw some poetic verses at her
She was so generous and tactful indeed
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Divorced........divided, we stand
Divorced……...DIVIDED, WE STAND
Don't be scared at the word………….DIVORCE
It is a tool, a blessing in disguise
for those who have suffered excessive grief
cutting the cards to a perfect relief
always be good, patient and pure
with your options wide open to the fore
at last, exhausting all the weapons in store
when trails are over, steer away to the shores
the lawful axe that throws you apart
with a view that you should hopefully re-start
The Paradise Lost or The Paradise Regained
it is up to you to choose your lot
the softest man is pitted against a witch
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poem by Santhana Louis
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Generation Gap That Snaps
I a m too over-aged
for adventures and acrobatics
but, self-taught, learned, the best single-judge
always prudent and practical and of matured edge.
but I find myself so badly side-lined
by my sons, on the plea of generation wideness
a few tiny, immaterial, exterior physical changes
are quoted as reasons for our total rejections
Truth, discipline, duty, obedience and values
are the ‘standing orders' for all the ages
your petty life - span of fifty or eighty
cannot bestow in you the powers to alienate
The way the present generation grows and
the horrible foot-prints their descendants would follow
the civilization stands now in a dangerous cross-road
the actual countdown then begins for its TOTAL DOWNFALL.
poem by Santhana Louis
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