Ma

She stood at the doorstep,

She fixed my tie,

She tied the buckle

As I cried.

“I don’t want to go mamma”

I moaned on and on,

She smiled at me

And to my bus stop, she walked along.

The horn blew, the brakes screeched

I pleaded not to go

I gripped her hand tight

And so she stepped in too and sat beside.

I walked into the class and pearls rolled down,

She could stay no more.

She sat out and when I looked about,

A reassuring smile she wore.

I peeped outside all day,

Fearing she left, if she may

But she sat there with no regret,

Still assuring me, there’s nothing to fret.

I don’t remember how long she’s passed her days like this,

And waited till the day I stopped peeping

Sat outside with the same smile

Till I stopped weeping.

Today, I am old, strong and bold

But she shelters me like a kid

And when I moan, sulk or groan,

She smiles again like she did.

I wonder how long she can still come

To all the places that I fuss to go,

How long will she comfort me

When I feel so numb and low?

When she sleeps beside me at night,

And on the bed we lay,

I still clutch her hand tight

Fearing she leaves, if she may.

Lost

I stand here and struggle

With thoughts that juggle

In my mind for long

It’s like a slow song.

A song that goes on

Which has no stop

No meaning, no rhyme

Just memories sublime.

But now, the empty frame hangs around.

The moments I thought I had bound

Today, I found, were suddenly all gone

Washed by the tide of time and storm.

What I thought was evergreen

Today is not.

And what I live today,

Of that, there are no photos shot.

The Morning News

Today morning as I got out of my bed, I saw the connector. Every morning, it is through this I realise and discover the world I live in. Every morning, it updates me of the latest ongoing and the breaking news to go with a hot cup of coffee. Humans call this daily dose of entertainment a "NEWSPAPER".

My dad always wishes I read the main paper first but all I do is jump, bounce and pounce on the Page 3 section. With maximum attention I read all the important (huh?) and crisp gossip and interviews of the “Page 3 people” (and I have to do that quickly before mom tries to snatch it away!).

However, today, unlike the other days, I was summoned to read the main paper with the look in dad’s eyes that might have sounded (if he had spoken) like “The Ultimate Warning”. And so, resistant yet compelled, I read the “Breaking News".

“A thirty year MBA killed as rash driving auto driver bangs the auto into a six feet crater” and a thesis cum analysis of the entire situation, expert comments on whether it was actually the fault of the auto driver, the mini bus driver who ran over him, the government's lack in maintaining the roads of the city or the sheer bad luck of the dead whose hands were still clutching on to an appointment letter and whose parents were waiting for him to reach home and the celebration to begin.

The second half of the paper read “Rizwanur case appeal this week. Todis refused to be present at the hearing” which reminded me (of the one time that I happened to read the cover page) that it was the same Rizwanur who got killed a year ago for loving and marrying a Hindu in this secular country and whose parents, relatives and other fans still light candles and wait for the culprits to be sent behind the bars.

A corner part of the paper was dedicated to the Tatas and whose headline read “Band to be declared in protest to resist Tata’s Nano investment” accompanied by photos of starving villagers whose sole hope rested on the “once-going-to-get-their-family-job” from the Nano project and who now committed suicides instead to get rid of the burden of never ending poverty.

Every morning, as I get out of my bed and look at the paper, all I do is jump, bounce and pounce on the Page 3 section and read with the maximum attention; not because it enlightens me of the hypocrite world I live in but I prefer to read and live in such a world than the one which has just become!

So, I’d rephrase this one and say, Today morning as I got out of my bed, I saw the connector.Every morning, it is through this I realise and discover the world of murderers that I live in. Every morning, it updates me of the hatred among people, the latest deaths, slaughters and slaughterers-which the butchers like to call the current "hot" and "breaking" news to go with a hot cup of coffee. Humans call this daily dose of “ENTERTAINMENT” a newspaper!