A  Tribute to Eye Donation

 

[For Your Eyes Only]

 The value of sight, oft said is truly known

 When vision fades, and light has flown.

 An age-old truth, till now  shining bright,

 We yearn it most, what’s lost from sight

       

The cornea, strong and crystal clear,

Does most of the work, year after year,

No blood flows through its glassy dome,

Clarity makes it proudly roam in frame

         

Cornea  bears the brunt of every blow,

And scars can steal its vibrant glow.

A lifeless cornea truly leads the way

To gift another person the light of day.

 

Eye, the  first organ ever shared,

In transplant tales, it boldly dared,

Cornea serves beyond our breath,

A legacy that still conquers death.

 

Yet many of us miss this sacred grace,

Till darkness veils our inner space.

Let every eye, though closed in sleep,

Awaken sight where shadows creep.

              UNSEEN  SACRIFICES

Roses, my childhood dreams, in vision and in bloom,       

Gardening, a fleeting pastime, yet it failed to loom,

Mango, the next ambition, ventures met with strife,

Dreams fade away, reality sews its lessons tight.

 

Plant  a seed or a twig, Mother earth does the rest,

Beneath the soil in labors, unseen yet manifest.

Sacrificed days for a  shoot, longing for its rise,

Hopes faltered many times, garden visits left behind.

 

Worried for the growth above, neglecting roots below,

Unseen sacrifices forgotten, ignored, left in shadow,

Waited and failed, causes unknown,  mysteries  untold,

Retreats in sorrow, while career  graphs unfold  .

.

The roots  in darkness struggle, searching for a  way,

Anchoring deep in silence, resisting night and day,

Sleepless nights below, success unclear and uncertain,

Pair of leaves ushers joy, yet some vanish year by year.

 

Plants climb towards the sky, roots  relentlessly dig deep,

Leaves leap  for air, roots  thirst for water they keep,

We admire the fruit, untouched by the soil’s silent fight,

We  see colors in bloom , but forget the struggle of life.

 

Life moves on, some bask in sunshine, some fade in dark,

Some vanish without a trace, some never leave a mark,

Others chase  success, but the pathways stay unseen,

A lifeline never granted, dreams lost behind the screen.

 

Mango tree in my garden now, yet parent’s toil unknown,

A seed thrown carelessly, now  a tree thriving on its own,

My roses bloom in California, majestic, bold and bright,

Yet my garden here stands bare, its struggles out of sight,

 

 

Mango tastes sweet to all, its root’s  toil  always unseen,

Roses glow in color, yet my daughter never saw my pain,

Fame arrives for some, hidden sacrifices always remain,

The world  cannot exist, without effort’s silent reign.

 

 

 

 

A REIGN OF GAIN,,.A PAIN OF REIGN

My birth greeted with glee, the talk of the universe,

Colors dazzled the eye, wonderful  to sight with all thrills

Shapes and sizes amazing, were taken by surprise,

Born to serve the mankind, in all shapes and fills.

 

Bakelite was my grandpa, the polymers, my nucleus,

Myriads of monomers  and polymers, all in my spine,

Darling of the world over, my stature grew endless,

Pride of the nations, my strides indeed leaping fine.

 

Lifespan too long and toxic, guns now behind my neck,

Polymer my invincible foe, all sought  my extinction,

Every hand that fondled me, longed to see my back,

Strewn, crushed and mangled beyond recognition.

 

Designed to reign at birth, now arraigned to resign,

Better things in life, says nature, taste bitter in future,

Now recycled to push more in an untenable terrain,

Never be proud of your stars, humility is thy final gain.

 

 

 

A SINISTER SPECTACLE

 [eyes of a myopic boy expressing his agony

On a stroll, caressing  the morning waft, air so fresh and free,

A ritual now of healthy life, of heart, of whispered reverie,

Yet eyes stare upon me, sharp, assessing, tinted with scorn,

What marks me different? I oft wondered  adrift and worn.

 

I am the weight of his gaze, forever tether for all his gains,

An unseen, unsightly burden, yet vital as his sight wanes,

Without me, his world  blurred, mostly a distance unknown,

Myopia, a sinister affliction, his youth feels heavy, overgrown.

 

Born with a normal sight, gaze once small within normal range,

Rays of light in front of his foveae, brand him in myopic range,

Spectacles can’t  speak, let his eyes share  his woes, I am told,

In his teens, we stretched, his sight gradually failed many fold,

 

Lenses or contacts or lasers relieved his agony nevertheless

Pathological, they name and blame us, helpless and hopeless,

We stop our warp after eighteen, sometimes not so pleasant,

Overstretch, he feels now, precociously as a sinister variant.

 

We warped in excess, awkwardly, denting all his residual sight,

Jelly inside distorts, plagued by nasty floaters day and night,

Silent bleeds  block his sight, visual assault, his innate fears,

Our walls now weak, injury prone, betray him with aging years,

 

Stretches  worsen, tears, a feast of decay, a sight in distress,

Degenerations set in, Retinal lesions marked and oppress,

Suspended  in uncertainty, sight in peril, lenses fail to correct,

Worries  grow deep, his world in quiet descent and forever lost.

 

 

MY SWANSONG ..FOR YOU

KRISHNAMOORTHY

Mute at birth, my journey passed in silent, faithful ways,

In summer heat or winter chill, all with sleepless days.

No soul once paused to sense my plight or offer gentle care,

A fleeting touch, then gone again, as if I weren’t there.

 

I labored on without complaint, no kindness in return,

Your words  my daily bread, each note a love to learn.

Bore thy joy, grief and thy dreams, in sunshine or shade,

Weddings bells in heaven’s halls, I brought guests with pride.

 

Ferried death’s unspoken weight to places near and far,

My belly brimmed with lovers’ notes, their hopes in every scar.

Thunder’s roar and pouring skies, I never did turn away,

Yet I feel the end is near and my sun is set for my final day.

 

Rise of  Internet and mobile calls sealed my fate with speed,

Once full of life, I now stand bare, no letters left to read.

In crimson crown I ruled the streets, now rusted in disdain,

Will you not hear my swansong now, and feel my quiet pain?

 

So now I bow, with rusted frame, yet pride within my core,

For centuries long, held thy hearts, thy whispers, hopes, and more.

If ever once I made you smile, or eased a heavy load,

Then let me fade with quiet grace, along this winding road.

 

 

 

 A ROYAL BIRTH AND AN EARLY DEMISE

   

AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A 2000 RUPEE NOTE          

Every birth in nature, a gift to see the universe and enjoy,

World  welcomes every creature with glee and a blessing,

Inanimate, common to all factory born, so too yours truly,

Royal gestation and a tumultuous delivery, all bemusing.

 

Older discarded siblings , all despising me with a wry  grin,

Ignorant of their fate, or their sudden and untimely death,

Some razed by the fire, some never saw the world again ,

All the rest in an unknown terrain, yet I wasn’t dejected.

 

Hailed as a blemish less monarch, Oh I was on cloud nine,

Proud of my frenzied beauty, soon I hated my cousins’ ilk.

All rushing  to caress me, fondling me, every now and then,

Ecstasy  blinding my vision, poor cousins  in a jealous blink.

 

Rejoicing  an exalted status, despite warnings from within.

My ilk declined in number, handling  becoming a  burden,

Affluent continued to pile me, easier to handle me in bulk;

The poor hated me daily, all preferring my poorer cousins,

 

My toddler life was rosy, infancy and childhood all thorny ,

A life threatening fall in sight, all my cousins are laughing;

Immortal becomes a mortal, a fatal and a contagious one,

Asylum is the remedy, treatment of isolation in full swing.

 

My royal life and status cut short, amidst huge hue and cry

The rich, all awe struck. the poor unmoved, in a silent laugh,

My  cousins over joyous and celebrating my premature exit ,

Underdogs  now the rulers, my stocks now in a  fast tumble

 

With the rich, all my unseen populace explore a safer room,

Unsure of the  source, the rich  researching  my  exchange,

My days are numbered, so too of my  populace for the doom,

Pride goes before a fall, the proverb still  ringing in my ears,

 

 

            A SPECTACULAR SPECTACLE

        A Niagara  Experience  

 

                                                                                    

Water a solvent for many a liquid drug  to save a life,

Best medicine for many an ailment in many a show, 

Quenching the thirst in summer, soothes us in winter, 

When it pours  down, it is called rains, falls or snow.

Rains do hamper, snows disturb the movement, 

Falling  from a height, a sight oft fascinating,

Many a time a hard rock overlies a soft rock beneath, 

Creates an erosion  time and again  forming  a step.

Repeated erosions undermine the softer rocks below, 

Flow of water speeds the force in height and width,

Year after year this creates a wonderful spectacle, 

 A natural wonder we see and enjoy  as water falls.

One such falls straddles two countries, so strange,                 

Glaciers, great lakes, and the retreat of ice sheets, 

Tens of thousands of  years enabled its present show,

Spilling six million cubic feet every minute, a wonder,                                   

                                                                              

Sandwiched between cities of Ontario and  Niagara,

A sight to behold, three offspring’s  contained within; 

Horse shoe Falls, highlights the Canadian  domain,

American Falls, Bridal Veil  share the American pride,

Tourist far and wide, swarm to witness a great show,

More one watches this delight oft in stunned silence.

More are we proud of  the nature’s splendid wonder,

Such gifts of nature  linger in our memory  for ages.