Solitaire
Posted by: A Srikanth on: July 30, 2009
- In: English| Poem| poetry| self realisation
- 7 Comments
As I looked out of the window
A new girl was brought in.
She had tawny little eyes
And was pale and thin.
She was assigned my room mate
By the lady of the orphanage.
About each other we queried
When she gathered enough courage.
She had lost her parents
To a car crash.
While she was timid and polite,
I was noisy and brash.
Yet developed a friendship
So strong, yet peculiar.
Every night we’d swear
To be best friends forever.
While I stole food from the larder
And ordered people around.
She’d help, clean and work
Without fret and frown.
She’d reprimand my errs,
And cover up my follies,
Offer a shoulder to cry on
Or wipe away my worries.
She was a friend when I was upset,
A parent when I was naughty,
A sister to share my thoughts,
And a preacher when I was haughty.
There was a little store
Near the orphanage
That displayed on its windows
A beautiful necklace.
We’d gawk at the sight
Of the sleek golden thread
Wrapping around like a snake
A single large diamond.
Someday, we swore,
To own a replica each.
As a mark of our friendship,
The chain would furnish.
As years passed by,
Closer we had grown.
Soon we were old enough
To live on our own.
She found a job as a seamstress
So mellow and drab.
I fitted well in the business,
Using my cunning and wile.
She’d try to question my actions
And throw light on my sleaze.
About her struggle for survival
I’d constantly tease.
We saved every dime
With a single mind,
Till we bought the necklaces,
Two of the same kind.
As I grew richer,
My friend remained poor.
Slowly, but unknowingly,
We started drifting afar.
Young and popular,
I was the centre of attention.
Like moth to a candle,
I drew people into my illusion.
New friends I made,
As I rode up the ladder.
A huge fan following
I slowly began to gather.
I was ashamed of my friend
And her poverty.
Instead of offering support
I made her my employee.
A vixen I became
With no morals or virtue.
When my friend tried to correct me
I misinterpreted it as spite.
A fierce quarrel ensued
That lacked dignity or grace.
Swearing never to meet again
We walked our separate ways.
Before long I was arrested
For my corrupt ways.
Unperturbed, I was sure
I’d be out within days.
My ill-amassed wealth
Was taken away from me.
And returned to the wronged
In accordance to the decree.
I put all my faith
On my rich successful friends.
Who wouldn’t bear to see me
In such sordid conditions.
The media had a frenzy
Blemishing my name.
Suddenly I was the subject
Of magnitudes of ill-fame.
People forgot my success
But remembered my sins.
I was suddenly very alone,
No kith, no kin.
As days rolled by
My hope diminished.
For a glimpse of the free sky
I sincerely wished.
One day they said
I was free to go.
As I walked out
My friend stood by the door.
Among my belongings
Was my golden chain.
My eyes immediately wandered
To find its twin.
She’d sold her necklace
My freedom was its price.
Even at turbulent times
Her friendship survived.
We hugged each other
Forgetting all the mayhem.
Her eyes looked questioningly
As I priced away the gem.
I explained to her,
As I slipped on the neckwear.
‘I don’t need the diamond,
‘cause you are my Solitaire.’
Stance in the vicious world
Posted by: A Srikanth on: May 18, 2009
My childhood was regular
Like any other child.
Swinging from trees
And playing in the wild.
My mother was my mentor
My mother was my guide.
Her eyes were filled
With kindness and pride.
One black gruesome day,
While hunting for food,
Suddenly she fell dead
And was covered in blood.
I raced to my mother
And shook her like an imp.
But her face was ashen
And her body, limp.
As if out of nowhere
Two strangers appeared.
They held me by my neck
As I shrunk away with fear.
They beat me with sticks
And taunted me with fire.
They made me dance
And jump through tires.
They locked me away
In a lifeless metal cage.
Showing no mercy
For tears or rage.
One day they decided
That I was ready.
To be produced to a crowd
And make them merry.
One bright sunny day
A little girl gazed
Into my cage
With eyes that were dazed.
Her eyes were kind
Just like my mother.
She wanted to know
If she could take me with her.
She would visit me everyday
And bring me goodies.
She would play with me.
She would sing me to sleep.
Finally I had faith
On goodness in the world.
I believed in my savior
As our friendship unfurled.
One fine day,
She never came back.
That’s when I understood
Her father’s remark.
‘Meant to entertain,
Not take home with us.’
I was after all,
Just a monkey in the circus.
The masterpiece
Posted by: A Srikanth on: May 4, 2009
- In: English| poetry| tragedy
- Leave a Comment
To a rusty little village
Arrived two friends.
Artists by profession,
Struggled to meet ends.
They found a little apartment,
So gloomy and drab.
Four weak walls supported
A wooden roof slab.
The apartment belonged
To an old wrinkled man.
No one knew his age-
Probably the oldest in the land.
An artist too he said he was,
Waiting to paint his masterpiece.
Till then he swore
His breath would never cease.
One cold rainy day
One of the friends fell ill.
What was presumed to be a cold
Turned out to be the pneumonia devil.
With no money to spare,
A doctor was a distant thought.
For life everyday,
She bravely fought.
Prepped against the window
She saw this maple tree.
Standing tall with its canopy
And fighting the cold breeze.
Silently she observed
The tree losing its battle.
As one by one the leaves fell
And piled in a bundle.
With the falling leaves
Her hopes began to fall.
She believed she could hear
The dreaded death call.
She believed the tree was a sign
That her last hour approached.
A single leaf hung low
Indicating that the end encroached.
She bid farewell to her friend
When she brought her hot soup.
She told her the story
Of the leaves and the devil’s coup.
Saddened by her story
Her friend ran out of the house
And returned late that night
To find her drowsed.
The next morning she awoke
Ready to surrender her life.
As would have the sole leaf
After a stormy night’s strife.
To her wonder she saw
The leaf held tight.
Firm not to give up
Without a well-deserved fight.
With the strength of the leaf,
Grew her determination.
She called out to her friend
And requested fresh soup.
Three days later
She was back on her feet.
After a month long struggle
The disease she did defeat.
She was surprised to see
Her friend wipe away a tear.
The reason for this sadness
She flinched to hear.
The old man, she found out,
From pneumonia, had passed on.
What about his art
To her friend she questioned.
Her friend silently escorted
Her to the masterpiece.
Propped up against the maple tree
Was a life-like maple leaf.
The Eternal Light
Posted by: A Srikanth on: February 20, 2009
I think back about the time
When work enveloped my youth.
Perpetual happiness, I believed,
Was synonymous to wealth.
For money could buy land
Money could buy jewels
And if you had enough,
Money could buy oil-wells!
People always told me
The rich have the richest cars.
So I decided to get myself
A gold-tinted hearse.
In a week I grew bored
Of my new toy.
In search of happiness
I thought of a new ploy.
I envisaged all I wanted
Was the perfect house.
So with great care and design
I spent millions without grouse.
I was proud of myself
For I had found the road to bliss.
As I glided from room to room
Something seemed amiss.
Unaware of what I wanted
I was ill at ease.
Squirmy and anxious,
My sleep did cease.
I knew not how to find
The ultimate gratification.
I wondered on the words
Elation and satisfaction.
Summer gave way
To a heavy slushy rain.
From a dry stance in my car
I saw this puppy in the drain.
His bones jutted out
As if he was starved.
His leg seemed broken
And an ear, carved.
He was ungroomed
And covered in filth
Of mud washed away
From the nearby tilth.
What a pitiable state!
He clearly was poor
And from what I could see,
Totally uncared for.
Yet, he seemed joyous,
As he bounced up and down.
His face radiated an aura,
No smirk, no frown.
I sat back and thought
Of how the poor could be happy.
That’s when I realized
There was more to life than money.
I got out of my car
Drenching my expensive suit.
I let the rain soak me
And wash away my prejudice.
I looked up at the sky,
And let the rain beat my face.
Clear-headed, I found the calm-
My quest of several days.
As I closed my eyes,
I finally got sight.
From my heart and soul
Emanated the Eternal Light.
Memoirs of Miserie
Posted by: A Srikanth on: November 21, 2008
- In: Poem
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As I closed my eyes
Nearer the heavens drew.
I sit back on my easy-chair
And see life sail through.
Born in rich affluence
I never did a chore.
The only lass to my parents,
Me, they did adore.
I was served breakfast at bed,
And waited on at dinner tables.
I was tutored privately
On pharaohs and Fables.
Soon this dreamy life
Would crash before my eyes.
For the fall of the business
Took my parents’ lives.
Suddenly alone and terrified,
I was lost with no clue.
All left of my family fortune
Was heaps of bills and dues.
My house my dolls
My swings my slides
Were snatched away
In ferocious tides.
I was thrown into a foster home
To work for my food.
Stale bread was lunch,
And dinner was stewed.
When I could take it no more,
I decided to break free.
For I was sure
There was a world waiting for me.
More alone than before,
I walked aimlessly around.
In search of sustenance
New ideas I began to propound.
There was this dingy chantey
By the sea shore.
Where they let me work
For hours galore.
I sang away my miseries,
I sang away my woe.
As I served food to people
Or kneaded fresh dough.
One day he came,
As if out of thin air.
A singer, someday he’d make me,
He’d solemnly swear.
His determination, my voice
Seemed to fit well.
Slowly in his charm
I succumbed and fell.
We worked hard and harder
Till success could escape no more.
With flying colors we won
Through the skies we’d soar.
When any radio sang
It only sang my voice.
Now an established singer,
I could sit back and rejoice.
In a grand white dress,
I walked down the aisle
To his outstretched arms,
And eyes that smiled.
Three children I bore him
Two boys and a girl.
Wrapped in our little kingdom
Around us the world swirled.
We did everything we could
To be together and merry.
As years rolled by
Life seemed serene.
Suddenly there was war
And my sons were taken away.
For news of them
We’d wait night and day.
And when news finally came
It was so wretched
A lost limb would have hurt lesser
Than the news of my son’s death.
Tragedy after tragedy
One by one befell
With both the young pillars gone
Our family slowly shriveled.
Soon came the day
That our daughter found her love.
Planning her marriage
Was all we could do now.
As he gave her away,
Like every father, he cried.
Later, as we danced in the party,
In my arms, he died.
After four decades,
Again I stood alone.
A full life behind me,
I was ready to be gone.
I hear not the world,
But the voices in my head.
Of all who I loved,
Of all who were dead.
As I closed my eyes
Nearer the heavens drew.
I sit back on my easy-chair
And wait for life to sail through.
Faith
Posted by: A Srikanth on: September 16, 2008
A child who is afraid,
May shed a few tears
Till his mother’s embrace
Shuns away his fears.
A confused adolescent
May brood for a while.
Until he sees
The warmth of his lover’s smile.
Having sent her husband to sea,
A timid wife,
Hangs to his word of return,
And awaits all her life.
The death of his spouse
Killed his zest and determination.
Till, to the rescue,
Came his wife’s apparition.
When all seems lost,
Your family stands by you.
Through thick and thin,
They see you through.
A silent prayer
Is all some people need
To face new thorns
That, in their life, has set seed.
A mother’s hug, A lover’s leer,
A husband’s promise, A wife’s wraith.
A family’s vote, A devotee’s belief
Are all merely signs of Faith.
Success
Posted by: A Srikanth on: September 14, 2008
- In: Poem
- 2 Comments
When the entire world ran
I also ran along
Without stopping to think
What was right and what was wrong.
I wanted to succeed
But never cared how.
Full returns I’d seek
For whatever I’d endow.
People were mere steps
On my ladder of success.
I cared not for their feelings,
Anxieties or distress.
Everything was a race
A competition I had to win.
I sincerely believed
That failure was a sin.
Very soon my family
Was a mere illusion
‘Cause they had no role
On the stage of my ambitions.
I surrounded myself with friends
Who thought like me
Through their greedy eyes
The world, I began to see.
I revered my friends
Who showed me the light
To great power and triumph
Of such colossal might.
Little did I know
That I was a paltry step
A puppet to toy with
In their race to success.
Broken and destroyed
They left me high and dry.
I was shattered beyond recovery
No matter how hard I’d try.
A recluse I became
Shutting out the world.
Licking my wounds
By myself I curled.
For those who I had wronged
I felt great remorse.
Ashamed of myself
I was filled with self-loath.
Along came my family
At this hour of need.
For their care and concern
I never had to plead.
They had no regard
For my amassed wealth
Their only true concern
Was to nurse me to health.
They taught me to enjoy
The green of the trees
The song of the birds
And the laughter of the breeze.
Never in my life
Had I felt so much calm.
I realised there can be life
Without chaos and alarm.
I learnt to sit back
And live life as it should be.
With love, care and affection
I became a new me.
Enlightened in life,
Here I confess
How I learnt
The true meaning of success.
Void
Posted by: A Srikanth on: September 6, 2008
- In: Poem
- Leave a Comment
A shawl over the backrest, 
A fire ready to light
A book on the table,
On the chair my Grandma’d wait.
As I returned from my play
She’d spring up with delight
And serve hot supper
And tell stories into the night.
I grew up under her care
And constant supervision.
Back then all I wished for
Was to realize my ambition.
So I spread my wings
And ran away
Leaving back the meadows
And my Grandma astray.
I wanted to achieve
I wanted a life
Without grudge and redemption
I started my strife.
I forgot my Grandma
Now crippled to the knee
For now my entire life
Was just about me.
I thought I’d achieved
Everything I’d craved
Yet at night,
No tear would be saved.
I looked back longingly
At those nostalgic days of yore
Of time with my Grandma
I yearned for more.
So ten years later
I trudge up the meadow
Quickening my pace
As I reach my Grandma’s bungalow.
A shawl over the backrest,
A fire ready to light
A book on the table,
On the chair – A void.
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