The Vendor

They cast their hopeful eyes on me
The potatoes in the mound
The mangoes looked cautiously
From their pile on the ground.

The tomatoes’ sight followed
When I looked through their lot.
I shook my head at the vendor
“Is this what you’ve got?

“Tomatoes green and raw!
Mangoes undoubtedly sour!
Who will think of buying them?
They’ll be abandoned for sure!”

The vendor shook his turbaned head
And cast a little smile
“I agree that to realize
It takes quite a while.

“But won’t these green tomatoes
Turn mellow one day?
Aren’t these raw mangoes meant
To be yellow one day?”


For a summer day’s activity
I set a stand for lemonade
In the buzzy, busy heat
Of the crowded esplanade.

But when a nice old woman
Limped over for some
I was much too excited
To know what’d come.

When she approached me
I grinned (a bit too wide)
I toppled across my stand
(It hurt) I grabbed my side.

Then I slipped on on my water
I slid stupidly on the floor
Cleaning up the mess I made
Would be much of a chore.

The irked old woman
Glared and walked away
She squashed my foot as she went
“Ow.” is all I could say. Continue reading Hullabaloo

The Sorry Story of an Apple Core

After I was plucked
And after I was packed
After I was bought
On me they snacked.

But why me?
Why me did they buy?
I’m in such a sorry plight
That I really want to cry.

When I’m singing my woes
I’m not where I must be
I like the place, but it’s a disgrace
That it is nowhere close to me.

The dustbin! The wonderful dustbin!
I want to be in there!
It is like heaven to an apple core
Of justice, I must have my share!

WHY ME of all apple cores
Must be sitting on this lane?
I would have loved the dustbin
But here, I am in pain.

This awful lane is dusty!
This awful lane is… awful!
And now I know very well
That I’m one unlucky apple.

If all garbage is dumped on the road
All garbage will cry into the mud
And the pain will not be for it, but for you
As the sorry street will flood.

A garbage awareness poem.

Robber Protection

In the dead of the night
When there wasn’t any car or van
Out of the dark shadows
Came a black-hooded man

He made not a single sound
He stuck to the sides
He’d not be found
If anyone tried.

He slunk across the wall
Like a filthy, selfish snob
But he wasn’t there only to snoop
He was there to rob.

He wanted to loot people
Who lived in that great mansion
Of all their luxuries
And all things they fashion.

He wanted to see suffering
He wanted to see everyone weep
He could carry out his plan
Only when everyone was asleep.

He’d never experienced
Giving pain to people
Or on other valuables
His hand to steeple.

How thrilling it’d be!
How fun it’d feel!
To finally see
How it is to steal.

He made it to the back garden
Where lied the back door
It was never really locked
But wait, there’s more…

To make sure no one was following
The man looked behind.
“Hello, thief. Is there
Anything wrong with your mind?”

A sound came from nowhere
On its end stood his hair
He knew it came from somewhere
But the question was… WHERE?

“My voice is coming from this tree
For two main reasons, see-
One- I am the tree
Two- The tree is me.
So unless soon you’ll flee
I’ll warn my master and then, hee hee hee.”

The man’s eyes grew wide
They almost popped out of his face
He ran and he ran
Like in a running race.

Nice way, don’t you think,
To end theft suspicion?
To install such a device
That’ll give you robber protection.


As I sat waiting, desperate, anxious
I couldn’t help but remain conscious
Ahead I stared, I wasn’t prepared
I’d flop and go all bonkers.

‘Twas a sunny day outside
But in my mind I cried
“Oh, wretched head, I’d gone to bed
But then the night had died!”

I hadn’t seen at all
What was in that little book
What read it all, and stand up tall
I hadn’t even looked!

My turn, it came like doom
Slithering like anacondas do
I walked ahead, dread in my head
And slightly yelling too.

Said Teacher “Hello, welcome
To your centre stage.
Tell me, my dear girl
Oh what may be your age?”

“Thirteen” I said
Worried to the end
My hands and feet were cold
I thought my spine’d bend.

“So tell me, Ms. Thirteen
Why are leaves green?
What’s the colour of silence, the source of brightness
And what is always unseen?”

I stared at most of nothingness
I shrugged. Did I dare?
“The answers are chlorophyll
And black and light and air.”

“BRAVO!” said Teacher
I hadn’t prepared, but still I dared
And that’s all I have to say.

The Tail Of Curiosity

I’ll tell you a tale
I’ll be so kind
It’ll have much detail
If you don’t mind.
The tale is short
And I’ll take a start
Long, long ago
Our set you’ll find.

It was one of
Those quiet nights
Wasn’t much of
A scenic sight
It was not a place
To find many faces
Neither a place for
People to fight.

But if the eye
Had enough mind
To look above,
It would find
An explosion of brightness
A sea of stars
More than the number
Of the world’s cars.

On this silent, starry night
Most unusually, emerged a kite.
The kite was curious to watch
In the hours of dark
But it was even more amusing
To see walking behind, a lark.

The lad was seen to be
Wide-eyed and open-mouthed
Following the tail of the kite
Heading towards the south.

The lad seemed deeply intrigued
By the kite’s route to nowhere
His eyes were absorbed in the
Hovering figure in the air

The lad’s senses seemed
By curiosity, devoured
And because we weren’t there
To ask why, we can’t afford.

The kite moved on sluggishly
The lark following behind
The place where it was going
He seemed determined to find.

The lad was clutched by curiosity
He had gone insane to know
He was ready to unearth
No matter how extensively slow.

And how slow was the kite
Must I say?
As the lad went away from view,
Night turned into day!

No one knows where the lad went
But there is a possibility
That he is still following
The tail of curiosity.

The Willow

I once met a friend
In my garden
Just at the time of her birth
I was told later on
That she was
Thrown into the Earth.

She just lay there
Stunned and still
Not knowing whether
She had the will

She was far away
From thinking why
When droplets emerged
From the sky.

They fell hard on her
Like bullets they felt
As the poor thing was buried
Into the ground

With the least sense
Of waking up
Drifting into sleep
Without a sound.

For then the next day
She looked around
She’d found a new,
Splendid home

It was well away
From the nasty straw basket
And also wan’t shaped
Like a dome.

It was damp and warm
It felt divine
All around were
Friendly creatures

It was better than every
Luxurious home
Or one with all
The leisures.

Until, one day
She felt like stretching out
She wanted to germinate
She wanted to sprout.

All she did was
Go to sleep
On the moss down
In the deep.

The next morning
Was on of a kind
Where herself
Would she find?

Under the sun
So beautifully standing
Was her
Her own business minding.

But not what it is to you
Was to her, mind
For she had found a lot
More of her kind.

She giggled at the warmth
She felt at her face
Her feet still tucked
Into the ground.

At that time, to her
They were nowhere
Close to being
Rightly found.

Over more time
That can’t be described
She grew lovely hair
Naturally bright green
That added to her flair.

She was majestic
High up in the air
Her face was
Dark as bark.

After a while
She realized
There was something
Perched on an ark

The ark was her arm!
It sure was!
And do you know why?
That was because…

A willow was growing
In the woods
Of the unknown
At utmost splendor.
And, that marvelous tree
Happened to be her!

She’d smile warmly
At heavy storms
And at all the
Strong winds blown
All those days, just perfect
Without a single moan…

A heavy throb at her body felt
Enough for an unheard cry
It shattered all the lovely moments
Of time come and time gone by.
It was enough
It was the end
Her feet were pulled out
Never to remend.
She shut her eyes
Ever so silently
But her heart…
It was broken violently.

edited from the original

The Beanstalk of Virtue

There was one day when a beanstalk grew…
High into the sky it towered up to the sun,
And then the days of darkness had begun…

The plants stopped growing, the land grew bare.
There was nothing but darkness, like the sun wasn’t there.

A shadow fell over the grass which was green,
the land around was unseen.

A lighthouse on the coast was watching the bay,
when it noticed the night during day.

There a girl who not many knew,
away the darkness decided to shoo.

Out of the lighthouse she came with a lamp,
the air was salty and very damp.

Looked around her and spotted what the dark source may be,
a tall and upstanding anonymous… tree?

She walked to the stalk, and to where it went,
and wondered from where it could have been sent.

She made up her mind to set the sun free
from the boulder that blocked it and all that may be.

She knew she had taken too big a leap
as she climbed over the stalk leaves that were steep

The leaves were huge, the stalk and them alike;
It’d be a pretty place for a hike.

But her tiny black shoes pushed hard against the stem
as she tried to get past it and them.

Along the way she panted and puffed
and sometimes stopped, sat down and huffed.

Amongst her biggest fears was one of falling down
But she didn’t dare to look below her peasant gown

Stumbling and whopping, she went on the track
Now that she’d begun, there was no looking back.

A girl in a lighthouse that she was before
was climbing up a stalk that would soon be no more

As she finally reached the top of her goal…
She saw the Sun, glorious and bright!
With protection it would have been a marvellous sight.

But the rays of the Sun went right into her eyes,
and she fell right from the skies.

She was frightened and in great pain.
She tried to grab the stalk in vain.

One of the leaves got caught in her shoe,
and she tried hard to pull herself up too.

Tugged, she did, with all her might,
but the leaf around her shoe just became tight.

She had the determination in her heart, she had the courage too
She had the concentration in her mind and tried to get towards her shoe

Suddenly, a great creak she heard
and a loud chorus of the wings of birds

She felt she was going down, down, down
to get burried alive into the ground

She opened her eyes and saw many around her.
The curiosity of the moment completely bound her.

The strength of her courage had pulled the stalk down. Or so she was told, she was.
She had done what couldn’t any soldier or any charming horse.

Adventure was what she had sought, and it was what she got.
Over the vast horizon peaks had happened a lot.

Gandhiji’s Words

In a dream I saw Gandhiji
Something that he said
I just remembered one thing
“Clean up your messy bed!”

I kept thinking about this dream
Oh what could it mean???
Then I knew just what to do
I had to keep things clean

Off I went to clean my bed
And then I grabbed a broom
It worked like a magic wand with me
What a neat and tidy room!

Now I know he is happy
Now that my room is neat
I am sure that I’ll keep it like that
Don’t think I’ll cheat!