Friday, 26 December 2014


I found the Infant, sacred, the heavenly grace,
In the virgin’s lap, in manger, the face,
Blazing amidst the angels, the shepherds,
Who sing the praise, the glory with herds.
I found the Infant in that hut,
Dilapidated, broken, shattered which cut
Down in pain their defeated life,
In vulnerable, savage, outpouring grief.
I found the Infant in the faces sweat,
Of the tillers, in their troubled eyes wet;
And in the pale lips of the path maker,
Who toil in the sun, in the rain, in the courner;
In the maid wearing cloaks all torn,
In the eyes of the unknown kids who born
 Orphans, passing the merciless dawn;
In the patients shivering in death bed who mourn,
Disappointed, wretched, in the isolated ward
Aside dark corridors no one to guard;
In the voice, trembling, of the helpless crowd,
The prey of terrorists, amidst blasts aloud,
In the depth of desperate sunken eye,
In all the flesh and blood who weep and sigh;
And in the hands weary, the shelterless beggars,
I found Him, in their life struggles.

Never found Him, the Holy Infant,
Though I searched in palace in front-
Of luxury, in mansions of richness;
In the faces fat, in cheeks of happiness;
In the lips crimson with poisonous blood;
In the tongues of spears and sharpened sword;
Which stretch to utter just flattery pomp,
And explode to mangle with words of bomb.
Neither in the altars of temples or church,
Where only battles of powers do march,
Nor in the kingdoms of world, in the siege;
Nor in the artillery from where no refuge;
Nor in the hearts proud, so jealous,
Storming towards the humble, the gentle, the pious;
Nowhere in the flashes of gunfire sound
The grace, the glorious face never I found.
I found Him, the humility, in every manger simple,
In all the hearts humane, ardent and humble,
In the virgin’s lap, joyfully with heavenly grace,
Showering the blessings of eternal peace,
To send the rich away, their hands empty,
To bring down the kings, strong and mighty,
To fill the hungry well, to lift up the lowly,
Smiling the Infant in the manger lovely!!

Thursday, 20 November 2014


      Falls the golden lamp, the brain,
      Snap the nerves, the silver chain,
      Breaks the rope of cords at the well,
      The water jar, the liver shatters, the knell,
       Arms tremble, turns hair white,
       Ears deaf, legs weak, disappear teeth bright,
       Grow dim the sun, the stars, the moon,
       In the streets hears the cry, the mourn,
Comes the ruler of all mankind,
The crown less king, the icy hand,
Where the clock of life stops to wind,
To go back to soil, the curtain behind.
Wisdom or madness burns in wood,
Where laughter and pleasure do no good,
Knowledge and foolishness never shine,
None can cheer himself with wine,
Rich and poor face the same lot,
The wings of death break earthen pot,
Can anyone chase the wind ever?
Asks David’s son, the philosopher.
To the dust mortal bodies return,
Go back to God the breath, no turn,
Sin, the sin of Eden brought the death
To the whole race who takes birth.
            Alas! The people! Dead spiritually!
         Who do actions filthy, immorally,
            Worship idols, fight, being jealous,
Angry, envious, and ambitious,
Separate into groups, forming parties,
Get drunk, boundless, become enemies,
Have orgies, do witchcraft, fraud,
Will never possess the kingdom of God.
Put to death, the nature, human,
With all its desires and passion,
Let the spirit direct life always,
Who has given it with immense grace,
Who does produce joy and patience,
Self control, kindness and peace,
The blooms of humility and goodness,
The fragrance of love and faithfulness.
Wants of human nature; of the spirit,
Two enemies in one’s soul, which fight,
Let the spirit control, no doubt,
Let the spirit lead, do not wait,
To a death, spiritual, it may lead
Doom of the soul, its good deed.
Spiritually dead, arise, awake,
Belong to Christ to your own sake.

Sat the faithful, the true heir,
With eyes, a flame of glowing fire,
Wearing many crowns on His head,
Robe, His robe, covered with blood,
To the final judgement, the fight,
From the throne great and white,
With justice, judges, The Word of God,
The Truth, the Almighty, the Lamb, the Lord,
Followed the armies, the angels of heaven,
Him who dressed in clear white linen,
On white horses, triumphantly, He rode,
Out His mouth came the sharp sword,
            To rule with the iron rod, to defeat,
            The beast, the armies, the false prophet,
            From His presence suddenly fled,
            The earth, the heaven but the dead
            Great and small alike stood,
Books of Living were soon opened,
To judge the deeds of all those dead,
The sea, the world gave whom they held.
Into the Lake of Fire were thrown,
The death, the names those not seen...
In the Lake of Fire, the second death,
If not in the book, the eternal death.


Set the hearts in holy heaven,
In Christ, on His magnificent throne,
At the right-hand side of the God
There, keep minds in His abode,
Take off old self, desires of earth,
Things here, human, put to death,
Put on bravely the new pure self,
Realize Christ, the sole real life.
Clothe yourselves with the best kindness,
Compassion, humility and gentleness,
Patience, the lantern, the light may give,
Tolerance with one another to forgive,
Add love which may gracefully bind,
In perfect unity, the people, all kind,
Let the peace of Christ alone guide,
In all decisions far and wide.
Sing! Sing! Psalms and holy hymn,
The sacred songs of thanks to Him!
The King of Kings! Be yourselves proud!
The Lord of Lords!  Birds, Praise aloud!
The people of God, the righteous, the chosen,
The loved, the fortunate to be His own,
Will rejoice with Him, the jewel gaudy,
When He appears in His glory!!

Obliged to: Genesis, Ecclesiastes, Galatians, Revelation & Colossians.

Wednesday, 5 November 2014


May I sit in this pleasant shade,
In the  bed, the withered leaves made,
In the scattered flowers pretty clad,
Once again to make me glad.

Watching  the tiny sparrows’ flirt
From flower to flower while they flit,
May dreams blossom here again,
Dissolving lassitude, remorse pain.

While the branches swaying with shrill
Pitch of gentle wind hill to hill,
Let the breath join the breath cool,
As the mist over a silent pool.

May I rest in the shadow awhile,
To melt the tears in the smile,
May a light breeze touch the face still,
Making the cheeks redden with thrill.

While the larks float over the dale,
Waits alone a serene nightingale,
Forgets to sing? Forgets to sing??
Whispers moonlight hugging its wing.

While the buds blossom in shadows lurk,
Waits alone a red madder in murk,
Forgets to bloom? Forgets to bloom??
Hum tiny bees encircling in gloom.

While celestial lights brightly blush,
Waits alone a stream to gush,
Forgets to flow? Forgets to flow??
Warble the pebbles together to go.

While it snows, it snows and snows,
Waits alone a branch among rows,
Forgets to chill? Forgets to chill??
Rustle tender leaves unfolding to fill.

While it rains, it rains and rains,
Waits alone a cloud again, again
Forgets to drizzle? Forgets to drizzle??
Blows bugle a hornbill with bristle.

May I sit in this pleasant shade,
In the  bed, withered leaves made,
In the scattered flowers pretty clad,
Once again to make me glad!

Thursday, 16 October 2014


The day a girl is happily thrown,
As decorated doll with jewel or thorn!
Either to hell or joyful heaven,
Adorned with a diamond crown!
The day of gladness, the wedding day,
The day of sweetness in jolly way,
Moments amazing from home away,
Shower of blessings, a hope, a ray.

Thousand blue-bells bloom aside,
Thousand orions rise and hide,
Fairies whisper new fantasies!
Fancies! Fancies! Just fallacies!!
Filled in mirth towards worlds unknown
Two rivers join while moonlight shone,
Fingers play the golden harp!
The strings of love! Never they sharp.

Dream buds blossom or withers,
Drops of bless or curse as tears,
Rushes joy or gloom as waterfalls,
Fills or empties heart’s mild walls,
White or black, who ever knows?
Rain or drought none ever sows,
The travel extends short or long,
Must carry patience all along.

Many fail making lanterns dark,
Never again their love flames spark,
Heart hard being a caged lark,
Lose patience the permanent mark.
Many fail who fill poison bitter,
In the veins instead love’s glitter,
Let them flow and fill again,
The drops of honey, snow and rain!

The end who knows the destiny?
Pray not to finish in mutiny,
When charm and beauty stop twinkling,
Wealth and health not sparkling.
As a candle, bride, glow and see,
Light the soul aside and strive to be,
A light-house rising towards the sky,
Withstanding the waves roaring high!!

Tuesday, 23 September 2014


Oh! Lovely mother, where do you hide?
Away from your lonely little child?
Whom, before years, you painfully left
With tears, from your feeding breast?
Delay not to rescue the little bud
Anguished, anew, from thorns wild
Secluded to be willy-nilly tough
A blank sky, starless, dark and rough.
A motherless kid, away,away, afar
Deserted in lonely abode, abandoned ashore
Of thickened life stream; recall
Do not close your vision, your soul;
For neither a gentle touch, nor a smile,
Nor a word soft, nor anything awhile,
Nor a jasmine bud, nor a crimson rose,
Nor any dew drops, nothing can arose
Except the gentle breeze, the drizzles
Of motherly love; from all puzzles.

Sleeps in a coffin, a lovely bride
Deaf, dumb and blind to her kids beside,
The blossom goes to the silent unknown valley
Of souls, from a delightful world, jolly.
Guest for a while; the home without you
A new moon night, garden of no hue!
No glimpse of trust, pure, white as snow
Faces fake, unreal, just a show.
Lifeless, a whitewashed polished tomb
How glorious! The life in your womb!
Feeling your fondle, hearing the lullaby,
The overwhelmed nectar, the life-giving honey.
From your heart, the heart of your heart,
The warmth enfolds, enfolds all part.
Oh! Lovely mother, where do you hide?
Afar from your lonely little child?
Whom before years you painfully left,
With tears, from your feeding breast?

Childhood, somber, colourless youth,
Passed through a glen, no one to soothe,
A solitary bird, isolated, never sang,
Alone in nest, in the depth of pang,
Not in the mirror of thought, even the face
Forgone, which faded early the space.
The lantern put out in violent storm,
But glows, glows brightly in home,
The white rose, withered, withered, pure,
Yet fills its luster still, still sure.
Motherhood, tranquil, a vanished dream,
The soul alive, alive as a beam.
Twinkles, inspires, cheers to spark,
A luminous crescent, in clouds dark.
Oh! Lovely mother, where do you hide?
Away from your lonely little child?
Whom before years you painfully left
 With tears from your feeding breast??