A STOLEN WATCH AND A MATCHLESS ACT…

                                            ... Sublime tribute to all my teachers

My job or my name not the topic of concern here,

An invitee for my bosom friend’s nuptial function, 

Yours truly arriving early, on time to be there, 

My role, welcome the invitees for the reception . 

   

An old man in his late seventies, too  arrived on time, 

The sight of his gait and height, triggered my brain,  

He was our teacher in secondary school, in his prime,

Memory in rewind, I was rushing to meet him again.

We exchanged the civilities, I queried his memories, 

Firstly giving my years under his tutorship and all,

Reviving an incident in the class, stirring  his queries,

He recollected the same after a few minutes in stall.

A mate in my class, lost his new wrist watch one day,
A  watch, his first one  in those rare  days of yore,

Was  missing after the luncheon break to his dismay,

The teenager was yelling in agony as never before.

This teacher entered the class, clueless to this plight,
After a moment of silence, consoled the crying  boy,

Boys in my class ordered to stand up, I lost my sight,

 Oh! The watch in my pants, I was  a frightened toy.

Plead for a watch a week ago, my parents negated,

Found this watch from a play area, kept in my pant,

Teacher ordered  everyone to keep our eyes closed, 

Fears of  humiliation and theft  was too imminent. 

Teacher searched all and asked us to open our eyes,

The teacher all in smile, showed the shining watch,

He never looked at me, yet the boy got his lost gift,

Till this day, none yet knew who stole the watch.  

This was the teacher I met after two decades today,

Who saved my blushes, transformed my  character,

Was a different boy thereafter, never once astray,

This act of his taught me lessons, one after another.

Remember, once caught red handed in every  crime,

Demoralizes the victim before the society as well, 

After my schooling, I forgot  this man of sublime,

Until this day, his nobility indeed reigned my will.

    

As I narrated  the  incident, his face  did beam in joy,

I couldn’t hide my feels, how he traced  the snatch,

Knowing the truth, why did  he hide to save my day,

Teacher said, he too never knew who had the watch.

I was bewildered, asking him, how it did happen,

The teacher was calm and firm in his answer too,

How could one see, when his eyes were closed then,

None saw, yet the  owner got the lost watch too.  

 

The sculptor, here, shaped the raw stone to remodel,

Chiseling the edges, infusing life into it to perfection,

Correcting the flaws, instilling  moral values to citadel, 

My doubts answered for ever, I revere thy profession.                

MIRROR SYNDROME

Rewound  my yester years when I read this word mirror, in fact,

May be five  then, when I saw my own face in front of a piece,

Myths prevailed those days, kids oft pulled away from this act,

Custom continues in some parts of our country, please excuse.

Umpteen times we all stood, before that wonder piece of silica,

Dressing, rehearsing, beautifying the dress or the facial touch,

Handled many a time as an oculist, screening eyes with  myopia,

Never ever heard such a giant killer of fetuses, rare, I vouch.    

This pregnant lady in her twenties, primi as we call for that stage,

Bloated, swollen feet and an unusual tummy of second trimester,

No ails until this phase, the worries of miscarriage looming large,

Scanned, scoped and tapped the amnion, to avoid the disaster.

Many brains shook  to ponder the cause, the uterus was high up, 

Amniotic fluid aplenty , swollen placenta and the  fetus in distress,

Maternal edema down, coins  the mirror image fetal edema up,

Placental edema making the triple edema adding to the stress.  

                        

Ballantyne’s syndrome was henceforth given the new  sobriquet, 

Cause unknown, fetal teratoma, Rh factors, or a fetal anomaly, 

May have a say, yet the medical fraternity needs a bouquet,

The real mirror of a clinician is curing every  case in jeopardy.  

Here a doctor outscores  other  technical men in any field of life,

This case, none predicted this much, save, a routine parturition,

Yet the glory uncertainty of child birth, and obstetrical strife,

We, yours truly included bow ourselves before, for their elation

  A TOWER-ING EXPERIENCE

   

 

Memories flashed upon my inward eye, yet again,

Sight of this giant species, indeed a spectacle,

Anytime, anywhere, breathtaking, never  in refrain,

For a sexagenarian, it remains still a receptacle.

The stimulus, a report, about these moving towers, 

The giraffe paradox, my batch mates’  reference, 

This ignition, fueling the tiring weekends’powers, 

A comparison  with human heart  in preference.  

We feel, ignorance is bliss, even worse, this reveals,  

Dwarfed  at times, aren’t we!, many  a time every day,

Many a thing we see, yet we never bother  the scales, 

So, giraffe will detail his vital statistics to our dismay. 
                                     

The tallest mammal on land, Oh! thrice your height,

Two hundred stones and heavier than my fair lady,

Neck, my supreme organ, two feet long serves right,  

Nuchal thrust aids my feast, leaves falling as prey .  

                            

Purplish prehensile tongue, imparting  powerful ways,

Leaves helping me instead, giving me  the hydration,

Few sips here and there quenches my thirst, for days,

Long neck helping the natural pollen dissemination,

Heart, my power horse, pumps one liter every second,

Ten times your own heart’s power, indeed  a miracle, 

The jugulars with valves prevent a vascular rebound,

The rete mirabile  stalls the fluctuant cerebral debacle. 

These ossicones, I gain more over her for supremacy,

Horns help me ‘Necking’ her in the duel that ensues, 

She conceives mostly once in her life time, for months,

Fifteen months gestation, my baby falling from height.  

                                 

Our kids mostly die in first year, once born, active soon,

I consume more, seventy pounds every day, all leaves,

I do have four chambered stomach, I take heavy lunch, 

 My speed, over thirty miles, leaves you gasping for sure.

 I know I am hunted, yet ,face to face, I can even kill a lion,

Unlike you, I live only half your life, my sojourn so short,

I score over  you, so much, our  lady feeds  many a calf,  

We move as tower, stand tall in charisma, how about you?  

Note: 

one stone  equals 14pounds, tower = usually they move in a group of giraffe,   ossicones means rudimentary horns,  necking =pushing  the female with horns,calf pool = all female giraffe feeding  any calves irrespective of  original mother 

FOR A MOONLIGHT DINNER

 

 

Moon, for centuries the cynosure of many an Indian bedtime fable,
Babies too, like phases of the moon’s bimonthly beguiled stage,
Incessant cry a minute,laughter in the next,reasons so unstable,
To everyone’s delight,moon is the darling of many a space voyage

Fifty years had gone by,when the human feet grazed its surface,
Paving  the way to explore the myths about the earth’s satellite,
Thus began the race, nations queuing up their research space,
Our nation,not far behind,started its venture,with all its delight.

Fourth nation to achieve the feat, now we’re a dozen years hence,
Stage one, set eyes on south pole, polar study and its chemistry,
The venture and the discovery of water,a triumph to be in precise,
Giving hopes for future missions,yet failed after one year history.

Phase Two,was in real earnest,took wings and launched recently,
Targeting the side of lunar surface and to study the lunar day,
We pray and hope the almighty, the mission to end successfully,
For its success will skyrocket Indian space research in a big way.

LEST  WE  FORGET OURSELVES…A REMINDER

 

The medical men oft think, they’re super humans ,so nonpareil,

True, they are the diamonds, cut above the rest and uncut too,   

When the sails are blown off, they restore the sick back on trail,

May be their acumen brings cheers on the kith and kin too.

Their memory is worth a research stuff, yet they too suffer its loss,

One of their cult had this doubt, more in mind than he did fathom,

This sailor had  lost his track, having  gathered most of the moss,

Worried eyes spoke volumes, the distraught mind hidden in them,

Sought advice from his bosom friend, amidst a growing fear around,

Tests that followed laid  all doubts to rest, the solace never in astray,

Neurons link  human brain to every event, are intricate and sound, 

Question remains, where in the brain the memories remain and stay.

 

Browsed the net time and again ,the site of the memory still at large,

Hundred billions, their synapses and  thousand terabytes ,so huge,

Encoding, retrieval  chemically and electrically in combine on stage,

Make  entire acts so difficult to assimilate or understand in refuge.

 

The best we can do, forget all these neurons, forget their complexities,

Live in the present, enjoy and relax, the advice by the neurons to thee, 

So did the friend advise the hapless medico friend of these realities,

Hope this solace will not be forgotten by all, relax, forget thy worry

     

PENCILLING MY PENSIVE THOUGHTS……. 

 

New  inventions galore, yet the world existed even before,

Things that helped us for centuries, now in total oblivion

Aids us to write, communicate and teach others for sure,

One such is the slender pencil, hear its laments in verse. 

 

Seven inches, my standard height , you can say that way,

One fourth  an inch, my girth, no choice, you  prefer less,

Dressed in different stripes of color, much to your liking,

One end has a rubber sleeve, again to erase your blemish.  

My heart is graphite, the central core, can write volumes

No charm to boast of, yet I do express through my heart,

Deliver boldly and beautifully, thanking the shrewd user,

Need a godfather like you to fathom my heart to the hilt.

 

Oft lying idly, once sharpened, I start to write your heart,

Needs a constant cajole, I get blunt, thanks to all thy skill,

Constant sharpening doubles my potency, cheating none,  

Never grumble when over used or underused till my death. 

 

Advancing Science did hasten my exit, hear my death knell,

Have sorrows and shortcomings, none is perfect though?

You medicos and I share and differ  some same emotions,

May sound ridiculous, yet some way I feel proud and elated.   

 

Our hearts appear tough but do spring to help the needy, 

Our service age related, making an impression razor sharp,

Exterior may deceive the eyes, hides a helping heart within,

My skills on constant sharpening, so do thy knowledge too.   

 

We differ, in your services oft laudable, and non erasable,

Mine, short lived, fades , yet dependable in emergency,

Never do I stain thy stature or stain thy attire and unselfish,

Message is clear, I am your servant, ready to obey its master,

World hath seen many rebirths, once discarded comes again, 

We pedaled crazily the tricycle, only to thrive on a bicycle later, 

The mopeds reformed our lives, the riches sought the limousines,

The lazy hearts took its heavy toll, now they walk for health.

 

Men may come, men may go, I go on forever, an old saying,

Yours truly three centuries old, my job now, is one of a spare,

Amongst the greats, though idling, do serve once in awhile,

Like a bicycle, my rebirth will come soon, I do crave thy care.

POLITRICKS – POLITICS, WITH MANY A TRICK UP THE SLEEVE
  
Scientists think-tank in their annual meet had indeed a weird thinking
To know the genetic pedigree of men in politics, was the main subject,
Whether their genes carry a trait, an ever eluding enigma, so amusing,
Why them, also pondered many a level headed scholars in total abject.
 
Whoever put this idea, had a laugh within, in a lighter vein in repeats.
This perplexed many a scientist abroad to have their nose sharpened,
Recently the American President was serving food to all in Id feasts
Will this ever occur in India, the patriotic fans getting disheartened.
 
Can this happen in our country with no escorts, no fanfare or tantrum,
These men are a different breed, their descriptions beyond dictionary.
Seen everywhere, like the air we can feel them, we cannot hold them,
You may be his neighbor, feigns as your friend, yet never in necessity.

They have enormous memory of oft repeated events of their enemies,
Forgetting the commonest ones, their diary holding all the vital events.
They preside over and talk in academic meets with consummate ease,
They are usually school discards, branded illiterates or recycled brains.

Once a minister wanted more such ports when praising road transports,
Many of them do not know the commonly known words or disciplines,
These gentlemen often clad in white, extraordinarily stiff and in pleats,
The dress codes may vary from state to state, motives all in same lines.

They show enormous energy to convene conventions and party meets
Field time for fund collections, just a call over mobile to all the donor,
The funds arrive in stacks in return for resolving the donor’s quagmires
A transfer to the place of choice, a promotion to a higher post in tenor.

Their modes often differ, moods differ, offers differ, coffers swell later
For selection of state job or advantage post- retirement conundrums,
Favors may appear natural, yet the repercussions do echo much later,
Always have the henchmen with imposture of  his deceitful intentions.

Marriage halls too their place of  choice, arriving  at break neck speeds,
Meets people, lamenting and cementing his business of future offers,
Handling the garlands to the couple, at times and posing too for snaps,
Hoping to refresh his presence and ensuring routes for his new coffers.

Most of them do join the ruling party or break away  to form a portion,
Interest always eyeing for power within, at best, aiming a pivotal  post ,
One  moment of discontent  is just enough to flare up their intention,
Alphabets are ready to coin the existing ones, attaching to their toast.

Gone are the days of, country above self attitudes, here we too partake,
Agreed.the prime posts indeed never come easily, so too power and pelf,
As a profession it has  always to be admired, the whole nation is at stake,
Now Politricks  at a low ebb, the need is a father of the nation above self.

    
BEATS IN SOLO RHYTHMIC BALLET
                                      ...the lament of a heart in systole

Great men with my know how, in my presence world over,
Sit around soon to celebrate, dissect me too undercover,
Queries, theories honored on paper, to allay human fear,
Welcome you all, Wait, I’ve a message and advice ,dear.

I am one of those single workhorses of thy body in action,
Yet I differ, in working non stop ,even before you’re born,
Getting to work from day one, sans rest till my fibers last
From first month of gestation till you do breathe thy last.

Feed thy organs through aorta, my feeds the coronary way
Right cabins dutifully purify ,left carry the oxygen rich way,
Our beats differ, left ventricle  decides the final systolic rate,
Pump blood vigorously all day till breathing stops thy fate.

Never ever seen the world, lives in dark all through my life,
Never flutter or fret, even when you oft tend or end  in strife,
Beat faster, in thumping speed, oft regularly now and then,
Options always minimal for me, to relax and rest even then.

Your lifestyle of late pulls my purkinjees in a note of discord,
Last century better for me, leading them in rhythmic mode,
Now all in disarray, my existence too under close  scrutiny,
My feeders oft get clogged, lack of  exercise play the villainy.

Overworked, underfed, I do collapse under attack epithet,
I never attack anyone, still I do carry that bad sobriquet ,
Stents, diverting bye pass or a slaughter on my very heart,
Setting my feeders right for thy second innings onslaught.

I do lament ! I am yet to see a day out in thy sun for sure,
To see and teach you the essence of a healthy cardiac care
I yell in pain, my hands tied, listen healthy advice for sure,
Walk more, eat what’s needy, I’ll promise to work for ever

THE ZENITH OF ALL SACRIFICES  


                              

This poem is inspired by the news that  Late Mr. Simon Britto's was donated to a medical college for academic purposes.

https://www.thehindu.com/news/cities/Kochi/brittos-body-to-be-donated-to-mch/article25884818.ece    

  
We are born, all of us, naked  with no strings except the cord, 
 Growing, absorbing and acquiring  the earthly pleasures too, 
 Ambitions take wings, time and again, without any discord, 
 Never in our prime, do we think that our lifespan is short too.  

 Build castles on earth, more often in air, every now and then, 
 Little we do realize, we have a time bound stay here for sure, 
 Yet we have Himalayan ambitions for a five plus feet person, 
 We aim high, true to the word, often forfeit our tenure here.  

 Here is one comrade, who lived truly  for principles for years, 
 This verse not to pen his achievements, but saluting his wish, 
 On his death, the mortal remains must lie on anatomy table, 
 Letting the future medical graduates learn their skills afresh. 

We all salute his final wish, indeed a sacrifice for a noble cause, 
Think for a brief moment, the anatomy we did learn years back, 
We oft forget the cadaver on whom, our journey did cruise, 
Yet we boast our degrees, our achievements till we hit the sack.
   
Hold the scalpel to cut the masses, fully aware of our old anatomy, 
Forgetting that embalmed body, when our quest for degree began,  
A dead body destined to be the food for ants, here laid for nobility,  
Such unknown sacrifices  do help medical sciences to scale its peak.  

May his tribe increase! We all salute his noble wish in generous term, 
A time for introspection for us too, about sacrifices and their donor, 
A mother who carries the child in her aching womb for many a term, 
Never for a moment, she  thinks this or the aches and pains in labor. 

 Parents spare no pains, gearing the wards to fathom greater summit, 
 A teacher in any grade spills her knowledge to create a new disciple, 
 A true leader forgets his ills for the uplift of the country in his might, 
 A  food for thought, let our body sing our sacrifices after our demise.