Where the mind?

WHERE the mind is without fear and the head is held high
Where the cry of hunger is always answered
Where politicians behave responsibly to the nation and not only to themselves
Where the law is one that is followed and not circumvented
Where our children and God are more important than our cell phones
   and laughter is real and not televised.
Where the playing fields are level
Where one understands his own religion first, before questioning another
Where we grieve the killing of trees, of the innocent and the farmer
Where greed exists in the want of knowledge and not materialism
   and respect is garnered from deeds and not wealth
Where progress is not commercialisation but satisfaction through simple activities
Where our every action is to help another, irrespective of religion or position or quid pro quo.
Into broadmindedness and limitless boundaries
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let me and my country awake.

(Inspired by Rabindranath Tagore)

The Brothel

Lips smeared red, dark and swollen
Eyes shining black and bordered
Her hair held loosely by a pointed pin
A large red dot darkens her forehead

Hips sway in emphasized measure
Her breasts full, ride on bashful waves
Every step pattered with pleasure
Her arms hold many a man’s embrace

At the window, strutting, a little dove.
She smiles, looking over her man’s ear
Little bird do you know what is love?
Will I ever find any of it lying over here?

They laugh together, loud and mocking
Each recounting her nights so clear
Clapping out depths pained reckoning
Their laughter hides many a tear

And then she sees him down below
Swaying around, high on contempt
A face forbidden at that window
Cause for him her heart was spent

Years ago
when the sun its rays had smothered.
When she had surrendered to hell
A child she had picked up and nurtured
From the doorstep of this brothel.

Soul

A lady cried out ‘Souls'
At the gate of the Mayo Hall
With neither begging bowls
Or open palm for coin to fall.

She cried out Souls again
'I have souls to sell, want one? '
I decided why try and attain
When you can buy, oh what fun.


Now I got two of them for fifty
Kind of a deal, she said, comes in pairs
I'm saved, but I don't feel so thrifty
My Sole  now protected from wear.

River of life

One. Just one at a time
Drip by drip begins this song
First one drop and then the other
Searching for its feet to stumble along

Meandering across unknown ground
Shaky, crawling, eating up earth
Falling, bouncing, rolling over
Joys untold from a stream at birth

Dashing its way across the land
Learning, feeling, seeking, tasting
Little pearls of wisdom and vice
Reflected through the dark and lighting

Bouncing across rocks unafraid
Challenging every steep and climb,
Dying with every fall to live again
Riding with the flow sublime

Threading its way on lower plains
Youth has shifted to slower gear
Responsibility cloaked in maturity
Drifting cautiously, slow, unsecure

Dying into the sea of the world
Becoming one with earth and heaven
No sacrifice, regrets, loss and tears.
For in giving of oneself there is no end.

Plenty

Summer crackles noisily claiming her share 
The green cover lost to depths of the earth
The rain of plenty has not a cloud to spare
And the sun bleeds spite in diminutive dearth

When disappointment smirks at every turn
Each task simply undone, twisted and wrong
The reign of plenty every hand does spurn
Then anger and spite burns uninhibitedly strong

When the winds of expectation flutter and stall
Burdened with emptiness in sorrow we grope
And deign aplenty in anguish, to our knees we fall
And prayer rides on wings of fear, failure and hope.

It’s the season to remember and to realize
That life indefinite is defined by the One
The pain aplenty spent on a cross, a sacrifice
Just for you – He lent himself, His only son.

Now

Now
Is a child
Wanting
to be all grown.
A childhood lost
when time is on a loan


Now
Is a rainbow
A psychedelic belt
Across heavens fat waist.
Catch it before it disappears
In the smog, the minds distaste


Now
Is a tune
A note whistling
through parted lips.
It's around in the air
then chasing swaying hips.


Now
Is a smile
Probably break
Into crazy laughter.
It’s on someone’s face
Don’t lose it ever after


Now
Is a time
Maybe good
or not as bad
Its here right now
Take it and go mad


Now
Is this page
Were you are invited
To add to what’s above
With form and little rhyme
And tell us about your NOW

Khambali Bucci

Life was moving really slow in the crawl
A blob in a multitude of moving spiky hair
This world he had decided was much too small
Life on the other side must be greener, say fair

A creature in motion, style and slight swagger
With more fuzz on, he thought he looked cool
Anytime he could curl up in the face of danger
Every shuffle, he hoped the chicks would drool

Right across that great black dusty divide
He had seen a sign flashing through every night.
A connection there was, he did decide
Needed to traverse and meet this revealing light.

But this blackness was a river of flight
Of things rolling by, some slow, some just a blur
Unceasing, not resting by day or by night
What a life, that needed movement to reassure?

Then one clear morning this shag carpet with legs
Decided to take the plunge across the asphalt river
With white lines dividing it in intermittent breaks
He dived into this irreversible test of his future

Puffing down, driving his many legs forwards
He inches his way with speed and determine
Not willing to be scared off by the wheelie retards.
And just then one blows him across a full line

His mind screams “this isn’t safe”, “not worth a sign”
You will end up pasted thin by this rolling madness.
But thoughts of failure and death he does resign
To that of greatness, trumpets and hair raising success.

Finally across. The flashing sign he looks at with pride
‘I knew it’ he screams as he slowly reads G-U-C-C-I 
I knew we were related from across this great divide
You see sir; my name is Khambali B-U-C-C-I.

I will protest

I will protest
And I will protest
In street corners
And city centers
I will protest

I will protest
And I will protest
Till I am heard
Hate smeared
I will protest

I will protest
And I will protest
Till what is right
Still I will fight
I will protest

I will protest
And I will protest
Me they will kill
But my words still
will protest

Protesting the killing of journalists, journalism and freedom of speech in recent times. This is not the spirit of Free India.

The River and me

I stood in the river

as I always did 

Playing with my friends

And the river played with us

I crossed the river

as I always did

Lightly it carried our boat

Across a million suns afloat

I went down to the river

as I always did  

But the river was angry

Swollen,a flow gone awry

I didn't go down to the river

as I always did

For the river came out to roam

Took everything, including my home

I went down to the river

as I always did

On the banks lined our waste

A vomit of disgrace

I stood in the river 

as I always did

Streams of soothing caress

Washing away; my pain undress

My Self

Oh life, 

Free me of my self

Free me of my wants

And my mind's demands

And let me fly free

To fly as none,

Free of me

Rhyme

When words and thought combine
In poetic verse sans rhyme.
It's like the feast one's invited to dine
In culinary splendour, sans wine.

Death

When life has played its part
And death breathes once and last
When tears dry, and all left are bones and burnt
Let the waters spread the ashes to unknown ends.
And then briefly remain a memory, a thought 
That surely in God’s time will be forever lost 

Teacher

I stand alone in front of young minds
Some eager, some distant, to what I have to offer.
Little minds that have to be moulded
Like clay in the hands of the potter.

What do I say to them? What to make them listen? 
Is it strong words and the rod un-spared? 
Or words of understanding and of love
Or the knowledge from which I’ve prepared.

Young minds curious, inquisitive, questioning
Who made the earth? Can’t we do without geography? 
Math is a bore! And science we need no more.
What’s with history or for that matter even biology? 

Big minds of little stars with learned light to fuel.
What ideas can I employ, these unlearned to lure
To thoughts of greatness and knowledge retain
What understanding and magic conjure? 

The pen of knowledge writes not for all
And for the most, it isn’t inked for long.
Help me Lord, not to force in understanding
But direct these little minds to find the right way on. 

Heal me O Lord

When the worry and pain is too much to bear,
And sickness and doubt draws its many creases.
When I seek God, but find Him no where
And the fear of death ever increases.

Then help me realize my illness brings me back to God,
And joy is much more when I realise failure is as mortal
As hurt and sadness? Healing stripes from the Master’s rod.
To mend our self from what is unjust and immoral.

When I am full of myself, when I think of me over my neighbour,
When arrogance overwhelms, and all reason is defeat.
When the haze of happiness makes me forget my Creator.
Then, dear Lord, heal me of myself and my conceit.

And when everything within me is broken and worn
And I am way past hope or mending,
Then O Lord give me the strength to again return
And pray for those who still need your healing.

Breath

It pours itself into the world, giving life to man, beast and flower.
Giving off itself it taketh any form and name
Pouring through the trees, the clouds and the wave.


It floats, rushes, gusts, blows, drags and pushes
It can crush the rock and make rivers weep
It can lift up a storm, twist it and then gently lay it down to sleep


It doesn't leave a shadow nor shed light along the way
Doesn't make a mark or hold on to a possession.
Just wanders from moment to moment in arbitrary succession


It is the carrier of dreams,the whisper of tales, the spreader of rumour
Dances with mating butterflies and brushes against a star
The traveller of the universe, a rider of galaxies beyond the lighted far.


It lifts music from a reed and and gives wings to a seed
It dramatises and perfumes a rainy day
It powders the flowers face and gives a song its way


It caresses the kings pillow and kisses the dog in the street
Parts the lips of the great, the poor and the fool
Burns up passion like the sun and cools down the moon


It rings from Church and temple bells and sings through minarets.
Lifts up from praying lips and carries hopes all the way
For an answers to faith's many calls, every single day


It is the breath of God, the song of the trees, the wind of  life.
But when it ceases to kiss the soul,it  is said
Then man falls, the flower fades and the beast is dead