Friday, August 2, 2013

Fifteen Years

I look back, trying to recollect,
All the things that have passed,
From the time we cycled to school,
Fifteen years have gone so fast.

Do you remember those matches,
Organised by the school.
The enthusiasm with which we played,
You were known as ‘Captain Cool’.

The ‘combined studies’in your house,
When we ended up playing too,
I think there was a day,
When I lost seven matches to you.

The day you lost your cycle,
The days after, when we had to walk,
The conversations over the phone,
Of politics and other small talk,

The games after the exams,
We played on the road,
‘Rock thatha ‘ would come out yelling,
Threatening to explode.

Fun times those were,
And fun it was, after.
All these years have been,
Memories of fun and laughter.

Continuing ISC thereafter,
You were part of a different group.
I never dared to join in, but,
I was still, somewhere in the loop.

I even remember the day when,
S****** proposed to you,
Why you accepted the proposal,
Even you, didn’t have a clue!

I recollect when your exam went bad,
I put my hand on your shoulder,
Completing studies , we grew up,
But we never got ‘older’.

End of the term and we all thought,
We may never meet again,
We even wrote a poem together,
Describing the parting pain.

But it never happened thus,
And we were never ever  alone,
It’s amazing to think we’re still meeting,
In a foreign place like Cologne.

Saturday, March 23, 2013

Thanking the Past

At the shopping mart,
Collecting my voucher,
I saw him stare at me,
Question himself,

How can such a young boy,
Have more money than me?
When, in fact, I work much harder,
Compared to him, physically?

It made me think now.
What is it that differentiates me?
Why do I have a different job?
And a different destiny?

Education was the answer,
I am probably more educated than him,
At least with respect to that
Defined by the system

But it does not end there,
Why did I get better education?
Is it because my father was educated and
Knew the value of it?

Well, the answer then dates back,
Many years behind,
One of my fore fathers
Has done something right.

Maybe 'right' is not yet the word,
Its not the end yet.
But I am thankful to him or her now,
For having thought differently.

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

The foreigner comes first

Screeching and shouting ,
and blaring horns,
Without a brake,
like breathless songs

I make my way through
the crowded street,
Riding my bike, checking
Facebook and tweet.

Multi tasking is natural,
in the work that I do,
It has even taught me that
patience is not a virtue.

It is only meant, for
the weak and the small,
Not for me , who stands
strong and tall .

Who is that overtaking
me from the right?
Beware brother, I am not
new to a fight.

I have my weapons
And strategies planned,
I can ride over everything,
Whether stone or sand

I dont care if ,
the red light glows,
Maybe its meant for,
The chickens and the crows,

The foot path is a higher
Pedestal to ride,
Built for kings like me,
Open and wide ,

Now decide for yourself,
Would you take a chance,
Humiliate yourself watching,
My victory dance?

Its not my fault brother,
I've got to get to work,
Without me the complete,
World will go berserk,

My customer is waiting
In Germany and USA ,
I've got to take command,
Before its even day,

It doesn't matter to me,
If my country is dying of thirst,
All that I have in mind,
Is, the foreigner comes first.