The poor Grocer

A shop keeper was getting old

He used to be a lot charitable

But offlate he was needing it

Now that new ones sprouted

Not many frequented his shop

He did not sell modern goods

His grocery was way too limited

What he had been selling all along

But he persisted on with little profit

His shop and his stock became old

Many needy came to him for help

He started giving what his shop could

One day finally the shop had nothing

Except his faith and lots of patience.

A boy one day came and sat next to him

There is nothing here to give you dear

I am not here to take but to give you

Take this jaggery sell it and pay me

After I come back after a month

Saying so he unloaded a gunny sack

And left our shopkeeper wondering

He kept the jaggery cubes for sale

After keeping some in the sack

Wondering if anyone would buy it

From the next day people flocked to him

For it disappeared from the stocks

Of nearby shops who could not try

To replenish it much as they wished

And wonder of wonders what a sack

It never emptied just like mothers love.

He prospered and waited for the boy

The boy appeared and asked for his sack

Filling it with salt he left with a smile…

The Christmas Hope

The chill with the winter is here,
the holidays are back to rejoice
time to go on a shopping spree?
and what would you dear like
now that Christmas is here again.
Is  it easy or difficult to make a choice
would you buy a red robe, a hat
this time as a sweet year ends
indulge in those cute presents
for a poor kid on the street
to whom Santa is a distant dream
that I would like you to fulfill…

 

Wishing all my dear readers, Happy Holidays, a great Christmas and a Happy New Year ready to unfold into our lives!

Alms to the Almighty

Everyday on the lane of a busy road
I wait for people, strangers to me
to act as good Samaritans, to stop by
me, seated with no one to support.

Across the road is a well to do shrine
with a metal box for devotees to gift
the deity for prayers to be answered
to the shrine that has men to support.

Buses come this lane with seated people
it negotiates the curve where am seated
they throw coins towards the metal box
to the shrine that has men to support.

People my way pause in their steps
they fumble deep in pockets for coins
that have long-lost value and shine
to give me, who has none to support.

I see fruit & milk flowing by the gallons
given as offerings to the deity of plenty
spending hours in queue for a glimpse
of Him in glory longing to take in more.

With an aura of blessings, they come out
crossing over to me, they just pass over
not one taking to glance at wretched me
some feign to give and walk out of sight.

It has been quite some years I shifted
place and face, sitting here for alms
to test my devotees but sorry to say
most of them failed the simple test.