The Warrior Prince

He was a skillful archer and the pride of his father
arrows just left him by the dozen in all directions
even rivals would admire when he was at his best.

He was clouded by the arrows that left his great bow
and the arrows that try to reach him from his foes
his armor was struck by the many darts falling thick.

He shone in bright glory when the sun was upon him
a true warrior, he destroyed by the thousands that day
it was difficult to injure lest conquer him on that day.

By an act of fateful treachery they could lay him low
but what a lowly act it was and rightly shunned by all
he was a dear son now that death had embraced him.

The prince’s father upon his death, took a vow, that night
that the person, the chief responsible, will surely die
before next sunset, come what may, his head would roll.

The sun set early next day by an act of the mighty God
who chose to help his dear disciple who was righteous
in the ensuing confusion and melee, revenge was taken..

The above poem reflects the events of the 13th day
of the Great war, in the Epic Mahabharatha,between
the Pandavas and the Kauravas where the Pandava
prince Abhimanyu displayed  mighty skills in archery,
fought valiantly till he got killed by an act of treachery…

Care to Pet

Pic Courtesy: MID DAY

My 100th Post on Perceptions. Thank you all for your support…

When  I train my sights on you
How fast you go out of sight
the many coaches mesmerizing
with tiny people heads in them
some waving at me as they pass.

As I stand nearby the tracks in vain
to see if they can share some food
but you trains, you travel so fast
before they know, what I need…

I come to meet you at many a platform
where everyone is buying something
to help them sustain  in their journeys
but no one notices me looking at them
to help sustain me in my journeys!



The Open Window

This was one of the first poems written while in college..


One day, I opened my window
to see children playing below.

But alas, the showers came
the rain god got the blame.

As the sparrows wet in vain
the waters flooded the lane.

The kids roared like insane
while parents took their canes.

They heard their mothers calling
followed by the lightning falling.

This time they yielded with pain
sadly, I shut my window pane.

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Lost forever

There never was and never will be
any one dear to me as you were
but it took long years to know it
now that you are no more with me
How will I reciprocate the feeling
that now criss crosses my mind
now that you are not there…

It took years for the love to mature
just as good old wine with sweetness
that fermented and lingered
How can I now raise a toast to you
to commend you on your support
etching those memoirs in my mind
now that you are not there…

Maid for you

A lady in tatters, who came in search of work
she knew how best she was and yet had doubts
with no one to help poor her, she was rattled
one day she left her village to the city of hearts.

Coming into this big  metropolis, was she lost
in this big city she got never, where to start
she stumbled upon a family who needed her
a maid who could take orders of any kind.

As a donkey she worked for hours on and on
no one cared to ask her if she ate or drank
a bundle of clothes, a clutter of dishes
rooms of varying space was for her to clean.

She served everyone food, but had little to eat
she did the beds for all, yet had none to sleep
when night fell and it dawned she could never tell
how cruelly treated was she, till she fell apart.

Before sleep overtakes, she wonders aloud
if only someone had lent her a helping hand
she need not have come to this city of hearts
that was full of sick people who had none….

The Assassin

As we lived our lives in bliss and peace
you came into our lives well planned
though we did not harbor any ill will
the trigger you pulled was with wanton…

What harm did we poor do to you
did you even blink before you shot
our images splashed across papers
for people to read with their breakfast…

We know you appear in different forms
a soldier, a mad man or a lynching crowd
a bad decision by an inexperienced man
or a cowardly man trying to save himself…

The Poor Girl

Pic Credits: Musa. A flower girl

Each day as I walked to the market
I would see her holding a bunch
of flowers that would sway and say to me
why don’t you get us and relieve poor her..

She would request me, run around me
to buy a few from her, if not a bunch
Those days I could not ever sense
her need to sell them to feed poor her…


The much awaited flight

Having caught my prey
I make up my mind
to get ready to soar
above the nearby hills
to my hut on the cliff.

Putting the final thrust
I lunge forward to take
the wind in my feathers
that helps me glide slowly
over the fields now left behind.

The snake between my claws
is already a dead case
but will make fresh food
for my little ones that await
my flight to arrive in time.