Back From My India Trip

I came back from a month long trip to India on New Year’s eve afternoon.  I had a fourteen hour layover in Seoul, South Korea.  Not sure if I picked up some bug at Seoul or during the flight back to San Francisco, by night time of December 31st, I was sick to my bones.  As my family was still back in India, I tried to take care of the sickness as best as I could.  However things went from bad to worse and by the time my family came back from India I was a mess.  To make a long story short, 2018 started for me with sneezing, sniffling, runny nose, body ache, fever and topped off with a lingering cough that did not show any sign of going away.  Ultimately after ten days I went to the doctor today to ensure that I did not have secondary infection.  It was raining here from yesterday and visibility was poor.  It took me forty five minutes to get a parking place in the hospital and I was half an hour late for the appointment.  Luckily all the appointments were running late and I was able to see my doctor who assured me that there was no secondary infection and rest is the only thing I need to get well.

So here I am hoping that I can start where I left off at the end of November, 2017 and 2018 will be rewarding experience of blogging.

Wishing a belated happy, prosperous and wonderful New Year 2018 to all my readers.

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Love is a four letter word, so is pain

Letting go will ease the pain, they say

Only if leaving would have been easy

Value what you have, cherish today

Everything past is history, future fantasy


To my dear readers, I will be out for few weeks on a trip and may not have good internet connections.  So till we meet again, Happy Holidays and here is to wishing you all a very happy New Year 2018 in advance.

Where dreams come to die

‘We know their dream; enough

To know they dreamed and are dead; ‘ —W.B. Yeats ‘

 

Beware all ye who tread this road
Myriads traversed this path long before

This path is paved by their bones
Turn around, turn around
Before your dreams crush to dust
Swept under the swirling sands of history
Cries to feeble for those who follow to hear
Sordid stories of the powerful and the mighty
Spinning webs of fortune and glory
Fools following their calls of perceived glitter
Paid the ultimate price, this path doth litter
With their unfulfilled dreams
Ghosts of the tyrants and marauders of the past
False messiahs and society’s vainglorious leaders
With pretentious messages cast long shadows
Ruination only reward for those who follow
Does it matter who go first, dreams or dreamers
Blind followers’ dreams will lie shattered
Those who are left behind
Sheltered observers, detached all
Would rue the lessons of history not learnt
From the safe cocoons of their warm hearths
Wonder why no one heard their call
Beware ye all,
This road is the one chosen
Of all those dreamers
Who left behind their cry
Listen ye all, listen well
This road is the one
Where dreams come to die


This poem is in response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month (November) with Yeats Challenge day Twenty Four

Nearing Journey’s End

‘…your hair was bound and wound

About the stars and moon and sun:’—W.B. Yeats

Many a miles we traveled together

Sunshine and starry nights as guide

Dark clouds and moonless nights

We stumbled but always had each other

Words superfluous, we were bound by love

Words not spoken we could clearly hear

Now at journey’s end, we have no fear

Even with eyes closed, faith will guide us there

Even if we can not hear each other

Looking into each other’s eyes, we can decipher

When our sights will fail us, gentle touch will suffice

Even if unforseen calamities do happen

Pathway to our hearts will remain open

And when all our senses fail, my dear

We will know time to say goodbye is near


This poem is in response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month (November) with Yeats Challenge day Twenty Three

Door closed for the last time

‘The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,’ —W.B. Yeats

The door closed for the last time
The old occupant had left
No light will be shining today
The hushed voices, furtive exchanges
Business transacted in darkness
Comings and goings at odd hours
Night owls were they
All will cease momentarily
Resistance was futile
Free will broken and subdued
Tears ran dry long ago
Scant cover of modesty
Snatched and thrown away
Colorful dresses just an allure
Before being routinely disrobed
First time the door slammed shut
Rainbow had vanished
Somewhere over the roof
Sky hidden by darkness
No rainbows shined today
Under cover of the whitesheet
Closed eyes could not see
Tears  running down from the sky
Perhaps appropriately
Last journey under a
Canopy of dark clouds
A life lived hiding
Behind closed doors
Dim lights unable to lift
Perpetual veil of darkness
Left that all behind
On a starless night
None left to weep
Behind closed doors, mourners
Busy selling their wares
They have to survive
Till their call comes
Somewhere a new occupant
Being prepared
To satisfy animal lust
The door will open soon
For innocence to be lost forever


This poem is in response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month (November) with Yeats Challenge day Seventeen

She did not come to steal my heart

‘Do you not hear me calling, white deer with no horns?’—W.B. Yeats

The doe eyed beauty looked up and my heart melt

She walked daintily as if not to leave any mark, full of grace

Nature endowed her with all the beauty, she looked resplendent

A graceful curvaceous body  adorned by a beautiful face

My heart aching to reach out to her but I was afraid

She stole my heart as I looked at her hazel eyes

A red rose from the garden an appropriate gift, I surmised

Thanks I was not expecting but her acceptance  be my prize

Called out to her softly, asked her to wait

My heart beating, gently I went to pluck a rose

Surprised she darted changing her gait

As I saw my devastated garden, my heart froze

Did not wait for my rose, she did not come to steal my heart

After her voracious appetite, my rose garden will need a fresh start
deer (2)
©Pranab2017


This poem is in response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month (November) with Yeats Challenge day Sixteen