Time

 

My grandmother planted

A guava tree, the day I was born.
By the time I came to understand,
 

The tree had grown manifold,

Beyond my height.
Many times I thought I would
 
One day outgrow that black green chap
But that never happened.
One day its leaves started

Turning yellow and its

Branches dried up announcing
Its death and my defeat.

 

Well, this is a romantic poem.  Had written it long back. Hope you will like it.  

Instinct

 I know, I don't love her

I don't care,

I have nothing to do

With her coming and going

Anywhere or

Talking to anybody

I have assured myself,

Several times a day.

Why several times a day?

I don't know.

 

I am aware of

her beautiful face,

with tender smile,

her lovable nature and

her soft voice,

her friendly disposition

and pleasing personality.

But I don't have to do

anything with all these

I have assured myself

again and again.

Why Again and again?

I don't know.

 

 

When I expect her arrival

My heart beats fast,

When she doesn't

My joy departs

I find myself often deep drowned

In the deep dark lakes of her eyes

A sweet smile on her lips

Takes me far away

And whenever these happened,

I have promised thousand times

With myself not to repeat

But why thousand times?

I don't know.

 

The Sun, 2001