Tuesday, August 18, 2009

A Blue Dot and A Red - An Engine Driver and A Chef

What is that blue dot over leaves green?
A flower! Yesterday, that had not been,
What is that red dot over my rail-track,
Is that Blood! Yesterday it had not been
Is that the new paint that the tea stall got?
Is that a cat, river under-bridge has caught?
So many new things my way sees everyday,
I cant stop though, nothing to them I can say
I rush without a pause, to the station last,
And reaching it, it becomes my new start
My room to run train, is full of coal grime,
Am I the engine driver or the passing time.

What is that blue dot over leaves green?
An ink drop I see, why was it left unclean,
What is that red dot over the white napkin?
Lipstick of that dame, is also left unclean,
How did they like the starters, was it hot?
And the macroni, the pudding and tea pot?
I cant stop though, while the waiters serve,
I rush to make another, with same verve,
I wish I get to serve them, with food pile,
Satsfactorily fed I wish to see their smile,
Variety, colors, tastes, all on my shelf,
Am I a chef, or the beautiful nature itself.

Friday, August 14, 2009

I Bay On A Holiday - On Independece Day

May we make ourselves deserving enough for the freedom we have got.

I BAY ON A HOLIDAY
- Jaykumar Shah

I got up to the sound of Lata's sweet melody today,
"Zara aankh mein bharlo pani", it said on a holiday,

I thought my TV was loud, I saw my geyser shout,
I saw a huge electricity bill, it was time to get it out,
I stood up, took the Baggry's Muesli, have to plan,
A movie, some friends, a few drinks down with elan,

My mom says, we got to go for society's flag hoisting,
People gulping samosas with tea, hypocricy foisting,
A thought passed me, and a tv talk played back,
Inflation, Infrastructure, Ingenuity, power outblack;


I curse the government, I curse the administration,
They care for themselves alone, no common ration,
I curse as I move out to bring the tickets for the show,
See the beggars on road, see the dirty paan spit flow,


If this is the life I am going to get for my taxes and pain,
I am going to use my first chance to get back to Britain,
There the life is good, the roads are fine, scotch is nice,
And here people fight for a shelter and a bowl of rice,

I get the tickets, thank god I was on time, I glow,
Coming back, I see the slums, the dirty water flow,
The samosas and tea are over and its time for the flag,
Befor the anthem, I rush back to them throwing my bag,

As I bring my hands above my head, a rising salute,
What fills my heart with pride? anthem sings the flute,
"Jana Gana Mana Adhinayak Jaye hai" flows out,
I think what the poet then must have thought about,

O ruler of mind, O the writer of destiny, O god same,
Vindhya Himachal and from Ganga we chant your name,
We pray, he must have thought for a nation victorious,
Jai hai, Jai Hai he said, as we sing that prespostorous,

We never understood what he had to say but we sang,
I stand there, thought of it, and the thought hit me bang,
He wrote of a country whose Jay-gatha coud be sung,
He wrote of a country whose victories be in all rung,

I thought of the government I cursed and the beggar,
I saw others singing with a pride and ignorance bigger,
All walk out of this, Samosas making them fuller,
If others dont work, we would go back to our ruler,

Yes I too am singing my anthem feeling all pride,
But did I groom my self well for this poet's bride,
Did I live up to the become bharat's bhagya vidhata,
Did I stop when they fought being gujarat-maratha,
"No" Came the answer from deep with in me,
How could I curse others when true I couldnt be,
With hypocricy, with guilt, with sadness I bay,
Jay hai jay hai jay hai jay jay jay jay hai.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Beauty Is Skin Deep

Beauty is just skin deep they say. They are right. But it is our love for the fairer, the good looking that makes us keep the one who are not deprived. We have in our mind, a block against the less beautiful, less charming, less smart and less outgoing. We have a prejudice. This poem is for all of them whom I think are equally beautiful and many a times a lot more beautiful than the ones who get undue importance for their looks. Lets shed our prejudices.

Beauty Is Skin Deep
Jaykumar Shah
We were siblings, she was my sister,
Twins we were, but she was fairer,
Her eyes were blue, features sharp,
Her voice was mellow, She liked lark,
She was beautiful without a blot,
And she was all that I was not
All loved her, ugly me had dearth,
My Grandma exclaimed at our birth,
"What a beautiful child I have got!"
I knew since then,
She was beautiful and I was not.

Together we grew, we shared a life,
She was the fork, and I the knife,
Everyone kissed her, gave me a hug,
She grew smarter, I a silent bug,
In family and pals, to fame she shot,
I knew since then,
She was beatuiful and I was not.

To schools we went and colleges too,
For her, to me, the boys came to,
All of them wanted to take her out,
For me no bloke, my life was in rout,
For the dates, new clothes she bought,
I knew since then,
She was beautiful and I was not.

There was a boy, who liked us both,
Like me he liked the tomato broth,
All three of us were friends best,
I knew, he is her, and I am the rest,
I knew one day, he would ask me for her,
One day he will say, I love your sister,
The month was January and it was fourth,
I remember, to both of us, he came forth,
"Life is long, life needs a partner,
To share the joy, to share laughter",
We knew he was now making expected move,
She looked him in eye, and I in shoe,
"I would be happy and life full of glee,"
He turned to me, "will you marry me?"
I could not react, not even a smile,
To reply with zest, I waited a while,
I thought disheartened she would be,
The man she loved, I knew was he,
I looked at her, a big smile she had got,
I knew since then,
She was beautiful and I was not.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

I am A Clown - A Poem

I AM A CLOWN
-Jaykumar Shah
The bells rang, the theatre is set,
The audience is here and I am dressed,
For today I am the clown sans fret,
And yesterday I was the boy supressed.

I act, leaving my self in the green room,
I close myself in a trunk and turn puppet,
Or am I a puppet when I dont clown around,
Dancing on the tunes, that the others set.

I jump from the horse, I run after dwarfs,
Falling from the sky I catch girls' scarfs,
They laugh at me, the hero takes it all,
I have to be ready tomorrow for another fall

They go, enjoying my failed clowing flight,
My rags they might not and not even my plight,
I am back in to the room, a place I dont own,
I take myself out, wearing down the clown,
I dont belong to my life, to its tune neither,
I am an actor, I am a clown, I prefer either,

I love to live my life, leaving my self away,
I love to see them smile and ridicule my way,
I love to be on stage, as that is my game ball,
Still I wish, I wish I am not the one to fall.
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