AUGUST 2008 | POEM |
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MIGRATORY BIRDS |
Of a certain kind, it is as real as day and night. It is life at a distant land or death at a familiar site; Many a heroic stories are told of this annual event. |
For keeping pace with cycles of seasons. They need spaces for little rest on the way, But have no clues for meals on the flight. |
To continue their flight in the morning light. They fly with precision and formation intact, To keep an appointment at a distant land. |
They have a plan for the seasons of life. They flutter and float joyously in the wind, With no respect for boundaries of any kind. |
They put their faith in the lord of the skies. They fly together to reach the distant land, But keep memories intact for a return flight. |
Several times, in a life that so stretched. Their stories are real and full of valour, These stories have merits of a spiritual kind. |
At another time, at another place in ‘Ramayana.’ There was ‘Jetayu,’ my hero, the Lord of the skies, Dying valiantly fighting Ravana for rescuing Sita. |
He gets upset if a meal is not planned, Cooked and served in a traditional mode, Blames his partner if the bed is not made. |
Some live to eat and others eat a little to live; There is a difference in these two styles of life. Do they care for stories of food on the plate? |
‘Man is born free, but is in chain everywhere.’ He digs his hole and goes deeper and deeper, Hooked to a bank on a credit card number. |
Knowing this truth our Lord came down, To liberate man from shackles of bondage, And give freedom for a heavenward flight. |
Erratic weather is a recurring event. Climate Change is our next big plot. Ecological bandwagon is out for a jolt. |
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