CALM DOWN, RESPECT AND DON'T SHOUT

Do fairy tales truly exist?

I sometimes wonder about this.

It's not something logical to think about.

But thinking like a child is a bliss.

Though imagination flows incessantly,

I won't compare it with air or water.

To some extent, they both can be cooped up.

However, imagination has no stopper.

You may say," Mind is its container."

I ask, "Why imagination increases in quantity then?"

Well! Either mind is a unique container

Or there is something special about imagination.

When it seems improbable or impossible,

We give it a term called 'fantasy'.

Haha! If we don't get something straightway,

We don't consider it to be a reality.

Ohh! This sounds like some dumb debate.

But I do have a point to be noted here.

It's not about 'fairy tales','imagination' or 'fantasy'.

It's about respecting the vivid thoughts that people share.

So, fairy tales may or may not exist.

I think it's simply not to worry about.

To find meaning in everything is not always essential.

So, calm down, respect and don't shout.

-----------------------------------------------------©Radhika Gupta(September 16,2018)

FAILURE HURTS

It is certainly some nightmare

That wants you to be aware

That you surely need to stop and stare

The small things of life layer by layer.

It's like getting a terrible electric shock.

You know you have something but unable to rock.

It's arduous to tread the new path block by block

When you feel that everyone is there to mock.

It is a pus that bestows an unbearable pain.

Day by day it simply becomes hard to regain

The sanity that is required to peacefully sustain

In this worldly realm and to have less strain.

It is as if some vehicle rashly runs into you.

And you are dead before you think to do

Something so that your life may continue.

Alas! There is hardly anyone at your rescue.

It is as if you are suffering from deep burns within.

You constantly feel that you have committed some sin.

You surrender yourself to your traumatic chagrin.

Gradually, this becomes your so-called daily routine.

I know the above comparisons seem eerie.

But truly failures fall on us like a catastrophe.

It never matters whether we are free or busy

To accept these failures in life's journey.

People may say," Failures are stepping stones to success."

But they will be the first ones to laugh at your helplessness.

And if perchance some day you progress,

They will again blow their fife of "Failures ...to success".

But listening such quotes hardly matters

When the courage within deeply shatters

And our reputation simply gets in tatters.

Failure makes us forget our manners.

I am not here to preach some thought

About failures, seclusion or becoming rot.

We all have our own failure to think about

And our own ways to remove the failure blot.

And those who have been lucky enough

That they never faced any failure so rough.

For them, I say," Salute to you but don't rebuff

Those failures who have experienced so tough.

Who knows one day you may need their advice?

You never know when life may give a surprise.

You have your own brain to self-analyse.

It's just that failure hurts and not all failures are unwise."

---------------------------------------------------------©Radhika Gupta(August 23,2018)

THE TRAIN AND ME ( 1 )

That day was about the train and me.

My mind completely went awry.

I didn't think what would follow next.

I didn't know what would be the best.

"DREAMS". Oh! I had forgotten them.

Was it some sort of absenteeism?

Maybe I was right and maybe not.

I looked calm but my mind did shout.

It was compelling for exploring more.

But I was destined to land at platform number four.

What if I had chosen not to land there?

What if I had decided to move elsewhere?

It would have been a new adventure.

Maybe not with much pleasure or splendour.

At least I would have been free.

Away from what all expect from me.

Away from parameters of success and failure.

Away from faces that just seem familiar.

But plans shifted when I looked outside the window.

There was a peacock dancing as if saying "Hello".

It was surrounded with greenery and babies.

But the young ones were of some other species.

Any other peacock was not to be seen.

My senses were indulged in observing this scene.

The peacock was alone in a way yet comfortable.

Unlike my mind, it was absolutely stable.

It was cherishing the present moment and dancing

As if teaching me the art of self-romancing.

It's not bad to be unique or judged everywhere.

Neither it's bad to wish for a change of air.

Life's train will keep on moving with certain halts.

On our journey, we may face some jolts.

What matters the most is rejoicing like that peacock.

Even if we are unable to rock or suffering from a shock.

Haha! To fulfil our duties when we can't think any more,

It's sometimes better to land at platform number four.

---------------------------------------------------------©Radhika Gupta(August 19,2018)

STRANGER TURNED CHAT FRIEND

I chatted with a stranger that day.

Was it a mistake that I did?

I don't know what came over me that day.

I still think I was completely stupid.

Earlier, I had some principles.

I broke them on my own.

Though they were my own rules

Yet they were simply blown.

It was absolutely strange for me

That I was doing something like that.

Some intellectuals will probably say,

"What's a big deal in having a normal chat?"

Well! When something is done for the first time,

Things are certainly different for the doer.

Moreover, he was totally unknown.

For me, he was just a stranger.

Now, don't look at me with contempt and scorn

For chatting with someone whom I never knew.

Even if for once in a lifetime, at that moment,

I wholeheartedly wanted to commit a mistake too.

Haha! My whole life has been a rule-dictionary.

I was surely a good rule-following girl.

I still don't know if it was the goodness in me

Or some obscure fear of a high level.

Fear was somewhat less.

It was respect for elders that I had.

For any dreary mistake of mine,

I didn't want them to get mad or sad.

So, I decided to restrain my playfulness

To avoid the company of bad children.

But somewhere deep inside my pure soul,

There was always a whimsical child hidden.

I devoted myself just to my studies

To stay away from futile distractions.

Anything else hardly mattered to me.

I was far away from fashion or shitty attractions.

Oh!When you get habitual of repeating something,

You tend to become what you practice.

My face and personality seemed sombre.

I turned into a good con artist, I guess.

Now, when I ponder upon those vague chats,

I don't see them as some horrible mistake.

But, always at the back of my mind,

The memories of past incessantly ache.

This stranger seems a good friend now.

I hope this friendship never changes.

I don't expect anything else from him.

I hope he respects friendship's ranges.

God forbid if he fails in keeping this friendship,

I will consider it to be my first jolly mistake.

I know I will be dejected and forlorn for a while.

At least I will be content for not being fake.

I won't be meeting this stranger ever in my life

For it was one of my conditions to be his friend.

I genuinely don't wish for any chaos anymore.

I am happy being just a "STRANGER TURNED CHAT FRIEND".

--------------------------------------------------------------------------©Radhika Gupta(August 5,2018)

CYCLING THAT MORNING

Cycling that morning

Made me feel complete.

Its pleasure was much more than

Living in some lavish suite.

It seemed as if my nerves

Were dancing from within.

The road was all empty

And I felt like its queen.

It made me recall everything

That was but merely past.

Both sweet and sour memories

Struck my mind really fast.

But it also made me cherish

The moment I was living in.

The poor past began to fade away.

As I began feeling the joy of being pristine.

There were certain tunes in my mind

That elated my heart's beating.

But they were absolutely futile

In comparison to the birds' twittering.

No horns or cars were there.

Everything seemed serene.

No shouting, scolding or arguing.

The world appeared green and clean.

I had heard once that

Green is the colour of jealousy.

Haha! Now, I laugh at this thought.

For me, green proved to be a remedy.

Maybe it's just about perceptions

That engross our mind from time to time.

Depending on the path we choose,

The same thing can be either sullen or sublime.

It was an exhilaration for me.

I don't want to leave it again.

Devoting some time to cycling

Made me forget all pain.

It was lime and salt

For my rusted personality.

Maybe this is what is

Cycling's speciality

 ---------------------------------------------------------©Radhika Gupta(June26,2018)

MISS MINA

Miss Mina lost her most lovely temper

When scolded by a family member.

The relative called her clumsy.

She said," No one loves me."

Then, she heard the words of her father.

"My daughter looks ugly.

She looks stout and clumsy.

But, she has a heart of gold.

She is truly brave and bold.

Her simplicity is her beauty.

When no one stood by me,

Her faith in me was plenty.

She understood things beyond her age.

She never made any money wastage

Unlike those who spend frivolously.

She works hard constantly

Avoiding any bad company.

Is it easy to control teenage emotions?

But she shuns any stupid affections.

I am proud of her audacity.

When sometimes I watch her studying,

I am completely left just wondering

If I had also done the same labour.

But, even I never tried to seize the hour.

Her willpower is simply mesmerizing.

Many a time when she felt hungry,

She either didn't eat or ate homemade curry.

When her friends ate delicious street foods,

She dominated her taste moods.

I don't remember her enjoying any luxury.

She is clumsy by her choice

For she doesn't wish to raise her voice

In front of fools whom she respects.

The harshness in you she easily detects.

But she never makes any noise.

Oh! Constant hitting can cut any rock.

For me, her sudden outburst isn't a shock.

There is a limit of meaningless scolding.

After a point, mean things start to sting.

She is a human, not a still wall clock.

If you still have some self-respect,

Then your words, you should wisely select.

Don't  you dare to mock her again

Or else my anger I won't restrain.

The beauty within her is just perfect."

Miss Mina's eyes were filled with tears.

She had not been given any praises for years.

She said," Thank You, dear father.

Your words have made me stronger.

Hearing such words is a boon for my ears.

I am lucky enough to have you.

Under your guidance, I grew.

But today, in a way I let you down.

I failed in handling their frown.

I am just insane in my view."

I was standing at a distance and saw this scene.
I felt as if it has become people's daily routine
To judge others by their appearances.
Is it what we mean by coexistence?
Are these our etiquettes and discipline?

They say,"Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder."

In reality, for external beauty, their souls smoulder. 

Maybe they are just another bunch of hypocrites

Who believe people like Miss Mina to be misfits.
 Perhaps we all are merely turning into living monsters.

---------------------------------------------------------©Radhika Gupta(June24,2018)

THEY ARE JUST UNKNOWNS

It's easier to talk to someone unknown.

Maybe some people feel just too alone

When relations are completely blown

And the heart is turned into a mere stone.

Well! Some people may also talk for fun.

They may wish to know the other person.

For some, it's time pass before time's gone.

There may be simply no other reason.

Then there are thinkers and writers

Who may even wish to hear whispers.

For them, life is stories on new matters.

They secretly wish for unique adventures.

There are also those who disguise and talk.

Talking to them may not be a cakewalk.

They may be a grey shaded "Sherlock".

Their true identity may leave us in a shock.

Finally, there are those who don't want to meet.

In real life, you don't wish to give them a greet.

But talking to them feels simply sweet.

There is no involvement of any personal benefit.

You never share much personal information.

You never tell about your house's location.

Away from any so-called temptation,

With an unknown, builds a nameless relation.

You both forever remain incognito.

There is no involvement of the ego.

Basically, you both don't know

If the other one's a crow or psycho.

Haha! The other one may be a fierce Dracula

Who may be living in a ruin crowned by a cupola.

What if it's a conspiracy under some big umbrella?

What if the other one has a pretended aura?

Oh! Just never urge to meet the other.

Even if you urge, then don't just bother.

Stay like an undercovered agent forever.

Then you won't need to fret or become sombre.

Unknowns don't have a preconception about us.

So, we feel that they won't be creating any fuss.

To some extent, the sweetness may be harmless.

But, an excess of sweets may harm our fitness.

It's better to save our lives that is more precious.

Technology may have gifted us alluring unknowns.

Most of us have them on laptops or smartphones.

Talking to them may be easy or convenient.

Talking may also be a source of entertainment.

However, at the end of the day when you feel they are knowns,

Don't forget that they are just unknowns.

---------------------------------------------------------©Radhika Gupta(June21,2018)

EXPECTATIONS

Expectations are what kill us.

In our life, they cause a ruckus.

They are like the tip of a compass

That just constantly pins inside us.

There is a cycle of expectations.

Its vicious circle continues for generations.

We all ride this cycle amidst commotions.

The riding may have different notions.

Oh! This is a long cycle, dear.

This cycle is quite unclear.

Trying to understand it, is queer.

But, I will try to express without fear.

Let's start with our birth,

When everything is joy and mirth.

We are unaware of our worth.

But, expectations are ample on earth.

Some expect a girl, while others a boy.

Unknowingly some plan to destroy

The freedom that may give the child joy.

However, life is not just a simple toy.

The teacher expects a good student.

Students expect a better teacher.

Is expecting enough to be prudent?

Well! Expecting is a common feature.

When we grow up further,

They say,"Just be a good learner.

CA, Doctor or Engineer?

Right now, it doesn't matter."

We get overwhelmed and feel free.

Maybe we don't know of the future decree

That may fall on us like a big old tree.

We develop self- expectations to forever glee.

We work day and night for achieving goals.

To fulfil our expectations, we drench our souls.

But on our way, someone else takes controls.

The goals once dreamt of turn to mere potholes.

Those who gave us fake freedom once

Now, start calling us a dunce.

Our expectations undergo a deep silence.

Their expectations gift us an inner turbulence.

Both ways there are expectations.

One side ours, another side theirs.

There are emotional variations.

But for us, both ways, there are tears.

Weeping and crying our expectations change.

For them, we try to go beyond our range.

For us, a new plan we try to arrange.

The new expectations seem quite strange.

One more fight now, we wish to conquer.

Old expectations no more remain stronger.

Upon upcoming troubles, we hardly ponder.

These expectations leave us all sombre.

Gradually, even we start loving fresh expectations.

We submerge ourselves into deep calculations.

Now, we expect a better result in our operations.

In a mad rat race, we skip our prime considerations.

Life turns to mere ranks, promotions and figures.

Day by day, a new expectation within us triggers.

Anything already achieved, now hardly matters.

We start worrying about a handful of failures.

Then one day, we find someone whom we love.

Even here, our expectations soar high above.

On rejection, we become a crestfallen dove.

Now, we expect even others to despise love.

Wait! The vicious circle doesn't end just here.

In marriages, expectations act like a spear

That can brutally and easily rip apart and tear

The healthy relationship between the pair.

We expect from parents and from friends.

We expect from the societal ways and trends.

In our offspring's life, we wish to make amends.

Again riding this stupid cycle starts making sense.

Even on the verge of death, we just expect

That matters ere doom should be made perfect.

We expect that we will get some respect.

Oh! Our expectations and the facts hardly connect.

Some father dies expecting his son to see him.

Some son dies expecting his father will know him.

Some mother dies as an expectation's victim.

Some daughter dies of expectations so grim.

Some husband dies expecting his wife to love him.

Some wife dies expecting love like a dream.

Some hopes die expecting one day to gleam.

Haha! We all enter, live and leave just expecting.

Like a deadly disease, expectations stick to us.

They are boons rarely but mostly a curse.

I don't think that I can further discuss

Because I sincerely don't expect a fuss.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------©Radhika Gupta(July19,2018)

HER WOEFUL TALE

She sauntered with unknown grief,

Importuning Him to retort in brief

If His presence was there or none

For the traitors had sucked her dry anon.

Whilom she sang the psalmodies,

Brimmed with peaceful melodies.

She was brook and life was vale.

Then why did she suffer an assail?

Why was she left all pale?

Was it due to her being a female?

Her defilers ruined her chastity.

All alone she witnessed their alacrity

That stole away her vivacity.

She was forced to suffer a deep agony.

Alas! She was left with no sanity.

Didn't they have any morality?

Is this what we call humanity?

Is it too easy to savage someone's sanctity?

All they cared about was their shitty salacity.

They fooled her so craftily

Hiding their so-called mendacity.

Oh! This is the bitter veracity.

That they were good was her fallacy.

Who knew she would fall prey to their phantasy?

Even assaulting had a systematic trail.

Their cruelty made her frail.

Alas! Again they failed

In becoming an ethical male.

She questioned and even God lost the debate.

But the dreary homo sapiens just couldn't relate

To her incessant suffering, her quest.

They made her subject to a series of an inquest.

The assault became a mere jest.

This was her period of unrest.

Her ravishers were no less than pests.

Gradually, her prowess to fight began to congest.

Forlorn and depressed, she decided to peacefully rest

Into the lap of the brook and vale.

Alas! Again the humanity failed

And all we are left with is a woeful tale.

---------------------------------------------------------©Radhika Gupta(June17,2018)

RASH DRIVING (A calf and a little girl)

A calf and a little girl were talking

Of something that didn't seem shocking.

They were resting in heavenly gardens.

Thanks to someone's rash driving.

The girl said,"Who split your legs and belly?

People call you an animal that's holy.

You might have been cut in a slaughterhouse.

People fight over you. Isn't it a glory?"

"Oh! Don't think that my life was sorted.

To me, people on Earth seemed horrid.

Though they have a religious love for me,

None fought the driver who left me distorted.

Out of a hundred people, a few were kind-hearted.

But most of them wanted things to get disconcerted.

At the slaughterhouse, I was sure to be cut someday.

But suffering on road was more brutal.",the calf retorted.

The girl felt sympathy for the poor animal.

However, her own story was quite identical.

She too perished in a harsh road accident.

In the burning school bus was her funeral.

She said," The day I died was the exam day.

At home, away from school, I wanted to stay.

I prayed to God to keep me away from exams.

Maybe that morning I was my prayer's prey.

The driver seemed strange and his voice slurred.

Maybe due to rains, his driving got absurd.

In a hurry, he ran into a tanker carrying petrol.

How come his vision got so blurred?

The bystanders filmed the whole commotion.

Even media came for the coverage of the situation.

Police, school and parents were also informed.

Alas! None cared for our quick hospitalisation.

There were a few peers who got rescued.

Most of our lives liveliness simply subdued.

Rash driving kills lives on a daily basis.

You and I are just two.", she said in a sad mood.

Being a humble creature the calf said,

"We both are joined by the same thread.

Death may have approached us differently.

But now, in the end, we both are dead."

The girl said,"Dear calf, you speak appropriately.

You were killed on the road brutally

While my life ended inside the bus.

It was simply rash-driving that killed both of us."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------©Radhika Gupta(July14,2018)

THE PETRICHOR

It's the first rain marking the arrival of monsoon.

There is something subtle about the air.

My mother is humming some arbitrary tune.

My soul is indulged in the fresh petrichor.

All have their own worries to think about.

No one has time to slow down and stare

The sky's tears that are so incessantly cast out.

But, my soul is indulged in the sweet petrichor.

I used to see children of the same age playing in the alleys in rain.

However, I never made boats of any colourful paper.

Rain dancing just never made my senses go insane.

Something that I cherished always was the calming petrichor.

Even if I ever wanted to get out and dance madly,

Tales of going sick early always made the dancing scarier.

To reach school, I used to wear the long old raincoat shabbily.

The windows in class freed me more like the gentle petrichor.

Nevertheless, there are people for whom rains sound romantic.
For some, it may be a symbol of a love journey that got over.
Some are also fond of Indian rain myths that are simply fantastic.
But, the charisma of the petrichor excites me more.

When the sky used to cease it's mourning and crying,

It used to turn pure blue for everyone to peacefully share.

But, as time passed by, dear pollution set the sky to be terrifying.

Grievously, now, the Earth hardly remembers its beloved petrichor.

In a few days, it might abruptly rain cats and dogs.

There may be suspended tours and some flooded river.

Lack of food supplies and croaking of political frogs

May devoid me of my indulgence in the deep petrichor.

There are also others who may suffer from this rain.

Who knows there may be some dejected farmer?

Who knows what untimely rain will do of his crops again?

What if all left with him will only be the fragile petrichor?

Rapid deforestation and windstorm may kill some evergreen trees.
People and animals falling in open manholes may die or get sicker.
There may be collapsed bridges and multiple casualties.
Will people anymore love the enchanting petrichor?

There are some places that may suffer a drastic drought.

Some places and people may undergo cloudburst and downpour.

What about the downtrodden whose skin and food may rot?

I hope even under testing times, none neglects the familiar petrichor.

Rain brings with it many questions to ponder upon.
Endless possibilities of answers are always there.

I don't know what this and future rains will bring on.
However, I can never forget the much dear petrichor.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------©Radhika Gupta(July10,2018)

RECOGNIZING OUR REALITY

"People are recognised by their work."

Once, someone proudly told me this.

I never knew then of the worldly jerks.

My life was all happy-go-lucky and bliss.

Then I got aware that it isn't just about work.

Even if you are walking alone without disturbing,

There will always be a few ones who will smirk.

They will surely do the foolish barking and hurting.

You won't be wishing for some stupid fame.

But they will bestow it out of grace on you.

They won't mind illogically tainting your name.

For fun, they will do what they want to do.

If you will go right, they will ask you to go left.

If you will go up, they will ask you to go down.

If you will not choose to go and stay erect,

Then they will nicely gift you the fool's crown.

Neither long hair nor short hair will please them.

Neither a veil nor a short bikini will be correct.

In their opinion even a brilliant human is dumb.

At any cost, they will find in you some defect.

Is it because we are wrong somewhere?

Or is it just because we are different?

Undoubtedly their thinking is not fair.

Maybe they are jealous and belligerent.

Even roses are hated by a few for their thorns.

But it never stops them from being a rose.

Even if you try to mutilate the flower's form,

Its pleasant and subtle essence never goes.

Sweets are loathed by some for being unhealthy.

I say," Did the sweet plead you to eat it?"

But the human norms point the sweets as filthy.

Their own mistakes, they will never admit.

It's not just for once that I experienced this.

There has been a chain of events like that.

It's like forcing you out of a sudden into an abyss.

They will just treat you like a dusty doormat.

The worst part is your lack of worthy retort.

Since they don't want to listen to your boring speech.

But if you will inquire about their speech's purport,

They will blow their so-called democracy fife.

Does democracy mean saying anything to anyone?

Is it a licence to freely blabber and abuse?

They use it like randomly firing a blowgun

Without knowing which hit may turn into a bruise.

How double standard it is! I wonder at times.

People insanely do what they don't expect from us.

They say that they are saints away from crimes.

But the next day, out of tiny stuff they make a fuss.

So, here is a conclusion that I believe in.

Currently, people are not just recognised by their work.

They are also recognised by slanders and backbiting.

Spreading fancy rumours is other's favourite homework.

People are also recognised due to other's sins.

People are recognised due to other's stupidity.

Alas! When such treachery by other's begins,

They fail to realise the death of morality.

However, if they call you a tiny winy cat,
Don't forget that you are a fierce lion.
It's their problem if they are spoiled brats.
Don't make them your problem. Just carry-on.

 Deep within, we can recognise our reality

Because it is what matters the most.

We simply cannot forget our true identity

Accruing to such so-called living ghosts.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------©Radhika Gupta(July10, 2018)

WHAT IS "LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT"?

What is "Love at first sight"?

My mind questions this at times.

Is it some sort of delight?

What are its symptoms or signs?

I really am not aware of it.

Maybe due to my inexperience.

Haha! I thought of it as a shit.

Pardon me 'O lovers' for saying this.

I believe it's like a fresh variety of burger

The craving for which may turn you restless.

You know having it may harm you further.

But your desire for consumption is reckless.

What happens once you munch on it?

The burger remains no more to be seen.

It's taste, your mind just can't omit.

But the next day, you wish for jelly bean.

At first sight, even an antique art is alluring.

What follows once you bring it in your home?

For a few days, you can't stop staring at it.

Then the staring becomes dull and toilsome.

Perhaps it's like aiming hard to win someone.

But once you conquer what you require,

You simply take for granted this fortune.

Now, something else you wish to acquire.

You feel sympathy even for strangers.

You just need to be a human being for that.

Mere sympathising doesn't make you lovers.

Pity can also be aroused by a tiny cat or chat.

Even two workers may share their worries.

It doesn't mean they will serve each other's needs.

You may be sharing all your mundane stories.

Such an obscure feeling into love hardly concretes.

Then there is something called friendship

It may make you think that you love.

It's like sailing together in one ship.

But, dear it's something beyond love.

You may say that it's often seen that

Cute friendships turn into adorable love.

Well! I am not at all against this fact.

But, this rare love should be taken care of.

I don't think I should talk further.

Again pardon me for any mistakes.

I still think 'love at first sight' is a burger.

Haha! You may think of it as grapes.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------©Radhika Gupta(July7, 2018)

YOU SHOULDN'T KILL THE HOPE

Dejected look on her rosy face

Faded the dinner's aroma.

She seemed left in disgrace

Due to someone's brash persona.

The room almost sank in silence.

For a while, none spoke a word.

There was a loss of mind's balance.

But for her gey cells, nothing stirred.

The two birds swapped a look

That appeared quite absurd.

When one of them muttered,

The other's speech sounded slurred.

"How was your job today?", 

asked the lady having soda.

The girl said," Another hard day.

I couldn't achieve the sales quota."

"Is this all I need to know dear?",

Retorted the lady musically.

The girl said,"I love you, mom.

I can't say anything else truly."

The mother smiled radiantly.

She gave a hug to her child.

Even if just for a moment,

The girl's heart turned mild.

Her mild heart softened the eyes

That burst into a ceaseless rain

Of tears that could have flooded the room.

She didn't want to lose her job again.

Mom said,"Oh dear! I know your feelings.

You simply can never hide them.

I don't care for any stupid job.

You are my most precious gem.

People will try to let you down.

It's their devious stratagem.

Don't surrender to any shame crown.

Don't reduce yourself to any contemn.

Hard times will make you strong.

They will disturb you like a tightrope

Shakes a novice equilibrist's aplomb.

But you shouldn't jump from the rope.

'YOU SHOULDN'T KILL THE HOPE'."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------©Radhika Gupta(July5, 2018)

DEAR EYES, WITHIN YOU, PEACE DWELLS

My eyes are writhing with pain,

Still, I don't feel like to sleep.

In this tiny brain of mine,

Only some dreary thoughts can creep.

Will things be more claro?

What will possibly happen tomorrow?

Will I be subject to some sudden blow?

The notes in my mind keep playing legato.

My mind never stops thinking so.

My eyes whole night just keep aglow.

They keep looking the fan above.

What if I am subject to some hefty shove?

I don't know why this happens with me.

Is there some invisible key

That I cannot see?

Probably, it makes me do this stupidity.

It may be some sorrow,

That finds it's way through the eyes.

Or it may be some past

That mocks at me being too wise.

I don't know what it is.

It's sometimes glum, it's sometimes bliss.

Isn't it worry? Sometimes I think so.

Then I shun this thought in one go.

Then I tell my eyes quietly,"Everything's alright.

Just take care of yourselves.

Take rest for a while.

For 'DEAR EYES, WITHIN YOU, PEACE DWELLS'."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------©Radhika Gupta(July1,2018)

WAS IT LOVE OR HATE?

Away from the shackles of the caste system, they eloped.

Since childhood together they had coped

With the varied hardships that life had offered to them.

Most people they knew were willing to condemn

Love of any sort between two different castes.

None knew that both of them were love enthusiasts.

She was a Shudra and he was a pure Brahmin.

People said," There is nothing between them so common."

Together they moved to a distant big city.

This action of theirs could be said quite gritty.

To them, none of their relatives showed any pity.

With them, the two were no more in great propinquity.

Both got married and started living happily.

Six months passed quite peacefully.

Life was nothing but a bed of roses and fantasy.

One afternoon she saw a handsome man.

She merely glanced at him without any devilish plan.

That day got over and came yet another day.

But something about herself was not quite okay.

She prepared the breakfast and left early for work.

She was in office when her waist muscle gave a sudden jerk.

Her boss offered her to take leave.

When she saw his face, she couldn't believe

That he was the same man whom she had seen a day back.
 In a car near the old racetrack.

Wait! He exchanged an eye contact with her.

Was something going on that was truly bitter?

Some colleagues believed that she used to meet him daily.

This meeting used to be really private and hence done secretly.

One day, the husband invited the boss at home.

They became friends with relations as fertile as loam.

"I love you", said this new man to her.

She retorted," Me too but I just cannot deter

The love that I share with my husband.

Let's forget whatever between us has happened."

However, she couldn't resist her lusty self again.

A gush of adrenaline ran through her body's terrain.

Oh! The poor husband discovered what was kept arcane.

Now, on her body and self who would reign?

The hubby said nothing but suffered a deep pain.

He pushed the other man out of his house in the heavy rain.

Out of her nervousness, on the floor she feigned.

When she woke up, she found herself to be internally stained.

Deep inside her heart and body, the other man's name was ingrained.

She was guilty of her activities so unrestrained

But still wanted to continue the new relationship that was unexplained.

She asked her husband to leave her on her own.

However, the husband couldn't condone

Her sudden urge to be with someone else.

His love for her had turned into something more intense.

He persuaded his wife for a few weeks more

To stay with him and let the love to soar.

To his utter dismay, the wife remained adamant.

He became more aggressive in his bafflement.

One day he said," I shouldn't have married you.

What have you done to me? Do you have any clue?"

The wife smiled and said," You were far away from me.

Since we left our town, you never let me free.

If you will call it love and concern, I won't agree.

I needed the long-forgotten love, not the filigree.

When you came back two months later, I got an opportunity.

You started trusting your friend more than me.

Through him, I channelised my way to be free.

You treated me like some material in your possession.

Step into my shoes and tell what you would have done?

Don't beat about the bush. Give some better suggestion."

He replied,

"Dear wife lets conclude that we both were beguiled.

From our lives, true love was exiled.

What's already lost from both sides, cannot be reconciled.

But, dear, I am sorry I cannot remain mild

On seeing that you are giving birth to someone else's child.

I will never let my love for you go futile.

It shall be eternal and worthwhile.

It was my mistake to let you run wild.

But I will punish myself in a way that is restyled.

I will devoid myself of my beloved.

Without you, my life will be vague and vapid.

I am now enough reviled.

Goodbye, my problem child."

The whole room turned into flesh and blood.

I don't think I need to tell the gory aftermath.

Cremation ground, jail, innocent death or unrequited love,

What won and rose above?

The participants met their destined fate.

But a question remained intact.

'WAS IT LOVE OR HATE?'

--------------------------------------------------------------------------©Radhika Gupta(June29,2018)

ADMITTING THE REALITY

"Hey! Bald Man. Funny Bald Man", said the roadside urchin

With innocence on his face and a slight grin.

The bald man just passed a smile.

The urchin pondered," Is it some new style?"

However, the bald man was there not alone.

Along with him was his belligerent son.

The son said,"Hey you urchin change your tone

Or else I will make you moan."

The urchin mocked and showed his tongue

In return of the scolding so young.

"Why don't you chide that moron?",said the son.

The bald man retorted," Just wait! My little one."

Meanwhile, the errant urchin ran away.

The son stood there in utter dismay.

The bald man said,"Son, look at me.

Now, tell me clearly what do you see?"

"I see my father; the man who makes me glee.

What else should be your identity for me?",

replied the son being a little bit annoyed.

For a while, his words created a void.

"Oh! I inquire of you the reality.

Not what for you is my identity.

I am not asking what you think of me.

Just tell me clearly what do you see?",

Exhorted the bald man.

Soon thereafter the son's answer began.

"Father, I see your head is bald.",

said the son in a tone so appalled.

The father said,"Son, I am proud of the urchin who spoke so true.

Now, I am even proud of you.

Though the reality may sound bitter

Yet you will have to accept that.

Life may not always bestow gold and glitter.

I wanted you to learn this fact.

That's why I didn't commit the act

Of rebuking that roadside urchin.

You may call it my secret tact

To save you from any future lurching.

For a peaceful co-existence in the society

Nothing can be better than 'ADMITTING THE REALITY'."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------©Radhika Gupta(June27,2018)