Sunday, 4 March 2018

Guard thine loin

Stories were told to children,
Of the years past,
Which were dry and hard,
Occasioning tight harvests,
Inadequate to feed the folks.
Life, between the seasons,
Was passed with hunger and pains,
Uncertain of the future of kids,
And women and the weak.
Of everyone.
Fear was the mother common to all.

Then the sky appears high,
Clear and blue.
The sun rises and shines.
The weather blows warm air,
Inviting the clouds,
Bringing hope for the rains.
Happiness spreads again,
And again, and again.
Confidence appears high,
Among the Inhabitants,
Who prepare for the farms.

Use the rains wisely.
Cultivate all crops extensively.
Grains, tubers and fruits.
Manage your produce cautiously.
Use what you need.
Forget not the needy.
Store excess “for the rainy day”.
Let no rodent pilfer your stock.
Stand guard against scavengers,
Lest they take you back,
Deeply back to oblivion.

Saturday, 9 December 2017


Sleep, a cataleptic state,
Where the body recedes
Into its helpless mortality.
Bearing its greasy clutches,
Sleep creeps, at its own time,
Like a pleasant predator,
Thief extraordinaire,
Unresponsive to statuses,
To envelop its target.
A nature’s oily paraphernalia, 
Which demands its time shares,
From humanity and co.,
To induce the brain to re-calibrate,
And the self to re-invigorate,
For its endless toils.
Wait a minute,
“Let sleeping dogs lie”.
For all spices in India,
Many could fail to “catch a sleep”.
They use mixtures of inducements,
To coax passing experiences
Of sleep!
As soon as “I hit the sack”,
I do fall fast asleep.
I was made to understand,
One can “sleep like a log”.
Not to “over-sleep”,
With challenges to “sleep on”.
For example,
Responsibilities to children,
Our women and our men,
Who often “loose” their sleep;
To keep trust and give dues
To whom they are rightly due,
Will make it wrong “to go to sleep”.
Were “sleeping giants” to awake,
Things may be done without slip.
Nobody needs to “loose sleep”,
With Justice, equity and fair-play,
With He who forever never sleeps,
We can “do things in our sleep”.

Monday, 6 February 2017


Respect they who live with infirmities,
including poverty and inequities,
caused by sleaze, misrule and plagues,
those with disease who can hardly ‘breath’,
those with faulty limbs or with none at all.
I do not infer those who fall,
In the abyss of poverty that is tyranny,
custodians of greed and debauchery.
I do not surmise maladies induced by mischief,
that will forever remain a source of grief,
And a burden with no immediate relief.

I mean those whose lives are put on line
of life’s battle field infested with mines.
Struggling for normal lives,
often held by ‘sticks’ and ‘knives’.
Yet they move on in tranquillity,
Bearing deprivations with equanimity.
Most think they bear no pains,
since they entreat not anyone for aids.
They own everything as they seek to find,
Peace as strength for their body and mind.
Better being calm than going wild.

They project greatness of intention,
Not to dirge over their condition,
But strive for lawful sustenance,
within what their ability could countenance.
‘My condition’, they say, ‘is but a test,
to make me great of character and grace’.
Those may be physically malformed,
but we are morally deformed.
They do little in the positive way,
We do more but in disarray
So we are continually entrapped in rage,

We are well formed in physique and health,
And basking in unlimited wealth,
With jobs and wages well ahead of the rest,
We build appetite for all that is best,
But we grumble and look sideways always,
following ways to circumvent decent ways.
We impose, on our fellows, awful situations,
Yet block their chances of getting solutions.
Those hardly get what to cover their head,
They eat just in order to forge ahead,
and hopefully put their minds at ease,

We eat and belch without shame.
We feel not to share in the blame.
Our bloated guts and sleaze,
Appear as eloquent symbols of our greed.
Is big necessary though it engenders regrets?
I thought a blessed little could make us great,
And help us to achieve our noble goals,
of developing hearts of gold?
Let’s positive fragrances permeate the air.
Flowers of sympathy should stand clear,
to make mercy our goal and charted sphere.

Saturday, 29 October 2016


Does it come to logic to make your benefactor
the subject of your inveterate antipathy?
Yet you compare unfavourably to its
capacity for resilience and benevolence,
and to its integrity.
Why would rancour substitute gratitude,
against the source of your privileges?
At a check:
It’s the platform for your existence,
your advocate from the cradle,
pipe to your sustenance,
the reason why you can speak,
why you are heard,
the bough that shares in your burdens.
At another check:
Of what value is a malignant
reproachful disposition,
but a precursor to ill health?
May gratitude lighten up your burdens.
Humanity as a contextual entity
criss-crosses tedious milieus,
whereupon its identity is defined.
Wouldn’t life locate challenges and.
through the trials,
delineate and offer solutions,
using knowledge and skills,
to move society to agreeable heights?
At a further check:
When last did you check
the myriad of belligerences you visited
on your neighbours and compatriots?
Do you care?
Do you contribute even a dime of your earnings
to the commonwealth,
from which services go out to the society?
You think society operates off our collective sweat?
Mind and mend your ways!

Tuesday, 27 September 2016

Before the sun sets

Me-thinks financial auditing scrutinises records
and identify, for criticism, moot marks of non-accountability.
Eloquent integrity in both character and professionalism.
So nought is expended save for the tone of their composition.
I offer to be corrected but,
Is he an auditor who at the onset of his trade declares:
“And, hither, I received no welcome! 
“No banquet, nor lunch and,
As I see, no dinner will be served?”
As he pleads for pecuniary inducement
From his subjects of audit?
He checks not the accounts,
Nor for authorities to incur expenditure.
But, for piggishness and greed,
He seeks to okay the books for a price,
After all, he assumes,
Public service is boulevard for larceny.
His miserable misanthropic character
Mislays his duties to scurvy tricks to extract gratification.
What becomes of public trust?
Must we go forth pillaging, with toothsome delight,
the honour of this country?
Are we truly those who pledged
To serve this country:
“With all my strength
And defend her honour and glory?”
Do we think of the repercussions?
Won’t things scurry, if the sun sets,
Towards an assured precipice?
Come on dear Compatriots!!!
Transform, to the service and honour of this country,
Your scummy energy for these distasteful indulgences,
And believe me,
The BRICS would be but economies
heard of far behind our hind legs.