Copyright@shravancharitymission

MOTHER

Years don’t distort,

Time doesn’t warp,

Lifetime doesn’t blot,

As mother’s priceless memory,

 Always remains atop.

*

Even when I know you’re not there,

Yet there is always something,

 That tells me,

You’re somewhere here and somewhere there,

For my life and for my care.

*

In the measure of time,

You carried me up to cloud nine,

Then cradled me with all the rhymes,

You fed me to grind,

And taught me to shine.

*

My maiden friend,

The first to comprehend,

My lifelong mentor,

And evergreen centre.

*

In the shackles of time

You were always mine,

But when shackles unshackled,

God took you away in no time.

*

And since you’ve gone

Life is bereft of umpteen charms,

But the soul connect is still alive,

That revives the vibes

And that’s how life thrives.

*

Of all you taught me,

Each virtue is still fresh,

I May have forgotten school,

But you’re still afresh.

*

As time passes,

More of it comes along,

Just like your loving memories,

That keeps coming on and on.

*

Ma you’ll never fade,

You’ll always shine like the jade,

As long as I live,

And even beyond my days.

*

By Kamlesh Tripathi

*

https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

*

Share if you like it

*

Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases. Should you wish to donate for the cause the bank details are given below:

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

IFSC code: BKID0006805

*

Our publications

GLOOM BEHIND THE SMILE

(Archived in 7 prestigious libraries of the US, including, Harvard University and Library of Congress. It can also be accessed in MIT through Worldcat.org. Besides, it is also available for reading in Libraries and archives of Canada and Cancer Aid and Research Foundation Mumbai)  

ONE TO TANGO … RIA’S ODYSSEY

(Archived in Connemara Library, Chennai and Delhi Public Library, GOI, Ministry of Culture)

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

(Launched in Lucknow International Literary Festival 2014)

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

(Co-published by Cankids–Kidscan, a pan India NGO and Shravan Charity Mission, that works for Child cancer in India. The book is endorsed by Ms Preetha Reddy, MD Apollo Hospitals Group. Book was launched in Lucknow International Literary Festival 2016)

(CAN BE BOUGHT FROM ON LINE BOOK STORES OR WRITE TO US FOR COPIES)

*****

Copyright@shravancharitymission

DEAR SHRAVAN

I saw you here and I saw you there.

Even when,

 I know all very well,

You aren’t really there,

And every year on this day,

You do send me to despair.

*

When I reflect,

I still can recollect,

 Those lovely moments,

When you were born,

And I had thought,

We’ll be together lifelong,

But that was not to be.

*

In your fight for life,

I remember with gripe,

Seasons had come and seasons had gone,

Where time was kind but destiny was strong,

Though time fought well, yet destiny won,

As it snatched you,

With its divine intents.

*

Now that you’re gone,

There isn’t too much of a song,

Except for the noble mission,

That you had brought along.

*

You often come in my dreams,

That brings me loads of serene,

Is when, I willfully dream,

To serve those sick umpteens.

*

It is said,

Life is a mystery,

Where destiny is another name of cruelty,

But God is kind,

And time is like a serpentine.

*

And when I bring it upon myself,

I realise,

Your short span was indeed the mystery,

Where destiny pulled off the cruelty,

And between mystery and cruelty was God’s beauty,

But where time still meanders like the serpentine’s ferocity.

*

In this windswept life,

One more year goes by,

But I’m happy to tell you,

I’ve kept your mission alive.

So rest in peace,

For you have achieved your destiny.

***

In warm remembrance of our son’s birthday. Who left us some years back.

*****

POEM: THE RAT RACE

Copyright@shravancharitymission

THE RAT- RACE

In the heat of life,

There was never a summer,

But when the heat was over,

Only the winter got closer.

*

In my hectic life,

I was always uptight,

About things that mattered,

And also about things that didn’t matter.

*

In the days of heat,

Life was like a marathon race,

Where some pseudo brainwaves,

Had termed it as a rat race.

*

One initially thought,

It’s a onetime race,

But sadly, it turned out to be,

A lifetime of a race.

*

Where, the rats were surprised,

That it was some enterprise,

Where man stole the race,

And made it into a rat race,

And that too, without their gaze.

*

It all started well,

Like the string of jingle bells,

But soon the jingle was over,

And you were left as a rover.

*

There was so much to do,

And so much to improve,

Where I had my own dreams,

To brew and stew,

Until one day I realised,

I had a career to pursue.

*

Between the race and career,

Man had no breather,

Soon he became a teaser,

And with that a big schemer.

*

That resulted in endless pursuits,

And pointless disputes,

Bereft of generosity,

And full of ferocity,

Where humans were estranged,

And demons were ordained.

*

From exhaustive to repetitive lifestyle,

To loads of competition,

Until one day I realised,

Sanity was about to get paralysed.

*

As the stance of life was changing,

Where heat was evaporating,

Where winter was upstaging,

Grace was receding,

And where time was forsaking.

*

Is when I asked the creator,

What happens now?

When heat becomes cold,

Summer becomes winter,

Hectic become skeptic,

And I become rustic.

*

Nothing said the creator,

As good sense of life is always greater,

Then the rat race,

That happens to be a crater,

And in disguise a hater.

*

So come out of the it,

To live in the winter,

That also has a summer,

That also has a shelter.

*

For rat race is just a phase,

And phase should not be a craze,

And the ultimate is encased,

In the wisdom of faith.

***

By Kamlesh Tripathi

*****

POEM: I'M 60

Copyright@shravancharitymission

By Kamlesh Tripathi

I’m 60

When I turned 60,

Mind said, it’s now going to be risky,

But heart interjected—no way, it’ll only be frisky,

Where midway said—one way or the other,

Life is going to be slippery.

*

For career was over,

Cul-de-sac was closer,

Growth engines had succumbed,

Moolah was at its end.

*

Though posts and positions were over,

Fascinations, were still tall and not at all over,

From countless no ends,

I was heading towards a dead end.

*

I never thought of sixty,

Nor did I think of fifty,

Thirty is what I always thought of,

Till I was told I’ve turned sixty,

And for me,

It was tricky and as if bereft of whisky.

*

But age had nothing to do with my being thrifty,

As I always felt blessed,

And de-stressed,

Till someone announced I’ve clocked sixty.

*

Soon I realized,

Things were not the same,

For I was no more in fame,

But was it any shame?

*

Is, when my heart argued my mind,

And in the intertwine,

Heart convinced the mind,

All is not lost,

And at 60, life begins with a new chime.

*

For sixty is only a perception,

So a big deception,

Let some doors close,

For some to open.

*

But it’ll only open,

If you dare to do so,

Else you would only drift,

To the hell of oblivion.

*

I woke up inspired,

I woke up rejuvenated,

For years don’t matter,

In this bubbling atmosphere,

And all that matters

Is your emboldened gear.

*

So get up to do something worthwhile,

For you still can do it,

Even if the era has changed,

There is still so much to change,

From humanity to disdain.

*

And there is enough left,

Even for the seventy and eighty,

What to talk of sixty,

To grandly maintain.

*

I have memories galore

Some pleasant

Some unpleasant

But all to the core.

*

Having crossed several milestones,

I don’t look for stones,

For the page has turned,

More towards the urn.

*

So keep the lilt of life alive,

By discounting all your frights,

By upholding all the rights,

And by being upright.

This poem is for all those who have turned 60. It is essentially important not to stop doing things under the excuse of being old. There is so much to do and so much to improve in this planet. So don’t just pull the curtain on yourself. Rather, rise up to start your second innings. Good day.

By Kamlesh Tripathi

*****

POEM: CLUTTER IN MY EMPTY MIND

Copyright@shravancharitymission

By Kamlesh Tripathi

It springs up every time,

That clutter in my empty mind,

And each time,

It only reminds me of wasted times.

*

If empty mind is a devil’s workshop,

A cluttered mind is a spooky den,

Where emptiness is a result of nothingness,

And clutter an offshoot of everything-ness.

*

When I began doing things,

 I came out of my empty mind,

But by doing too many things at a time,

I cluttered my mind,

But whether it is the empty or the clutter,

Both smother the poetry of life.

*

And in this baffling world of mine,

One wonders at times,

From where to begin,

And where to end the acrobats of life.

*

At times even the almighty—the mind fails to act,

And slumps into emptiness,

And succumbs to everything-ness,

And deviates from equilibrium,

Where one only wonders why?

*

One day when I opened my eyes to see my mind,

I could only see zigzag and criss-cross of empty lines,

And that revealed the reasons,

For the clutter in my empty mind.

*

And thereafter,

I decided each day I would scan my mind,

And would meditate,

To remove,

The malwares floating in my mind.

*****