I scribbled this poetry while waiting for the dinner ordered, in an Italian restaurant, last evening.
Purely for fun. I didn’t have Margarita last evening, I was not Indra in the last birth but am now with my own kingdom, though no Airavath, no Durvasa, no garland, no curse!
—–
Margarita* oh, Dear!
On my table so near
What a color so clear
Margarita, oh, Dear!
I’m Indra, sorry, I was
Dazzling king of the Dewas
Gifted me a garland Rishi Durwas
Amazing its fragrance was!
Urvasi danced moving her hips
Pomegranate seeds were Rampa’s lips
Tilothama’s breasts looked for dips
Menaka enjoyed Sura sips
Everyone danced, even my mount
Enjoying the curvy girls’ movement
Intoxicating was the flower smell
All we were under a magic spell
I forgot to wear the sage’s wreath,
Placed it on the head of Airavath
It’s smell went into its breath
He shirked his head, the wreath on earth!
Seeing his gift cast on the soil
The Rishi got wild, his blood boiled
He cursed me to doom, my life spoiled
Nosed down like a huge spring uncoiled
The Sage turned around and saw all dancing
He cursed everyone, his rage bouncing.
Forget my old story, now no dancing, no cursing,
Margarita dear, your look is amusing!
Margarita, oh, Dear!
On my table so near
What a color so clear
Margarita, oh, Dear!
*A cocktail
Smiles vaporize soon,
Sorrows stay at the bottom.
God, let me not be the cause of sorrow
For anyone, anywhere.
Sharper than razor blade edges
A single word can slice into peaces
A heart, a family or burn a city
Totally, with no pity!
Words are not mere alphabets
Arranged in an order
They build, destroy,
Unite, divide.
Words can build a home
Why, even a mighty Rome!
Let my words be
Like fresh rain drops from a clean sky
Cool, rejuvenate, refresh
A parched land or a torched life!
Let my words soothe wounds
Or show way in a dark kitchen
To help a mother to ignite her stove
Cook food and feed her children.
Mother Saraswathy!
Stay on my tongue
Release good words
Restrain bad words.
I’m thine!
My wine glass will be empty soon
No worry, it can be refilled.
But, when my mind gets empty,
When my life becomes dull and deprived
God, fill with the nectar of your love
Again and again
Till it’s essence gets absorbed in my blood.
Many thoughts
Often clutter and clash
Dent and deprive oxygen,
In my inner chamber
Let your Garuda with a big beak
Destroy those dirty bleak
Rats, rodents and roaches .
My regrets, pains and worries
Stagnated in the sub layers
Be sucked by your mighty Serpent Anantha.
With thousand heads, thousand mouths.
And will you my Lord,
Convert my body to sand and pebbles
On the shore of the Milk ocean
Where you stay?
Who knows that some kind waves
Or breeze or even a storm
Won’t lift a few granules of mine
And place at your feet
For a few minutes
Or a few seconds?
And Mother Ganges flowing from your feet
Will sanctify me and take down to the sea
Or not a big job for the mighty waves
To wash me off from your feet.
Anantha Padmanabha, till then
Fill my cup with wine
Of thoughts that you’re mine, 
And I’m thine !!
‘Ammalu, the sankranthi greetings received by me from foreign countries are in fact, bouquets of praises for my proficiency in English’
‘Your English is much better now?’
‘When was it bad, madam?’
‘Before you married me. You remember, you stopped me on the bank of the Kalpathy river and proposed to me (in foreign style unnecessarily) dropping down on one knee, and asked, ‘will you carry me?’ instead of, ‘will you marry me?’
Not yet empty my glass of wine,
It will, anytime, I don’t mind.
Glass is fragile, it will break,
Even mountains crack.
No wines can drowse me
Some friends see stars mid day,
And dance on the highway,
Not me, but don’t know why I asked
‘Is your colour from my heart?
Is your smell from my sorrows?’
Meaningless was my query
But the wine was in a hurry
To respond : my color is my own
My smell is my own.
Your sorrows are your own
Your heart, not my part.
It was clear wines care least for me
That’s why I don’t worry
If the wine glass crack or break!
The sky never misses watching over us
Mocking and teasing the layers of warm clothes
Pokes the winter breeze, slices the skin.
A few steps from my car to theater lounge
I struggle to reach,
Good I didn’t.
I look up at the heavenly bliss
It is a full moon night!
What a glory in the sky
The moon moves in shy
Like a bride to the church
wearing a wedding gown,
Like a white lotus flower
Pushed by a lovely swan!
I pause for a minute and muse-
Is it not the one thousandth moon
the proverbial boon,
Gifted for the lucky few
Like me, to watch
Before we reach
The final porch ?
I would have missed watching the Moon
But never she.
While passing over the Kalpathy river
She would have peeped through the window
Into the inner bowl of my mom
Or later, would have sprinkled
Her cool rays of comfort
Wherever I might have been
During all these years
Four score and one !
I could have gone to Mansaroravar
To walk around and watch the beauty
And magnanimity of Kailas
The golden mount,
Swans moving slowly
As in a dream
The Light and shade show
But, I didn’t, I didn’t
Fearing the cold breeze
Given by God!
It was not a joke to create planets
But just to have a look at them
We have no time!
What a loss!
How many moons
I would have missed!
Not a single food in noon
I missed, though!
We may miss watching the sky
But the sky never misses watching over us!
Vedam, vedantham,
Sangeetham, Sahithyam,
Sathyam, asathyam,
Nyayam, anyayam,
MBA, MBBS, MSc, PhD,
Rascal, rowdi, Gem of a man,
Sanyasi, samsari,
Sudham, asudham,
Hiranyakasipu, Prahladan
———
Out in a single shot
There they roll in the flood waters
Right before my eyes
Every day, every second!
Watching the fun on the bank
Certain that I’m here for ever,
I click selfies of my head,
Chest and toe nails
Frame the picture
And hang on a wall!
