A wake up call! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Has our planet ever charged rent for living on it?
It shared its bounty, though some rules were implicit
How could we be so short-sighted and full of greed.
We may have to pay a price for this, God forbid.
Recklessness propelled us to break all the laws
And make plans in the name of progress full of flaws.
Now we have to face the inevitable consequences
Are floods, hurricanes nature’s way of taking vengeance?
Plants, animals and birds are completely confused,
They used to instinctively follow nature’s cues.
Sombrely, new inquiry commissions are being set
To examine global warming and the environment.
How does one go about checking pollution?
Take steps to damage control and find a solution?
You ought to be filled with remorse and penitence
Safe planet was coming generations’ inheritance.
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poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Kadamb tree and Krishna leela! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Lord, far from Vrindavan, I heard your Divine song
Enchanted and in a trance, I hummed as I walked along.
The air was cool, after the rain and mildly fragrant.
With soft, woody, sweet, delicate and light scent.
Dark clouds were floating gently in the sky awhile
Sun was having long needed rest, I thought with a smile.
Lo, to my delight and disbelief, what do I see?
I am standing under the canopy of Kadamb tree.
Spellbound, unmindful of the light showers and the wind,
I saw golden balls of yellow flowers bobbing and swing
Saw you step out of the miniature painting in my mind’s eye.
Playfully watching the milk maids bathing, feeling shy.
In broad day light, stole clothes from the Yamuna’s banks.
Nonchalantly, climbed the Kadamba tree and played pranks
Teasing and laughing as they shivered and watched mute,
Pleading with their eyes, while you played, on your flute.
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poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Are you listening, Prof. Higgins....! ! ! !
Well Prof. Higgins, I’ll like to bring you up to date
Mention of a woman need no longer get you into a state.
You’ll be surprised things have changed
Since Pygmalion was first staged.
No longer a woman’s anxious little hand
Is just waiting to wear a wedding band.
She has far too many interests
Other than her dresses and gloves.
A woman needs as much space
As you rightly said, even if just to laze.
By the way, when she call her friends
They just don’t talk of cars and gizmos to no end.
It’s no longer true that women can’t go out alone
And always need to be chaperoned.
Women too will rather have their tooth drilled
Than live with a man who is utterly selfish.
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poem by Mamta Agarwal
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One Stormy Night
As I heard sound of footsteps outside my door
I stifled my sobs in my throat
And pretended to be fast asleep
As I like to deal privately with my grief.
My apartment faced the sea shore
I could hear the sound of a heavy downpour.
The sea was tumultuous and rough
It was scary to see the waters rise several meters up.
Was it also going into convulsions to express its protest?
I wondered as I lay feeling bereft.
Waves and waves of emotions engulfed me
And I felt I will drown in the sea
Of my sorrow, or my heart will burst.
Whatever happened to my passion and lust
For life, I asked as painful memories resurged.
How did I allow myself to be submerged
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poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Laughter is time tested medicine
People may not be laughing
All the way to the banks,
But going by SMS AND JOKES,
Still some have humour intact.
What if many have closed shop
And filed for bankruptcy,
As they are on the verge
Of going broke and hungry.
All streets-Wall or Dalal-
Bears are roaming freely
Its there day out-
Bulls have retreated meekly.
Who are Lehman Brothers?
What’s all the fuss about?
Are they fighting over property
Is it a family feud?
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poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Joys of Motherhood
When I gingerly held my new born,
I could have at that moment sworn,
As I watched him with moist eyes,
I had no clue my life was going to turn topsy turvy
Sleepless nights, making the formula right,
I think those days I looked a sight.
But when he looked at me with trust
I would forget all my fatigue.
I couldn’t stop talking about him,
At times it irked my husband a bit.
He complained now I have no time
For him and my son was my only priority.
The years flew, he started school,
He looked up to me as his idol
But soon the place was replaced by his teachers,
Who he told me knew better.
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Homage to the Common Man
Step aside,
Kings and princes-
Hamlet, Lear and Othello,
Fictional tragic heroes,
For long
You have kept us
Mesmerised.
Here comes the common man,
Who watches in stupor
As his family is burnt alive.
The last time
He heard his
Dear wife’s voice
Was on the mobile,
Cinema hall is on fire,
There is no way
we can survive.
So this is goodbye.
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My Young Teacher
Anika awakens the child in me,
I watch her, as she fetches her toys
And shows off with pride and glee
With her, I don’t have to act poised.
I know, she is actually aware,
Whether am really having fun
Or just pretending to be there.
She never walks, always runs.
Chasing the butterflies and bees
With her frock flying in the air,
I run after her to ensure and see
She may not fall but she couldn’t care.
She dances with sheer abandon,
She hasn’t yet discovered fear.
Her infectious joy fills me with sudden
Energy, I boldly invite her and declare,
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Freedom From Martyrdom
As I carried a glass of hot milk at night,
I believe has Tryptophan, helps sleep tight.
Passed by his door slightly ajar, hand on mouse
Eyes glued to the lap top, pin dropp silence in the house.
I promised myself to confront him next day
And say in an even and firm tone this is no way.
Next morning at nine o clock rang his cell phone.
Checking his mail he muttered please leave me alone.
Hesitantly he took the call, and raised his voice in irritation,
What, a call from centre for de addiction and rehabilitation?
Glared at me, if only looks could kill; you need help you do;
Please do I as I say, I blurted, or else I am sure to leave you.
He didn’t even pause, said allow me to make reservations.
Totally unprepared, was aghast at his curt suggestion.
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Man with a vision! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Child, its late, are you awake?
Ill pull up quilt and just fake.
He would walk away saying no hurry.
It’s bright and sunny but not to worry.
Oh, it’s his weekly off day.
I thought as I quietly lay.
He loved the family up and around.
House filled with laughter’s sound.
He was a man with vision,
And quietly on a mission.
Today I fondly reminisce
It’s been long since
Heard him recount his life
And how he met his wife.
A woman of substance,
Who learnt classical dance
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