WALK ….FOR ALL THOSE WHO LIVE…

                         FOR ALL THE WALKS OF LIFE.....

                            FOR  ALL WALKS FOR BETTER LIFE…..

   

 

 

The topic of late, amidst all the forty plus aged men’s group,
And the hotly discussed casein every major health forums,
In pursuit among other gossips within the women’s soup,
Heads the doctor’s order to reduce the fat in the diet columns.

Advice oft given here in repeat, eat less and burn more fats,
Real culprit, the low density lipoproteins that carry the sterols,
Clogging the coronary vessels, the hearts in disease, says stats,
Brains in roll everywhere, for ways to stall bad cholesterols.

History rolled back, we all travelled on feet for many a century
Then came carts, bicycles, mopeds and the four wheelers,
Shortened thus our travel time, saving fat and saving energy,
Advent of communication revolution worsening the matters.

Our body fat now in accumulation, ala money, now in deposits,
Fixed fats, accumulated with interest, deposited everywhere,
Less work with more comforts in life, lifestyle now in new shifts,
The lifestyle diseases, the new sobriquet too is coined here.

The morbidity, thus starts from here, clubbing many a disease,
The graph showing a steep upward climb, unmindful of the age,
Many an adult death, in their mid forties on a sharp increase,
The writing is clear on the wall, the demon holding center stage.

Brains rolled, again in overtime, following the commoner’s plea,
The drugs in contention at best can reduce morbidity, no more,
Exercise can burn many a joule, yet not in everybody’s cup of tea,
More activity, less fat in store, the walk to health washed ashore.

Apart from thinning waistlines, boosts muscles and our bones,
Gains a control over many a disease, coordinates body encore,
Relaxing our mind with ease, oft in reverberating overtones,
The brisk walks bring better gains, the message here for sure.

The Idyllic abyss - The Grand Canyon effect

   Oh! on my maiden trip to America, I was on cloud nine,

   All  I had learnt and heard is from the print and net

   Vast country that proudly claiming many a time zone,

   Initial lessons cast my psyche an everlasting imprint.

   One of my sojourn was a trip to the mountain pass,

   Grand Canyon, they told me, I just gave a deaf ear,

   May be my idiocy, I thought its just another to pass ,

   The curtain raiser, the show, that made me peer .

   The word meaning told me it’s a deep mountain pass

   Often a river dividing the pass, here it’s the Colarado

   Millions of years of erosive effort to carve an abyss

   History dates back, Colarado carving this ravine too,

   Three hundred miles long, a mammoth one, unimaginable 

   All eighteen miles in width, indeed six thousand feet high

   Layers of sedimentary rocks bemusing even the venerable,-

   Geologist’s paradise, a never ending practical precipice,

   The Colorado plateau, the conducive winds, river water,

   Collectively reforming a visual breath taking spectacle,

   Lava turning the sediments, metamorphosis within crater,

   The magmas flowing from under the rocks’ receptacle ,

  The melt, the minerals and the gases alter the texture,

  Cooled to form  the granites, the limestone phenomenon,

  The proterozoic era, saw the mountain building nature

  Lifting and erosions did the rest, to form a  rare canyon,

  Mezozoic era, reigned the canyon area with  dinosaurs

  Lost out  in the cinozoic era when mammals took over

  Volcanic turbulence, the snow cutting and dry weathers  

  Acted to convert  into a breathtaking spectacle forever,

  Violent storms and flash floods, fast downcuts in the rocks

  Combined with slow widening, truly natures’ fascination

  Lack of moisture refines the naked rock’s added stocks,

 The red wall lime stones and the sandstone, sans erosion

 Chiseling the older crystalline rocks into the  granite rocks, 

 The pleasant bus drives enabling the breath taking delight,

 The enthralling helicopter, the astonishing view in stocks,

 This idyllic abyss, stands apart, beholds one and all in sight.

  

A CORPSE’S DEADLY DREAMS

Every man or woman born under the sun do nurture ambition,
None is an orphan, to begin with, at least one at your bedside,
Be with two of those chromosomes, a pair, indeed is a passion,
Here I was lucky to have them, when I cried first, by my side.

Years rolled, I was a naughty boy, like many of you, I presume,
But not as bright as you because ,I was numero uno in mark list,
If read from bottom to top, carefree and ever rolling in plume,
Then came the twin disaster, you can never imagine, the twist.

Parents left me one by one, as if in a hurdle chase, all in a trice,
I was stranded ,helpless , an orphan at the tender age of five,
Fate won’t leave anyone, I got a messiah, I grew up, but unwise
Schooling , sans ambitions, Alas! cometh a swarm of bees alive.

Fate befell, again orphaned in persona, safety, and in thought,
Vagabond in nutshell, life, like a boat without sails and a shore,
Penniless, jobless, who will care me, indeed I was distraught,
Falling ill for cause unknown, landed in a clinic for poor’s chore.

Angels there helped me no further, I knew I was a sinking ship,
Hepatic Coma, doctors whispered, I guessed, yet I couldn’t resist,
With none to help my cause, a wild dream! my senses did weep,
The body after death to anatomy, in sarcasm told one internist .

On my naked body once you learnt anatomy, four decades before,
Dreams I had, like you, unfilled though, but none such any more,
Had a hoary years of childhood and youth ,no regrets anymore,
My body and me for a noble cause, corpses cant’ dream any more.

FROM FRIVOLITY TO DOOMSDAY

   

We the homosapiens differ from the four legged mammals

The fourteen hundred grams of neurons of the grey matter,

Exceeds by volume and number compared to these animals,

Yet we humans, though wise trail them in many a matter.

Inventions made our lives easy on earth by leaps and bounds,

Travelling by many routes made all of us save many a hour,

Commuting at our fingertips, the world now so small, it sounds,

Yet we sometimes lose our years and life, to save just an hour.

Advances in medicine too took giant leaps in the last century,

 Critical care is the watchword for any ail, in any urgent state,

Accidents take a lion share, at times flooding the mortuary,

Many such are manmade, a few seconds may enforce that state.

The neurons need rest, recoup their glucose, aided by sleep,

The eyelids do suffer the same, oh! worsened by the gravity,

The darkness, silence   all around aid the events in a sweep,

A split second blemish, all in combine adding to the intensity.

Such a mishap did occur recently, a violin maestro succumbed,

The late night drive, the crowded schedule and a lazy triviality,

Failing to keep the falling eyelids up for a  split second indeed,

The crash, rung the death knell for the maestro with intensity.

Two year cute tot was crushed, the baby seat may be insecure,

Yet the precious baby fell prey to the avoidable travel itinerary,

Such accidents do come often, we never introspect but ignore,

We can blame and ruin our life but  child’s safety is a top priority.

Young maestro’s life cut short, the tiny tot never saw the world,

These mishaps do occur, it does reign or rain  here or anywhere

Night drives, that too with tots, never throw caution to the wind,

Never drive to doomsday, for somebody awaits you somewhere.

  THE CORPUS DREAMS OF A CORPSE

 

 

 My very first day at medical school , started on a horrifying note

 My huge ambitions though, for a split second,  took the rear seat,

 Never in my seventeen years, had   such a bad  nightmare quote,

 Thirty naked formalin drenched cadavers, all  in a pathetic plight

 These men and women, truly born somewhere   with a purpose,

 Might have their youth full of promises and wild expectation,

 Destiny turned a topsy   turvy upon each one of their life course,

 None to care their needs in old age, death, oft the best invitation.

 Years too rolled, these thoughts withered amongst the newer role

 Ailing men and women and their happiness all filled my dreams

 Bringing back the waning cheer, oft a never ending rigmarole,

 Sixth decade in my almanac   rejuvenated my withered screams,

 This news helped them to rekindle my cadaveric sympathy again,

 Here was a widower, leading a lonely life amongst riches all years,

 Lost his spouse early, the malignant fangs crippled her in all pain,

 He too had dreams, like the dreams of any parent all these years.

 Had a son, was bright in his teens, grey mater rich in knowledge,

 A scientist in offing, ending with a super medical degree for sure,

 Married and settled abroad for many years, forgetting the pledge,

  The old man day dreaming the sight of his son, his lips in murmur ,

 Chats oft ending on a futile note, son never heeded, paid no care,

 Old man dreaming, the son will do his final rites, to say the least,

 That day came, the call was sent, yet the son never heard the fare,

 Instead, he magnanimously donated the cadaver to medical  treat.

 Medical school cheered, the old man’s  dream all ended in tatters,

 The future of many of us may have such tales, humanity do suffer,

 Many cadavers might have had many unfilled dreams that matters,

 Untold, unheard, their solemn whispers, we can’t hear for ever

THE CHENNAI  DELUGE

Water, water everywhere, not a drop to drink, this quote so famous
Hearing this casually, you may not know exact depth of this chorus,
This month of December, Chennai taught us its true volume and fate,
What a lesson, a rude shock, scenes all gory, in an unrelenting spate.

The State encore, ever  lamenting that rain gods are often niggardly,
Never getting their due, year after year seeing draughts in regularity
This monsoon is their breadwinner on the fields, oft they too yearn,
Being on the eastern side, their monsoons always an annual sojourn,

Every ten years to be precise, their  rain gods  get irked, and  furious,
First of December, this city shook, despite the forecast so vicarious,
Nature at its furious worst, not rained, but poured with vengeance,
Havoc in pursuit, the normally polite and busy city now in shambles.

The rulers shell shocked both in office and of it, remaining in mute,
The state gasped, people pell-mell, water rising, an alarming chute
Transport services beheaded, on the road, rails, and on the air too,
Planes appearing as submarines, even the flyovers under the threat.

The busy Mount road, instead, floating boats for the rescue mission,
Cars, mopeds, autos besieged under torrential flow, swept in unison,
Houses lost their identity, people, penniless, hopeless and homeless
All modes of help, TV, phones, mobiles, power, dead and functionless.

The fury of the rains unabated, Chennai became an island of agony,
Pray the god to rebuild Chennai to the beauty it  beheld ,in glory
All the brains should use their cells to prevent this mishap again,
Shrewd planning the need of the hour, an eye opener for future gain

TREAD ON RED FOR YEARS IN STYLE….. 

                          DREADED RED NOW IN NEAR EXILE…..

      









 

My life a sad one indeed, alive, believe me, now dying a slow death,
My age, I crossed a century and a half in style, now in huff and puff,
Reigning supreme even in my last decade, was never short of dearth,
My  confidence brimming at times, spilling too much with my stuff.

The kingpin before the electronic era, thy needs I did in grand shows
Guess what, collected thy currency, thy curricula, thy heart and love,
Messages from the son and daughter, their merriment and sorrows,
The news of childbirth or of the departed souls, received all in score.

Choked and spilled aplenty when thy festive seasons were in galore.
The dawn of every new year, I conceived  with thy messages more,
Year after year I toiled in the sun and winter, thy mirth all in my core,
Rains hurt my skin, I rusted and disgusted, a new coat rarely in store.

Suffered all these insults for thy service, serving the country my  aim,
Lost my charm, I agree, do I deserve  an obituary note, thee proclaim
Days trickle by, the electronic  threats indeed manhandle my frame,
Desolate and depressed, my existence now  in jeopardy and in shame.

The last score of years I do hear my death knell, thy leading the thrill,
Decline gradual, my appetite declined, my presence just a standstill ,
Pen lost its charm, writing a forgotten art, my coffers never in spill,
Fears cloud my vision, my end near, I beg thy mercy for my second fill.

 DAY OF THE DEAD
  

The thoughts of childhood dreams flash with a scary nightmare
Wonderful or weird on day one, a fiery next with noisy shrills
Fear, an instant inborn emotion and a startling newborn affair
Fear of darkness still worse, fearing the demons and the devils.

Myths about devils are almost universe, no continent is immune,
Only the form and shapes differ, so too their basis or of text,
All centered around the devils, their spells of favors and fortune
Vikram and vedal of oriental origin, Halloweens of the west,

Orientals believe, the dead be cremated and their souls set free,
Appease them with yearly feasts on the star day of their demise,
These souls wishing them the best till they finally meet in spree
Also believe, only natural deaths have these desired privileged rite.

Untimely and unnatural deaths, unrecovered corpses and suicide,
Aren’t blessed with peaceful souls to a place of solitude forever,
Sojourn on earth unaccomplished, Oh! prematurely against the tide,
Hovering from trees to trees, in search of a haven secure and safer.

Though they are unseen till date, none refutes their existence either,
Yearly appeasement solve at best some mental unrest and undoing,
Traditions in the west aim the same, feasting, appeasing the ancestor,
Please them on all Saints day or Halloween’s day, indeed in rejoicing.

Dates back to Celtic myths of feasting the souls of the otherworld,
Pleasing these condemned and wandering souls happily in astray
For a stopover and stay, still groping in the darkness of our world
Jack-O-lanterns of the turnips and pumpkins showing their way.

Decorated and lit homes inviting them for the feast on the eve,
Mystic beliefs everywhere do exist, the message loud and clear,
We only live once, serve thy parents, kith and kin with love
Die peacefully, with no chains around your neck in your stopover.

WORDS THAT HEAL THY PSYCHE

 

Life is short, indeed the words written or spoken last for ever,

Smoothening ones, the solace and comfort they go a long way,

We, the humans’ fell out of bag of water, natures gift for sure,

 Are the tiny drops of rain to bid finally in the ocean in sway.

We, in the pink of health, all resounding and rejoicing in glee,

Surround us, is the canopy of viruses, bacteria, fungi and few,

Immune to all these awhile, then overpower us too in spree,

The dawn and moon were shiny, unmindful of their curfew.

These  evenings of ours amidst the setting sun, hours in glory,

Yet, fret and fume when our body s rocked oft by ills and frills,

There is enough time  dear friend, the sunset is still far away,

Recoup yourself, to bask in the evening sun, in all the thrills.

                

EVEN ALL GOOD THINGS  MUST END SOMEWHERE!

                ~ A TRIBUTE TO A GREAT SURGEON WHO TAUGHT ME

Surgeons  are a rare breed, they cut tissues mercilessly, sometimes the wanted too,

They are the  god incarnate roaming in white coats, ruling the operating theater,

They cut, they probe, they anastomose, or sever tissues, with such a surgical  motto,

Yet all will be well once the wound and psyche are healed with the healing fervor

The scalpel that saved many a life over the years, severed many a mass with disdain     

Left many a pile mass shrinking, bleeding within it, hernias concealed with aplomb

Many a thyroid  forgot their irk, many  goiters left guessing in disgust, routed in pain

Thy dedication, skill and penance, we, salute thy mastery, with unbridled enthusiasm

We ‘ll miss the witty sarcasm, thy  gracious presence  in our midst, and thy greatness

We pray almighty not to return  your passport to clarify His personal surgical  doubt,

We need your fatherly  presence here to navigate  the neophyte  surgeons in duress

The operating theater will bleed instead, in your absence, the aura missing, sans doubt.

We wish you all the best in health, even when you do not hold the scalpel in your hand

Heart warming human relations ...

 

Oft we think that we decide to warm the newly built house,
That thought kept ruminating my inner mind many a time,
Suddenly and strange indeed this flashed my hypothalamus,
Aren’t human relations too, intriguingly, like building a house,

Human body is a strong frame built with bones and muscles.
Many an organ designed to do certain functions many a time
Besides storing emotions, growing happiness and goodwill,
Hormones and blood doing the balancing act of expression.

So too a house, built with hard stones, gravel and soft sands,
Plastered and cemented well for smooth functioning forever,
The soul of the house remains in the kitchen, sans argument,
Fire burning inside to warm the milk.an augury for the future

The fire in you, the desires inyou, thy ambitions are lit there,
To march ahead in life, safely, soundly and for a secure sleep,
Like the body suffering ails and repaired, houses too at times,
Crumbling may be very far, depends upon how you care for it,

Some die young, some live longer, strong and healthy too.
Your good will like the house should remain warm forever
Building relations that swell with time, etching in memory,
Getting transcended generation after generation after you

TEARFUL BID ADIEU TO A COMPASSIONATE  JURIST     

 

                         

This poem is in memory of late Justice V.R Krishna Iyer, Supreme Court Judge

Nobody is above Law, this  idiom  always holds true to its word  everywhere
The law makers should realize that there must be a human element,as well,
Jurists should see the two sides of the coin while reading out the judgement,
Crimes still do recur everywhere  even when capital punishment is in vogue.

How many years we live is  secondary,how we lead it, is the query before us,
Quoting a famous poetic truth,if one can relieve others pain,it is truly divine,
Fighting for a human cause,even  for a convicts’ plight is, indeed  incredible,
We should adore and worship him,and try to emulate his legacy in principle.

Born to a jurist,became a supreme one,and a born fighter always to the core,

He lived on principles, stood firm for the downtrodden and for true justice,

Ruled the state with conviction,compassion was his forte till he breathed last,

Ever a crusader against injustice,  even if it’s to a capital punishment convict.

He was a great thinker, with sound memory ,and indeed  humane to the core
Truly a  family man,a loving  husband, a selfless social thinker par excellence  
In  his demise the state and the nation lost a pioneer ever ready to champion,
The cause of the poor, a jurist non pareil, and a  lofty politician  without bias.