The Youngest Child

I suppose in the elder’s eyes,

The youngest seems to have it best

Always pampered, always loved

Cared for more than the rest.

But we, the smallest siblings

Know that’s far from the truth

And now I’ll list before you

The drawbacks of our youth.

No matter what they say,

Elders are given utmost respect

“They’re older and know better!”

While we’re treated with neglect.

An opinion of a youngster

Is instantly dismissed

If the big one’s got a view

Ours ceases to exist.

They say age is just a number

Yet, when yours is greater

What you say is dead-on

Mine can be tended to later.

Elder siblings are full of envy

Had stricter parents, harsher rule

They ensure you’re treated the same

Go out of their way to be cruel.

“When I was her age,” they’ll yell

“I didn’t have a phone!”

They’ll exaggerate for our downfall

To compensate for their own.

Mum and Dad will exclaim

“Oh you’re right, yes yes,”

And we’re robbed of potential treats

My sister’s true nature they’ll never guess.

In front of relatives, they’re angels

Wearing halos round their head

But when they leave, that halo

Is used as a lasso on me instead.

So now that you’re aware

Of my story of partial woe

The truth about being

The youngest- now you know!

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Box Of Memories- Poem

He tucked his child in bed to sleep

In the still of the silent night

He yawned, but he had work to do

Office chores by the night lamp’s light

When from the corner of his weary eyes

A stowed away box he spied

He inched his way towards it

Swept decades of dust off its side

In mild curiosity it was opened

And these were the box’s contains:

Picture albums in black and white

Snippets of past, childhood’s remains.

The 40 year old gazed at himself

Locked in mother’s embrace

Twelve years old, young, carefree

Now a tear rolled down his face

He turn the page and stared

His heart heavier as he went on

The days with his own family

Those beautiful days were gone.

He close his eyes; before him flashed

The day which held the most regret

At 19, he had left his parents

Whom he had sworn to forget.

From a distance came a voice

“Daddy?” he heard his princess say

He yearned she’d never leave her papa

Like he abandoned his one day.

“I’m coming my love,” he smiled

Giving her soft hand a little squeeze

The lights came off and he slept,

Remembering that box of memories.

Raksha Bandhan

 

Raksha Bandhan is a special festival in India. It is a day where a sister ties a band known as a rakhi on her brother wrist as an act of love and care. Happy Raksha Bandhan my friends!

Oh brother, on this special day

This rakhi that I give to you

carries the deepest meanings

From my heart and true.

 

We fight almost everyday

Like a Tom and Jerry show

A matter of death and survival

Dodging every shout and blow.

 

But dada, if that didn’t happen

We wouldn’t be quite as close

The love that I want to give

I hope this little rakhi shows.

 

So brother, put out your hand

And I will tie this bond of utmost care

Cheers to a happy loving life

And a few more squabbles to share.

 

 

The House

I used to be a strong bricked house
With families laughing inside
A fireplace once flamed before
And happiness didn’t hide.
But the grave story that occurred
And the master living in died
And tears and coughs filled the floor
Swept over like a tide
The mother cried and wept
The children screamed and flailed
Until it became to much to bare
And to oblivion they had sailed.
Then the orange heart of fire
That once gleamed the chimney down
Never glowed ever again
Just soot remained with a frown.
The flower-patterned curtains
That once had been drawn
Now had fell with neglect
All happiness had gone.
The door which had once
Greeted eager friends and guests
Now was closed for eternity
Creaking with blackened crests.
The planked floor that once had shone
Was now layered with grime and hurt
No love penetrated any of the thick
And unvanishing, evil dirt.
So the family had left me!
I was left all alone!
I was now just the ignored servant
No longer the house of the throne.
At first the sorrow came to me
But then the bitter thoughts in me
Flashed by the ceiling that be my mind
How to please a lovely family
Would be so hard to find.
WAS…IT…MY…FAULT…
THAT…DEATH…HAD…OVERCOME?
THAT GOD’S SPITE HAD KILLED MY MASTER
THAT I HAD TO WEEP AND REMAIN GLUM?
I BEG YOU LORD! BRING ME BACK >em<
THOSE DAY LOVE AND CARE
OF FLAMING CANDLELIGHT ON THE TABLE
INSTEAD OF CUPBOARDS BARE?<
MUST I SUFFER ALL THIS PAIN?<
CAN YOU NOT PLEASE REFRAIN?</
DONT MAKE ME MAD, OH, GOD!>Em
DONT MAKE ME GO INSANE!
Let humans live inside me
Let one water the flowers on
The ivy and the dying trees<
clasping against the lawn!
Now that you have decided
To not return my family dear
I shall change…. I will cause no happiness
Just DREAD AND SPITE AND FEAR!
I STAND ALONE! I DEFEND MYSELF!
NO MORE MEMORIES
DIG FOR AND TO DELVE!
I NOW TAKE MY SAD REVENGE
AND GHOSTS SHALL NOW LIVE IN
THE SORRY BROKEN TILES OF ME
I DONT BELIEVE IT A SIN!
THEY FEED OF THE GLOOM AND
THEY FEED OF MY DREAD!
BUT THAT IS ALL THAT IS LEFT FOR
MY SPIRIT IS DEAD.
I now live for ever all alone
The sun rays signs of doom
I know for fact that flowers
In the gardens wont ever bloom.
Oh I give up! It is the last straw!
I throw my hand up in the air.
I am closing, dying at my will
DYING IN DESPAIR.

 

 

 

 

You are You

In the entire extensive world
I guarantee you’ll never find
An object, or a soul at that
With your exact same mind.
You can look in all directions
You’ve ever learnt in school
But you’ll never find a duplicate
Of you, warm or cool.
“Why?” you ask. “How?” you’ll say
And I’d happily reply to you
“Cause you’re unique, my dear friend
I thought you already knew!”
You may look like your Papa.
You might be just as strong.
But you may be just shyer
I bet them I’m not wrong.
A hundred differences there are
Not just with Papa but with Mum.
You might be just as tall
But there are differences some.
Your personalities may seem similar
With your sweet sis and big bro
But trust me on this- honey,
There are more changes than you know.
Your friends and yes your enemies!
You too are quite alike!
But some tiny variations like
Between a scooter and a bike.
Listen: I’m telling you:
You really are simply unique
You’ll never find someone just like you
No matter how hard you seek.
The thousand billions of creatures
That live upon this earth
You’re completely different from them
You are in your own berth.

Friends Together Again

>When my father was in school, he shared a close friendship with some of his schoolmates. Their bond was so strong that they were quite inseparable. Even when they left school and parted ways, their pure, soft flame of friendship never broke. Two months ago, Papa had gone to the U.S for a business trip. When he reached, he met his old friends. He mailed to me….:

Hi Dear,
I met some old friends of mine after many years – Mama can show you the picture. I want you to write a poem for me about meeting old friends and how good you feel – going down the memory lane , maintaining childish thoughts – as if we are meeting after a day and not 20 years .. something about child friendship which does not die but keep the flame on which is pure , soft and not driven by materialistic world …. so on and so forth.
Love, Papa ♥

And so, that moment, I went into Papa’s mind and imagined how it would feel to meet my cherished friends after 20 years. This is what I came up with:

HELLO AGAIN

I have grown a beard
My smile is quite old
And yes, I have a family!
My life’s in perfect mould!
I have rules and terms
I follow them well
But have you ever felt
That urge to go and dwell?
To forget my age
And simply transform
Into simple schoolboy
My heart young and warm!
My friend, I have told you.
I am not that young anymore.
From that little point,
I have reached miles galore!
But that doesn’t change
The little, precious fact
The flame from the time we met
Yes, it stays exact.
Even though I’m not young
I’m still that little boy
Who treated life carefree
Like a tiny toy!
I still remember when
Together we linked arms
Played pranks on friends
Made with teacher charms.
Laughed and ran out to play
And see if our gang
Had scored enough goals yet
And get that childish pang!
Fought madly over
The possession of a pencil
Like a squabbling ducky
Or a banging utensil.
Ran with windy speed
To avoid laying shadow
On one another
On this we were mad-oh!
I’ll never forget how
We walked to homes of each other
Hoping for Auntie’s delicious treats
Like sister and brother.
Oh, the times we had
when we were tiny growing seeds
Carrying out funny plans
And naughty boy misdeeds.
My friend, keep listening.
Even though it’s twenty years
The child-y flame’s blazing
Warding of the fears.
Till now, you and me
Are best friends in and out
The truth is in the air.
Not even a point to shout!
If we are in different places
And thousand miles apart
I’m Arindam and you’re my BFF
Young, loving from heart.