Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Hamara Bajaj!!!

A whole generation grew up in the 60s, 70s and 80s, dreaming of owning it. Bajaj scooters, one of the aspirations of the Indian middle class for decades, will soon be a part of history.

After selling scooters for over 50 years, Bajaj Auto, the company which developed a scooter market with its popular Hamara Bajaj campaign invoking trust and reliability, announced sometime back that it is phasing out scooter production, keeping the focus on motorcycles.

This piece of news took me back to an era that seems so distant now. The good ol' days of Doordarshan and Vividh Bharati. The days when the only thing you saw on the roads were cycles, Luna, Bajaj scooter (Hamara Bajaj) Vespa scooters and TVS/ Avanti/ Suvega mopeds and cars like Maruti 800, Premier Padmini, Fiat, Contessa and Ambassador were owned by 'lakhpatis'. The same ol' days of frequent power-cuts and hence candlelight family dinners and then going up on the terrace and spending quality time together. When summer vacations were spent visiting your grandparents, watching rented movies on VCR, reading Enid Blyton/Tinkle/Champak and sending postcards to your cousins. Nostalgia :)

This one is another old poem and the difference in the writing style is painfully obvious with the efforts at rhyming. But I'm extremely attached to this poem because whenever I read this poem, I get fleeting images of my childhood. I'm sure anyone who has spent some part of his childhood in the late eighties or early nineties in India would be able to relate to this.

Come my friend and
take my hand,
We will travel back in time
to a distant land.

When we were young
and not so restless,
To the time when
we actually lived a life, Oh yes!

When we had time to meet
with friends.
When we were not worried
about fashions and trends.

When we used to look forward
to Sundays, so that Spiderman we could catch.
Or to wait for Thursdays and "Byomkesh Bakshi"
we could watch.

When we had courtyards and backyards,
and trees on which we could swing.
Songs with simple clean lyrics,
Songs we could sing.

When we used to play cricket under the midday sun.
The neighbourhood orchard we used to raid.
Carrying our school bag and bottle
waiting for the bus in the tree’s shade.

When the jokes, even if silly,
were simple and clean.
When we played with people
and not with machine.

When we knew our neighbours
and we actually took time to meet.
When eating out was not a way of life
but a special Sunday treat.

When there were no phones to call
friends and ask them if they were free.
We could drop by unannounced
without feeling guilty.

When we could ride our bicycles
on the road without worrying about the traffic.
When we believed in a falling star.
And the fairy tales and their world of magic.

When we looked up to our elders
and treated them with respect.
How far we have come from the life
that, though not easy, but yet was perfect.

I want to go back in time
to the good old days…
Do you want to come with me
to that glorious phase?

Friday, December 11, 2009

Love story of Sand and Sea..

Liquid sapphire married the cerulean sky,
Bond awesome, yet longingly she cried for me.
Far away I lay down sprawled across the beach,
Shore they call me- A poet lost in sad sleep.

All day long wailing from horizon’s abode,
Wave’s frothy kisses drench me, in her love white.
Brimming love when I etch, as poems on wet sands,
Splashing she washes, tearfully scared of sky’s might.

Sky darkened, clouds thunder as he knew our love,
Whips of lightning strikes my beloved’s brow.
Anger raging, my love lashes herself on cliffs,
Tried to kill herself; but thought of me then quit.

Crimson dusk seeping; tired now sky sleeps.
Yearning, gentle with love her tides on me softly creep.
Simmering in warmth of passion, as we made out,
Subtle moans echoed- my lips inscribed poems on her.

Morning smiled; arose the clear blue sky,
Dissolving, longing yet another day of wait.
Seagulls flying, cooing in tune to our nights song,
I’ll be here; coarse sands basked- fast dear come tonight!

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

A letter from the past...

Sundays are always reserved for cleaning up my room, cupboard and drawers and rummaging through my drawers always brings up some memorabilia that touches a raw nerve somewhere . I love keeping notes, letters, old photographs, cards and other stuff (which might seem like junk to other people) but never fail to bring back old memories. Today, I came across this really old letter that I had written for a loved one after we had decided to part our ways. My handwriting seems so different in this letter and it seems even more ancient because it has been written with an ink pen. Some of the words have faded and the letter seems all frayed with creases because of the numerous times that I have unfolded, read and then re-folded the letter to keep it back inside the envelope. I'm posting certain parts of the letter here because I felt like sharing it...

Incidentally, the letter was never read by the person whom it was written for. She sent back the letter without reading it :)


It's rightly said that you don’t know what you have until its gone. It’s also rightly said that words are a poor medium of expression. But I’ll still try to pen down those things that I could never express and which were left unsaid. How I wish time had stood still! How I wish you had heard the unsaid! How I wish that life wasn't so unfair! How I wish we could hold hands and live our dream again!How I wish I could be there when you really needed me! How I wish I could say that ‘sorry’ when it really mattered! How I wish I could take back those harsh words that I had spoken! How I wish I could give you that hug during all those lonely times! How I wish I could listen to the music of the stars with you again! How I wish I could whisper those ‘magical words’ when you really wanted to hear them!How I wish I could show you that you are my only one! How I wish I knew then that love is not just about caring, but also about sharing! How I wish I could get you to stay back when you loved me! How I wish I hadn’t been so blind to your true feelings! How I wish I had said and done those little things that really matter! How I wish I could undo all those things that went wrong! How I wish I had told you how happy I was that you were mine! How I wish I could see that warmth in your eyes again! How I wish you knew you were always on my mind! How I really wish I had spoken my silence in words…

Anyway, I won’t drag this letter too much. I won’t make it more difficult for you by talking about old memories. This letter is just a confession. A confession of my regret and a confession of my undying love. You must be wondering why I’m not sitting beside you while you’re reading this letter and watching you read. It’s because I’ve realized that I’ve wronged you and what would be worse would be to force you to come back, so I’ve left my silence and absence with you wrapped in this envelope until you wish to come back to me. I can only hope that you always remember me, remember us and the special bond that we shared. And as years go by, our paths will get separated, we might drift apart completely and we might never meet again, but if you ever think of me, will you remember that I love you very much?

Wishing you all the best in life,
Your Superman

Thursday, November 12, 2009

A costly city kiss..

Again, an attempt at something different :) I've tried to capture the New York nightlife of the yesteryears. The kind of nightlife that I've only read in books written by American authors like O.Henry. His 'The Cop and the Anthem' being a perfect example of that. This poem is dedicated to O.Henry, the man who introduced me to the beautiful world of witty short stories with the characteristic O.Henry twist ending :)

Shielding maddening spheres of life,
Idling melancholic needles of time,
Dwindling stress in remote corners behind,
Whistled away blues in the jazz of a pub.

Midnight calling of cathedral chimes,
Saxophone roars a sore penultimate tune.
5 Dollars on amber beer and ashen smoke,
Laden yet; Graven misery and growing paunch.

Gothic lovers lost in central park,
Snorting snuff and ringed tongues entwined,
Buxom harlots tempt beneath helium bright,
Pampering loners treading in city’s lights.

Fencing thoughts and gusty gale so might,
Waddling solitary in streets silvery white,
A feeling electric; suddenly arose alive,
As hands feminine grasped on mine tonight.

Shielding her from the flakes of snow,
An angel; Nay lady one of vibrant sight.
Feminine musk of vanilla blossoms myriad,
Brought coziness into my canopy’s delight.

She kissed; then merged onto subway crowd,
Happiness crept the barracks of my spine,
Feminity- thou art truly creations elixir,
Realized it vagrant; when groped purse same night.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

A Bumblebee's brush with death

Ok, I've tried my hand at something different here. It even has a moral that God cares for all his creations. I hope you like this poem. :)

Tangled in a wide spider web,
Struggled a big fat bee;
It buzzed and kicked in all its might,
But was sprawled in the cobwebs maze.

Far across, from a distant pole,
He saw those mighty legs;
Death crawling, with creepy eyes,
He knew of his helplessness.

Cornered, looked the poor sad bee,
Far into natures face;
The flowers blossomed in joy of spring,
Beckoned him all in glee.

Desired; yellow and brown stripped bee,
To fly in his state of bliss;
Kiss fresh daffodils in prime of spring,
And dance with his friends in hives.

Came the hairy giant spider,
Dressed in green fluorescent daze;
Poison glistening from her fangs,
She cocooned the fear filled bee.

Depressed, seeing the lush green grass,
Laid our beige sweet bee;
Poison surging through his veins,
He sat stiff; for impending death.

Soon, out from space somewhere,
Came forth the gardener’s hand;
Lashed his tool at the cobweb there,
And soon free, was our fine sweet bee.

Thank you readers :)

Yes, I am back! Posting after a few months! I would like to thank all my blog readers who have shown patience and kept dropping in comments. Its your positive comments that keeps encouraging me and motivating me to post in this blog. Otherwise I would have given up on this blog long time back, considering my time constraints and lethargic nature. I am extremely grateful to all of you and will try and get regular with the posts here as well :)

Monday, June 29, 2009

Memories in my hand..

Yes, this poem was one of my first few posts in this blog. I'm deleting that post and re-posting with a few changes here and there :)

A long forgotten letter,
With words faded…
Cos so many times they
Were, by my eyes, caressed…

A single red rose
With petals dried…
Nestled in my diary
Still smelling of July…

A sea shell locket
so pretty and shiny…
From the walk on the beach…
Still can hear the sound of the sea…

A shining rock
From the calm stream…
Ages have passed
But I still feel its gleam…

An old picture
Us, smiling, together…
Was it yesterday or a lifetime back?
Still such happy memories it stirs…

A brown twig
From our walk in the woods…
Can still smell the night…
Oh! How I wish the time stood…

But time didn’t stand…
It rushed past…
And I am left with my memories…
Holding them in my hands… hoping they will last…

Thursday, June 25, 2009

The Other Half...

Joined by bonds of timeless strands,
Joy married his bride Sorrow.
Deepening perspectives Sorrow paved,
The way; for overwhelming feel of Joy.
Indispensable pair thus cruised along,
Romancing in mortals’ sea of life.

Seeds died; saplings sprouted brought,
Harvest of golden grains to empty barns.
Dying to rise afresh with a new start,
Soaring spirit flew beyond mountain peaks.
Life and Death thus naughty siblings sang,
In an octave of philosophical magnitude.

Wailing hearts sighed, pain down toned,
As tearful pearls fell from string askew.
Laughter then tinkled in sounds of glee,
Synchronous with joy smiling deep within.
Intensity decisive in game of cubes,
Tears and Laughter played their dice.

Storms mighty tossed ships in seas,
Water possessed by devil’s paws.
Orange sun hovered over waters still,
Clearing skies, painting dreamy hues.
Noise and darkness said hope was there,
For silence and light to reign again.

Failures taught men how to strive,
To hunt high nested success down.
Joy and sorrow jiving to life’s songs,
Taught to cherish, with strength and ease.
‘Tis thus a fine true worldly norm,
Every element is void, without its other half.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

The Hiatus

Yes, my first poem after a really long time. So I thought I'll write a poem on the hiatus. I'm not very satisfied with this poem. I guess I'm still rusty from my long break. Anyway, do check up the poem and be generous in your comments :D

A deep slumber, a dead silence,
A lack of existence, black roses in remembrance,
An empty sigh, a lone tear in the eye,
An endless languor, an emaciated life,
An exile- by choice or by force?

Beyond the abyss, in the realms of passion,
The gurgle of thoughts, the unshackling of crippled emotions,
Erasing the calligraphy of nothingness, caressing the breath of imagination,
I give birth to myself, yes, once again.
Like a stream, my dreams flow free.
By choice not force!

Back to Blogging...

Yes, I'm back after a pretty long hiatus. My heartfelt apologies to all my readers and followers for not posting for so long and more so, those readers who left comments on my poems and I couldn't follow-up with them to express my gratitude. I have been busy with my studies and some other personal problems but now I'm back and hopefully will be posting more regularly :)

I would like to conclude by quoting this inspirational poem by William Ernest Henley which shall hopefully inspire me to come up with some meaningful poetry in the future :)


Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Au Revoir

Tooty fruity dreams.
candy floss wants.
Hiding and seeking
with a feeling
of wonder.

Believing with the
transparency of the

No bounds for the
hope, hope remained
free of shackles.

Scribbling on the sand,
flying kites,
and watching, as with them,
our delights soared high.

Forgetting the hurt in a
blink of the eye.
and keeping in mind
the joy of a hug,
and the bliss in a

Not doubting for a moment
the marvel, the magic,
told in tales of
the fairies.
Absorbed in innocence,
accepting the subsistence
of Santa, and his Rudolf,
with a nose like cherry.

The wonder of being
a kid, with the wonder
and the belief in
magic, in a heart that
is innocent.

I look around me now,
and find that the
scepticism has invaded
me, the wonder has
died, and the magic
is absent.

I sigh, and look behind
my shoulder, gazing
at the childhood that
seems afar.

And I wonder,
why, to my childhood, I said
goodbye, and not
Au Revoir.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Making Love...Haiku no. 7

Waves kiss basking sands,
I'll paint with my lips on ye.
Dear make love to thee !

The Rainbow...Haiku no. 6

Spectrum smiles in skies,
An effect so prismatic,
Makes me dance in glee !

Sunset Nears..Haiku no. 5

I know I haven't posted for almost a fortnight but I've been really busy with work :( Although, I've tried to make up for it by posting these 3 haikus.

Carmine skyline came,
Climaxed yet another day.
Soon nights curtain fell.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

So tired of trying...

So tired of trying,
Just want to be
A languid afternoon breeze,
A drowsy yawn,
A falling maple leaf,
on a dusky dawn.

So tired of trying
Just want to be
A forgotten lyric
A remembered fawn.
A pug-nosed sheep
With unkempt hair
and braided thoughts.

So tired of trying
Just want to be
An empty soul
An insignificant vowel
An umbrella torn on a rainy day..

So tired of trying
Just want to be
The next buffoon
The static nomad

So tired of trying
Just want to be
Left alone
No questions
No answers
No patience
No will.
So tired..
Dead tired.

Monday, January 5, 2009


You and I
Lying on the grass…
Looking up
And counting the stars…

Giving names
To one and each…
Lifting our fingers
Pretending, them, we can reach…

Sharing silly stories
Laughing like kids…
Being with each other
Filled with such bliss…

Looking together
In the same direction…
Sharing a dream
So near to perfection…

My arms around you
your safety, your shield…
Your soothing touch
My heart’s content and fulfilled…

We feign ignorance
To the moon’s descent slow…
Which will give way to tomorrow
When you will have to go…

Time we can’t enslave
But this moment we can save…
Like children
The moment we seize…
The feeling, the togetherness
In our memories we try to freeze…

The memories will be
Penned in my diary’s page…
So that they don’t vanish
I will keep them in cage…
When you far away,
When you are not near…
That page will be
Kissed by my falling tears…

Racism abolished.- Kyrielle(French) Sonnet

Yes, my tryst with experimentation continues. I've decided to try out a new form of poetry every month. This time, I've tried my hand at Kyrielle(French) Sonnet.

A Kyrielle Sonnet consists of 14 lines (three rhyming quatrain stanzas and a non-rhyming couplet).Just like the traditional Kyrielle poem, the Kyrielle Sonnet also has a repeating line or phrase as a refrain (usually appearing as the last line of each stanza). Each line within the Kyrielle Sonnet consists of only eight syllables. French poetry forms have a tendency to link back to the beginning of the poem, so common practice is to use the first and last line of the first quatrain as the ending couplet.This would also re-enforce the refrain within the poem. Therefore, a good rhyming scheme for a Kyrielle Sonnet would be:

AabB, ccbB, ddbB, AB -or- AbaB, cbcB, dbdB, AB.

Splendid floral stems, fresh in vase,
Unified vibrant visual treat.
Beautiful smiling; close they stood,
Relieved from tones of racism.

Feathers various; flocked up so close,
On wondrous flying albatross.
Warm calico; on her adorned,
Relieved from tones of racism.

White or black, or deep brownie hues,
Moulded us God, of the same clay.
Harmonious dwell; let’s today,
Relieved from tones of racism.

Splendid floral stems, fresh in vase,
Relieved from tones of racism.

Friday, January 2, 2009

The Beginning- Helen Steiner Rice

I wanted to start the year 2009 with an optimistic rhyme. Rather than starting the year with one of my silly rhymes, I thought I'll post a poem that has been written by one of my favourite poets of all time- Helen Steiner Rice. I've made some changes to this poem but they are negligible.

How often we wish for another chance
To make a fresh beginning
A chance to blot out our mistakes
And change failure into winning.

It will not take a new year
To make a brand new start
It only takes deep desire
To try with all our heart.

To live a little better
And to always be forgiving
And to add a little sunshine
To the world in which we are living.

So never give up in despair
And think that you are through
For there is always a tomorrow
And the hope of starting anew.
Creative Commons License
Poetry by Wandering Gypsy is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 India License.