Of Red and White roses

>> Friday, June 1, 2007

Of Red and White roses
Stare not at my white and frozen face
at my upturned nose
still stubborn.
Iron hair.
Ash.

Don't let him read from a book
that an unfortunate bachelor scripted
in his mid-life crisis.

Don't ask an unknown entity
secure a place in never land.

Stop praising my wretched parents

She who never forgot to remind
I was the mistake of a blotched expiry date.
Tell them I spat on her grave
with a dumbfounded crowd suspecting me Possessed.
He tried to devote every moment of his life
To protect, love and understand.
Unforgiven,
he was snatched when I was nine.
The only man I prayed to and for.

Pause at the names of schools and colleges

And then swear.
How they made my life miserable
'cause knowledge comes at a cost.

Talk about the bitch Rachel
stripped me with words in front of the college
Confiscated my I-card, Degree and esteem.
Reminded the Cost of Life.

Don't reside on the urchins I fed
Tell them how I gnawed on leftovers in my teens
When you say I donated clothes,
remind them I had two pairs of shirts for years.

'Magic numbers' they called me at work
Cause I never had paper to practise.
Super-memory, you say
Because I remember every scar I bore.

Enough about my present bosses,
Mishra is the name to cry out
Stole my work, recognition and salary
for 5 whole years.

Dedicate an ode to Sheela
A black-and-gold thread around her neck
bound her to me
through every Indian Tragedy and nightmare.
Unemployed.
Jailed.
Tarnished.
Hospitalised.
Orphaned.
Accused.
She was there.
The dimple on my chin.
And remains.

Yes, my children are big and strong
Hari and Neeta(Bless you!)
They loved, fought, loved.
But I never forgot Sandesh
In my arms, when he was
6 months old.
My arms thence weak
with the burden of a child I couldn't save.

Yes, I have money and cash!
All earned through sweat and blood
so don't you dare bless Destiny!
None of it came through charity
or smashed through my once-tin roof.

The millions of creases on my forehead
Each have a story to tell.
Patience, Wit and Stubbornness
not Wagging, Lies or Bribe.

A Life well Deserved
A Death well Lived.

4 comments:

Self proclaimed Writer. June 8, 2007 at 11:55 AM  

hmm.....worth a thot....our similar outlooks towardz lif death n contmpt as u mention strikingly make ur work interestin to me....btttt whr r ur othr writings???do keep postin.......

Unknown July 3, 2007 at 7:34 AM  

hey roshni, really gr8 imagination...try writin sumthin in a mor poetic form i guess dat wud emphasize more...but dis also is awsum...

WiseDonkay January 22, 2008 at 6:49 AM  

I'm more and more impressed with every work I read by you.....you're truly talented, magnificent job of presenting a never-before-seen point of view.

Raoul March 13, 2008 at 12:30 AM  

I like the way your mind works