The festival of lamps has come
Children rejoice at its sight
Elders feel happy
In being able to light the lamps
Wherever I look, I see lights only
But there is no light within me
I wonder
Whether it is the case with others also.
What is the use of having light
When it canʼt kindle the heart
Religionists speak of that eternal light
Which is immersed in darkness
Let that be our effort
To kindle it in our heart.
V K Kutty
A book is not just bunch of written pages stuck together, but it is the portal to a world unknown. A time machine, that transports you into different zones.
And that was what Mr. Krishnan Kutty did, when he first lay his hands on the books. The Voracious reader in him, always made sure that he was savored with different genre and writing style. So much is his love for reading, that he literally never let any page unturned.
Concrete Jungle
In a brisk morning
when smokes were hurled
By the towering chimney
Nearby
I stood at wonder
Looking at the formation
Of carbon dioxide
There were no trees nearby
To consume them
To purify the living breath
And refresh the world
In the hot summer season
When I was walking through
The empty streets
My eyes searched for
Some protection
Given by Nature
Alas , I saw around me
Only jungle of concrete
there was no cool refreshing air
Coming from the trees
All these opened my eyes
I became aware of natureʼs beauty
Still I was not able to resist
That snake-charm of concrete
Indignation
I am a novice in vices
Even then I am a votary of it
I can’t understand these bloody men
Who sheds so many tears on morality
They are ignorant fools
Who don’t know what nature is
Without vice virtue cant exist
They are the reverse side of the same coin
If there is no vice in this world
It would be a boredom to live here
It is the follies and frivolities of others
Which make us happy in this world
Those who have no eyes to see this
Have no right to condemn others.
Hypocrisy
In this land of Bharata
God is said to be all-pervading
But I see only one thing pervading
That is nothing but hypocrisy
Leaders from all walks of life
Preach sermons from the mountaintop
They are not preceptors of what they preach
They see everywhere corruption, dishonesty and infidelity
And drop crocodile tears on the poor state
They expect everybody to be honest
While they are not honest to themselves
This kind of men can flourish
Only in this sacred land of ours.
Happiness
How can I describe my sumptuous joy
In getting a job in a limited concern
No more I am a Micawber, in its true sense
Thanks to the providence of god
Whenever I look I see success only
It gives me much joy to feel so
Now I am a recipient of recognition
Although it is a belated one
It always reminds of the truth
That man is only an instrument in the hands of god
There may be people to jeer at me
But I don’t care a hoot for them
Micawber-person who waits for
Something good to turn up.
Ego
In this vast universe
I am only a dot
Still I think I am prominent
Because of my ego
It is a stumbling block
For those who want to attain- the lotus feet of god
History gives us a long list of men
Who have become zero, due to Ego
Still I am not able to discard it
Now I have become wise
And try to follow the path of Yoga.
Childhood
Memorable are the days
When one has nothing to worry
Love is showered without stop
And when they compete to fondle you
After a few years, you grow up
And everybody expects manners from you
On a slight error, they rebuke you
They preach about duty and all such things
You get bored and shout to revolt
Then you are crushed with a heavy hand
You can only sigh and weep
For the lost childhood.
An Ode to Maa Ganga
Salutations to thee Ma Ganga
For coming to our land
On request of Baghiratha.
It took many years for Baghiratha
To please you and bring here
Thus the word Bhagiratha became synonym
For Hard work, untiring and relentless
You helped Baghiratha’s forefathers
To attain Moksha
From then we began to worship you
In the hope of immersing our sins in you
From then we have sinned so much
Even your purificatory power has gone down
It would not be a wonder
If you decide to vanish like your sister
In fear of becoming a sinner
You gave birth to Satya Vrata
Who became Bhishma
And left the earth when the promise was flouted.
On your banks flourished great empire
Which brought glory to Bharat
Alas time has changed and those Pilgrim centers
Have become nurseries of all vices
I presume, your unbecoming behavior
Is the result of our karma?
If you get infuriated it is not your mistake
None is to be blamed than we the selfish people.
An Ode to Death
an ode to death
Oh Death, you are the dispenser
Of joy and sorrows
I see god’s grace in you
But why elude those who want you
And thrust upon those
Trying to be far from you
Aren’t you aware of the injustice?
Or do you want to show
That you love those who hate you
And I do not see poetic justice in your act.
Ambrosia (Nectar)
ambrosia nectar
I am a bird with broken wings
I want to fly in the sky infinitely
Alas! I am unable to move an inch
Then how can I fulfill my dreams?
From heaven comes life-giving wind
That carries me on its way
And gives mobility to an otherwise immovable creature
How can I thank god for his all-embracing mercy
Which bundles the heart with zest of life.