Young Poem World

Eye of the Beholder

“Say, what a waste

These careless fellows I hate

Could’ve use for drawing or making a list”

Says desolately the environmentalist

“How spectacular! Fantabulous it is!

What a delicate piece it is

Dimensionless dot, yet so circle”

Says the artist adjusting her spectacle

“A very realistic depiction I say

Of life and it’s balanced way

In every piece of white there is a portion darker..”

Proclaims in his priestly voice, the philosopher

“Look mummy! It is winking at me

Its one black eye is glaring at me

The paper monster is going wild!”

Shrieks the innocent young child

“That I am sure represents me!

That one lone, sad one is me

Of my life it is a gist”

Wails the very upset pessimist

Now, assuming all saw the same piece

Try conjuring the looks of the piece

Don’t laugh at me when I say it’s a dot

It means many things, this tiny black dot.

The Talk of Learned Fools

Outside the classroom

Scholar One bumped into Scholar Two

Each to prove the worth of his

Challenges the other to a quiz

(Scholar1) I am certain ‘j’ is next to ‘d’

(Scholare2) Hardly! ‘z’ comes after ‘d’

You definitely can’t deny me

I read it in Alphabets Chapter Three

(Scholar2) Now, I say fish lives on land

And wriggles on the coarse sand

(Scholar1) In your sweet dreams!

Fishes fly with fins and live on trees

(Scholar1) If thee doesn’t know this,

I am sure you don’t know lions eat fish

(Scholar 2) Now, that I’ve never heard

Lions eat only nuts, just like every bird

(Scholar2) Ha! Should you I teach that dosa,

Is made by dissolving Maggi in water

(Scholar1) Certainly you are trying to fool me

I know dosa is made by mixing Maggi with oil.

What would you do?

With such learned fools?

Who learn for the sake of exams

And forget them on the morrow.

Game of Stories

Have you heard of this tale?

Of a boy who would tell only stories

And how slyly he was defeated

In his very own stories by his mother

Rahul, where is the money I gave you?

The Rs 30 balance got used in buying 5 Rs 5 peas

Rahul, where then, are the peas?

The peas fell down and grew into trees.

Where is the coconut I asked for?

On the way, I ate it

Where are the chilies?

A caged parrot took them and flew away.

Then where is the bag I gave?

A hungry dog came and ate it full.

Where is the bill, son?

The bill went with the bag.

His eyes reflecting zeal, Rahul asked

“Mummy, where is my cake?”

“Oh! The neighbor’s fish gulped it whole!

This is your reward for telling stories.”

Cake Joy

Wouldn’t it be interesting to bake

With loads of care and icing a cake

Imagine the very detailed process

How long, I will let you guess

First, take a sheet of paper and pen

Design your desired cake then

Fill it with a rainbow of colours

After all this is yours.

Throw in the eggs and beat till fluffy

Add in the sugared flour, stir till puffy

Pour in the batter, but don’t fill the mould

Place in the oven, bake till its gold.

Mix the colours with the cream

Of the various shades that you can dream

Next, take the base and level your cake

To what you speculate to be the perfect shape

Then, place the base on a cake bowl

On a turn table place this bowl

Slather the rich cream generously

Spread it with a spatula evenly

With piping tips and couplers

Sit decorating it for maybe…hours

Draw a fountain or a glade

Then look back and edit what you made

But don’t eat it when it is done

Share it with those who have none

Whose joys will know no bounds

And this will warm your heart

With the joy of helping, sharing and caring

Childhood Days

How wonderful would it be?

Leading life free

From the sickness of worry

And the never ending worry of thievery

This is what childhood offers

Freedom from responsibility and fears

To lead life with a carefree mind

Tell me, how often would this you find?

They look, their innocent eyes shining bright

Radiating happiness with that light

The mixture of joy, sorrow, love surrounding them

At every moment of time helping them

But childish children as we were then

We asked, “I will grow up but when?”

Blind to the bliss gifted to us

We wanted to grow up, silly us!

Oh! How golden are the pages of youth

Filled with joys of our childhood

Now, if you ask me I will say,

“I wish I could prolong those days”

The Second Independence!

English Hunter

How funny, you think English could be?

I challenge you to try and see

Start with simple nouns, I tell you

By end, my words will be found true

Still have a doubt? Then read this.

Not even one should you miss.

Think, plural of foot is feet

Then why not plural of root be reet?

If simple past of sit is sat

Is simple past of fit, fat?

Similarly if feel is to felt

Surely, peel is to pelt?

Continuing with tenses, win is to won

I demand that spin is to spon

If you say shake is to shook

I say, “why not bake is to book?”

Adjective form of noise is noisy

Then surely peace must be peacy

Moving to opposites, colourful is to colourless

Then I am sure beautiful is to beautiless

“This” I say, “is how English is.”

But know, there are more like this

I abandon the hunt ‘cause it’s too big

So it’s up to you to continue the dig.

Stay Home, Stay Safe

To all the adventurous spirits I advise

Not to visualize a superman of thyself

“Realize, now the situation is not so nice

That you can swat them off like a tiny elf

These are nasty goblins, bear in mind

Evil and sly, these scalawags so very naughty

As simple and daring, as you may find

Don’t be heedless and grant them entry

I warn you again and again

These are life sucking things loitering around

Once entered, control over your body they gain

And gobble you like a blood thirsty hound

Do equip thyself well with weapons

For these goblins are definitely unpredictable

Try and help the defenseless ones

For as much as you are capable

On the same, keep track of their location

As sly and slippery as they may seem

They show movement from nation to nation

For these goblins are the pathogens of COVID 19”.

A Day without Water

Waking up as the first sun beam strikes

Ah! Surely ‘tis a splendid day

With the delicious and the burning Sun

To sun bathe and gulp ice-cream

My flying hopes running aground

Taps open revealing not a trickle

Seems the water supply’s been cut

Oh my! O, what should I do?

Forced to recollect ancient techniques

Using neem twigs to brush the teeth

The nice smell refreshing the air

Keeping the bacteria at bay

My face burning red in angst

At this cruel joke by my mother

Hiding the news of stored water

Saved yesterday after hearing the news.

Water boiling due to sun’s heat

Giving a hot spring like feel

In the midst of summer heat

Scorching my skin and making it peel

Sweat dripping as midday crept

Burdening us with its implacable heat

Rubbing more salt into the wound

To conserve energy, electricity cut off

Not a single joule of energy left in me

To move about and get the ice-cream

Making me dizzier as the seconds ticked by

Fainted I unable to bear the heat

Viral in the media, this news reached us

The neighboring city was flooded

Grr… Here we sit with no water

And there the water was in abundance

Such relief that that day set

Taking with it the problem, it brought

Lighting a bulb forever in my mind

Water is precious –I shall never forget.

Namaste, Mr. Bond

Flying unrestrained, your pen never stops

Giving Mussoorie a magnificent obeisance

Fueling the urge to visit this heaven

And see all the things you laud

The twist in the journey aboard a train

Long fascinating conversation transpiring

The little secret of blindness hidden

Took me by immense surprise

Is the bungalow really there? I ponder

Of the boy, his uncle and the panther

The funny twist in the boy’s fate

Finding the panther where hunters falter

Ruskin Bond’s book of Verse

The most admirable that ever was

Only; If only I get to meet you!

You would like that too, won’t you?

Second Home

Trapped between four bars

With not a single sign to escape

Forced to obey when said

“Sit! Stand! And Take out your books”

Oh! Our ears echo with long lecture

Innocents bit by a swarm of bees

Struggling with the hailstorm of knowledge

Triumph with rapid glutting of erudition

Even so a second home school is

For wings spread when masters gone

We jump, shout and play

Relishing in fun so unrestrained

Reading and writing, listening too

Side conversations keep us going

Affirming that school is indeed a second home

Reverberating with the music of laughter

Besieged with laughter, faces aglow

Is what it’s like to really be in this bower!

Open Your Eyes and it’s here

“Oh! My textbook, where is it? “

Troubled, she paced around

“Where could it have gone?

In thy hand was it a second ago.”

Her room, we made upside down

In the cupboard of dolls and novels

Attacked we with our gleaming spears