Roller coaster days are gone.
What thrill it was to ride some.
When you weigh the pros and cons-
you sense - best is yet to come.
As you stand at a crossroads,
savour those moments and hum,
memories discard and hoard-
you trust - best is yet to come.
And the chords of the soul strum-
you know best is yet to come.
Your words do not match the tune.
An offbeat smile on the face.
How long can you be immune,
and let the soul not surface?
Why do you so camouflage,
and withdraw into your shell?
For I know you by and large,
and I am under your spell.
Memories throb and riot -
even though you are quiet.
I sometimes see her sitting in a park.
At times I see her working with vigour.
I often sense her walking in the dark.
But she is gone yet her presence lingers.
Memories spring up from those old pictures
with her undeterred smile full of pleasure.
They tell me I have her calming features-
I’m proud that is how I am measured.
Many a times I go to bed early
for I know she will appear in my dreams.
That is where I can chat with her surely,
and feel life is not as bad as it seems.
I long for her blessings on my birthdays.
To see her often I seek different ways.
One morning he did not stir
She was gone, and all was blur.
So many years together-
in a hurry to meet her.
Elephants can find water.
Dogs take a leak on the tyres.
Funny whiskers of otters.
And the birds swing on the wires.
The monkeys relish the lice.
Dolphins click and dangers warn.
The cats are blessed with nine lives.
And turtles seem to live on.
Painful rats can withstand pain.
Lions flaunt their royal mane.
Just before we took a dip,
the doctor would summon us.
Calm and cool, quick with a quip,
brought back smiles lost in our rush.
Humour was our daily fuel-
snippets and his anecdotes.
Then we would walk to the pool
along with his dose of quotes.
I wish he comes back to swim-
water rolls and beckons him.
Tongue rattles with its own sound.
Silence thinks it is supreme.
The eyes express and expound,
and thoughts whisper in your dream.
Hands speak with their sweet old sign.
Nose flares displaying dissent.
A smile can console a whine.
And rare, the language of scent.
The soul sighs or sometimes yells.
Tears' tune is universal.
