Retd Indian railway official, aged 80 plus, settled in Bangalore, India, interests - reading & writing poems. Love feed back.

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  • raghavendran 1d

    Plight of City Cow

    Writersnetwork - Thank you very much for the repost of the poem.

    Times of India, 25th Feb. 2021, Bangalore edition, page 6

    71 kg of plastic, metal found inside cow's belly in NCR.

    "A surgery on a cow that was injured in an accident in Faridabad threw up a stark reminder of Indian cities' continued struggles with plastic waste and littering. Veterinarians who operated on the animal for about 4 hours on Monday found 71 kg of plastic waste and other non- biodegradable substances like needles, coins, pieces of glass, screws and pins in its belly.

    The surgery was successful, but the cow is not out of danger yet. 'The next ten days are going to be very critical', said doctor Atul Maurya, who was part of the three member team that performed the surgery on the seven year old animal.


    Dr. Maurya said it took nearly four hours to clean the four chambers of the animal's stomach that mostly had polythene."

    A story woven out of the above incident and presented as a poem. It is an undeniable fact that in many overcrowded cities where there are no grazing meadows, cows are left to fend for themselves by eating whatever they find on cities' garbage-littered roads.


    Plight of City Cows

    I am an illiterate poor cow,
    The Lord did not on me sixth sense endow,
    I could not decipher the signal
    And it became my near death-knell.

    A fast-moving vehicle knocked me down,
    The driver sped fast with a frown
    Cursing me for crossing the road
    When the bright red signal glowed.

    Some good samaritans took me to hospital
    Since they knew immediate attention was vital
    My condition was very grave,
    The doctor patted me and said "be brave".

    I had acute pain in my stomach
    Caused by the accumulated muck,
    What can I do, a helpless mammal
    And a mostly neglected chattel.

    After my udders are drained empty,
    My master shows me no pity,
    He drives me out of the shed
    And towards the city roads I head.

    Hunger drives me to eat garbage
    Which is full of rotten tomatoes and cabbage,
    All of them mingled with everything
    Like plastic sheets, nails and metal rings.

    When dusk falls, I am remembered
    After I have all the filth devoured,
    I am taken back to the shed
    By the merciless biped.

    I am needed for the yield of milk
    For his family, trade and buttermilk,
    I could not suckle my newborn,
    Deprived of mothers milk, he was gone.

    Cows are worshipped everywhere,
    He professes he does truly care,
    Believe him not, he is a liar,
    Let me vent my ire.

    The doctors did a spendid job,
    Together with the nail-embedded cob,
    They removed a huge load of waste
    Which had turned a stinking paste.

    I heard it took them four long hours
    Calling all their expertise and powers
    To clean up my stomach entire
    Before to their chamber they did retire.

    I will be critical for ten more days,
    It is what the surgeon says,
    If I do survive by god's grace,
    I will urge my master to mend his ways.

    Raghav R

  • raghavendran 4d

    The Lord and the Makeup Artist

    Disclaimer. This poem has nothing to do with propagation of religion or faith, theism or agnosticism, nor does it support proselytising or converting. It is a literary work of fiction and is aimed at entertainment and experiencing a change of scene in our mundane life.


    A play was being staged in an auditorium which was full to its capacity, for it was a play much acclaimed for the theme and its presentation.

    The stage decor and the makeup of the characters of the play were the highlights and most talked about.

    In one scene, a bride groom seeks the blessings of the Lord before he weds his heartthrob.

    What happens thereafter is the crux of the poem.


    The Lord and the Makeup Artist

    He was a man of astounding calibre,
    One who could replicate a flawless Excalibur,
    Change one in the first flush of youth
    Into a being most horrible and uncouth.

    He was a wizard with unmatched skill
    Who could transform a Bill into a Jill,
    He was a magician of the highest order,
    None could equal him despite trying harder.

    In the glamorous world of show biz,
    And in the 'make-believe' art of his,
    He was the uncrowned king of his trade
    And a name for himself he had made.

    In the course of a play, it so happened
    An actor of 50 plus had to be fashioned
    To look truly like the Lord of Heaven
    Entailing a labour of hours seven.

    When the human Lord emerged from the green room
    And walked onto the stage to bless the groom-
    An actor seeking the blessings of the Lord-
    The audience believed they were seeing the real god.

    By the Lord's divinely appearance enchanted,
    The mesmerized audience their prayers chanted,
    When the human God turned to bless the spellbound audience,
    Their faces glowed in an unearthly radiance.

    The chants and prayers heavenward spread,
    The Lord, with his power, the source easily read,
    And flew to the earth mighty pleased
    To bless the devouts once their prayers ceased.

    The Lord saw the glittering decorated stage
    When on the human god his eyes did engage,
    He was stunned to see his own version
    Created by one skilled in the art of conversion.

    Into the green room, the Lord entered
    Where He, the artist par excellence, encounterd
    And made himself seen only by the artist
    Who was acknowledged as the greatest.

    Perplexed at the sight of the Lord,
    The artist unable to utter a word,
    Stood motionless on the ground
    Like a ship that had run aground.

    Seeing the man standing mute,
    The Lord understood his predicament absolute,
    In a voice that instilled courage in the man
    The Lord spoke in a language simple and plain.

    "God could not be everywhere,
    This view of the poet, I do share,
    So your creation of God at will.
    I adore and applaud your skill.

    By your wondrous skill and art,
    You have gladdened my heart,
    People will now see more of me
    On the earth wherever they be.

    By Heaven's established protocol,
    No God ever goes for a stroll
    In the vast realm of divine creation
    Even for a little recreation.

    Some question the existence of god,
    For they say they haven't seen the Lord,
    But Omnipresent He is, they know not,
    He appears to them when faithfully sought.

    You strengthen the believers' faith,
    It is what this Lord saith,
    Go on with your wondrous and noble art,
    Which enthrones God in everybody's heart.

    Thou shalt be my PRO on earth
    Or my ambassador till your last breath,
    May thou continue thy divine deed,
    There will be Heaven on Earth, indeed".

    Raghav R

  • raghavendran 5d

    Jumpy and Bumpy:
    (A poem for children)

    A pumpkin called Pumpy
    And a lambkin called Jumpy
    Met on a mountain road
    Where Jumpy with Pumpy had a word;

    “Will you race me down
    Right up to the town;
    It’s not so very far,
    Do you agree with me, Sir?”

    Pumpy thought for a while,
    “Sure Sir,” said he with a smile,
    ‘Let’s start the game
    And see who wins the fame”

    Both started their run
    It was all in good fun;
    Jumpy began his race fast,
    He knew Pumpy wouldn’t last.

    A little way ahead turned he
    To look at where was Pumpy;
    Pumpy was a little behind,
    Jumpy ran back with a word kind.

    “Hi! Pumpy, make haste,
    Don’t your time waste,
    If you want to win”,
    Said he, with a grin.

    The race started again
    With sweat making a stain
    On each hot and steamy face,
    Both running at their own pace;

    Soon Pumpy came very near,
    Jumpy’s face showed fear,
    He jumped to a height
    To show his grit and might;

    He kicked Pumpy by mistake
    Which made Pumpy overtake;
    The kick was so very hard
    Pumpy rolled down yard after yard;

    Pumpy rolled down so fast
    He made Jumpy reach last;
    Both stood gasping for breath,
    Jumpy in gloom and Pumpy in mirth;

    Defeated in the game
    And himself to blame,
    Returned home our Jumpy
    With a face grim and grumpy.

    Raghav R

  • raghavendran 1w

    Insect Parents Teach their Offspring

    Mosquito mom and dad looked askance
    At their children's total ignorance,
    The parents were veterans and shrewd
    And everything in the right perspective viewed.

    The two young ones, with wings aflutter,
    Had just emerged from the smelly gutter
    To seek the blessings of their mom and dad,
    Which deed made their parents very glad.

    Both the parents, happy beyond measure,
    Saw their youthful children with pleasure,
    "Oh, my lovely children, bold and strong,
    Don't in every direction fly headlong.

    Always be together and close-by,
    Never far from each other's eye,
    In numbers lies safety, it is said,
    Preserve this in your head till you fall dead.

    Avoid making a noise if you can,
    And don't fly under the ceiling fan,
    Your flight plan will then go awry,
    If you get too close, you will die.

    Beware while flying at night
    When off will be every light,
    You may be caught in a spider's web
    And slowly will die in the cobweb.

    Like humans and animals, we can't eat,
    Or drink the juice that flows from the teat,
    Our food is the incarnadine human blood
    That keeps flowing till they are dead.

    We live on liquid food which is blood
    From humans mainly asleep in bed
    Or from animals asleep or awake,
    At dead of night or at day break

    Don't choose strong men or women,
    They are as powerful as a demon,
    Their reflexes are unbelievably fast,
    If you try, you will breathe your last.

    Newborns or very young ones shouldl fit the bill,
    Or the very old ones who are irrecoverably ill,
    They can't ever harm you,
    Keep this practical advice in view.

    But don't choose a child near its mother,
    You'll then have to face tough weather,
    If the child wakes up and cries,
    The consequences may not be nice.

    Choose to alight on legs or feet
    From where you can easily retreat,
    See their hands cannot reach you
    And remain hidden from their view.

    Any animal you can freely choose,
    Like the one that neighs or moos,
    But keep distance from their energetic tails,
    Lest your life with one swish they curtail.

    Don't venture into a mosquito net,
    There is absolute danger, I bet,
    Getting in, you may find easier,
    But once in, only the Lord is your saviour".

    With their head filled with advice
    Which to a lifetime will suffice,
    The two young ones took off in style,
    Leaving their watchful parents senile.

    Raghav R

  • raghavendran 1w

    Ghosts in the Mind

    My childhood fears were strengthened by my dear friend who was a believer in ghosts and spooks and who exaggerated everything.    This poem traces how we got over such fears when we saw the beggar fully safe and happy under the very tree where a ghost was supposed to live and haunt the passers-by.

    Ghosts in the Mind

    It was a huge tamarind tree,
    Very old it was supposed to be,
    Some said it was a hundred years old
    And many tales about it were told.

    “The tree houses a ghost,
    I do not about it boast
    For I’ve seen it thrice
    With my own eyes.

    He had a little black horn
    And his red eyes shone
    Like a flaming torch
    Carried by men on the march.

    He’s active from dusk to dawn,
    My advice please don’t scorn,
    Do not walk past the tree,
    You’re not from danger free”

    Thus warned my friend dear
    Whose words caused fear,
    My brother and I were dumbstruck
    As though brushed by a speeding truck.

    The tree scared us to death;
    We used to hold our breath
    Even when we walked by day
    And turned our glances away.

    One fine day a beggar came-
    Frail and lean of frame-
    And under the tree hitched a tent
    With which he seemed content.

    For years he spent his life
    In the company of his young wife,
    Kids came along adding spice,
    They enjoyed a life very nice.

    Puzzled were my friend and I,
    They didn’t our story buy,
    Challenging us to show the ghost
    About which my friend did boast.

    The beggar laughed and said
    “Remove the fear from your head,
    It’s a creation of your own mind
    For the ghost I never did find.

    Everything seems a ghost in the dark,
    Be it a bat hanging in the park,
    Or a fluttering piece in the alley
    Or the trees swaying in the valley”.

    The beggar was truly right,
    He removed the fear and the fright
    That clouded our befuddled brain,
    We became confident once again.

    Raghav R

  • raghavendran 1w

    A Crusader Educates Ants and Bees

    A crusader woman urges 'Ants and Bees' to wake up to the present reality that even in the animal empire (which is now called animal Kingdom), the name should be changed to "Animal Queendom" ,as there had never been a 'Kingdom' in the Ants' and Bees' empire, that only Queens rule over their subjects and hence it is high time the change was effected without any delay.

    A Crusader Educates Ants and Bees

    Oh, tiny ants and tiny bees!
    Would you tell me the secret, please,
    How your empire is ruled by a queen
    And a king ruling it, is never seen.

    Is it not a blatant misnomer
    To call it a 'Kingdom' over and over;
    By the queen's sceptral power and truth,
    It should be 'Queendom', for sooth.

    Oh, the fiesty Queen of the clan!
    March with your subjects with elan,
    Calling for a rebellion unique
    And renaming vociferously seek.

    When there will be no king forever,
    Let it be called a Kingdom never,
    Is it the scheming males of your clan
    Who have hatched a cunning plan?

    In the world peopled by men and women
    Where queens are not found often,
    'Kingdom' has come to stay,
    But in your empire, keep it at bay.

    Tell those who have studied your empire,
    What is your alrdent desire-
    That they should call it 'Animal Queendom'
    And never by the chauvinistic 'Animal Kingdom'.

    'Political Correctness' cannot be given the go- by,
    Why should anyone feel shy
    To practice what is indisputabley right,
    Warn them that in the world forum you'll fight.

    Let there be unquestioned women power
    Lasting for eons and for ever and ever
    At least in your realms far and wide
    Investing the women on earth with pride.

    Raghav R

  • raghavendran 2w

    Journey through a Desert

                    Journey through a desert

    Vast expanse of endless sand
    Greets you in the desert land,
    Wherever your eyes turn
    To the endless sand they return.

    Horizon kisses the sand on all sides,
    Ocean of sand everywhere, nothing besides,
    Sand dunes sprout their heads
    As each traveller his way threads.

    Desert storm rushes in great speed
    Tossing into the sky sand and weed
    Causing a sand dune where there’s none
    And flattening the dune where there’s one.

    Somewhere is the oasis, a sort of lake
    Where travellers their thirst slake,
    Water, trees and the lush greenery
    Provides them with exquisite scenery;

    Ship of the desert, the ever-present camel,
    A sturdy and dependable mammal,
    Waits with patience and grit
    Ever ready to move and perfectly fit;

    Burning heat wraps one in a shroud
    Like a rebellious surrounding crowd,
    On and on move men and the camel,
    The anxious men and the doughty mammal.

    Robed from head to toe,
    Camels marching in a neat row,
    Travellers brave their way,
    Riding along night and day;

    The sun relinquishing its hold,
    Like mist, down comes the cold,
    The desert is no longer hot,
    But in the grip of cold caught;

    The orange sun brightens the sky,
    The desert comes alive by and by,
    The relentless march begins again,
    Men and the beast their journey begin.

    Raghav R

  • raghavendran 2w

    You'll Never Be Old Again

            You’ll Never Be Old Again

    Are you feeling bored and dull?
    Then sit for a while and mull
    Why you have become so,
    You’ve let the child in you go!

    Are you past sixty or seventy
    Or perhaps more, say eighty?
    Let not your age matter
    Or if your physique is not better.

    View the world with a child’s eye,
    Your despondency will be a far cry;
    Feel everything with a child’s heart,
    Try this attitude for a start.

    The world will look fresh and new
    And present itself in a delightful hue;
    Full of joy will your life be,
    Your days one of mirth and glee.

    Let the child in you be born again,
    You’ll only gain in the bargain;
    Your life will never be weary
    Nor your live-long days dreary.

    Raghav R

  • raghavendran 2w

    Forgotten Origin

    Forgotten Origin

    Flying amidst the fluttering leaves
    The butterfly did see,
    A caterpillar crawling up the tree,
    Looking ugly and most frightening,
    With its bristling needles
    And huge bulbous eyes;                 

    “O! How ugly you look
    And how frightening you’re!
    Show not thy face
    Lest you scare the human race,
    Away, away, to a hiding place
    And venture out never again;”             

    An old owl on the tree
    Heard what the butterfly said;       

    “O! Butterfly dear,
    You know not what you say,
    For you’ve no memory
    Of your own origin
    And how a butterfly beautiful
    You have now become;                 

    You were a caterpillar once
    Just like the one you cursed-
    Ugly and frightening-
    But by Nature’s miracle,
    You came out a butterfly
    Tearing your silvery prison
    To emerge with colourful wings
    And enchant the human eye”           

    O! No, the butterfly cried in alarm,
    “How can it to be so?
    Believe it I can't'

    The owl answered in a voice
    That rang true and confident;

    “Trust me and suspect not,
    For I’ve seen you
    Right on this very tree
    Where I’ve lived thus far,
    Crawling all along
    Till you into the cocoon           
    Hid yourself for long
    Only to emerge a while later
    A butterfly beautiful,
    That is what you are now”

    The butterfly fell into a deep thought
    And with its mind in a whirl,
    Flew up searching for the caterpillar
    With a contrite face
    Only to see her
    Covering herself in silver yarn
    To escape the ridicule
    Heaped on her
    Not very long ago.

    Raghav R

  • raghavendran 2w

    Brothers Two

                            Brothers Two

    Brothers two they’re, a year apart,
    Four and Five, lovely and smart;
    It’s a joy to watch them play,
    Pain when they each other slay.

    A toy uncared lies near the door,
    The one who is just four
    Hastens to have the toy;
    The other too wants it, O! Boy.

    Screams and shrieks rend the air;
    Neither the toy would share;
    “Either it’s all for ever mine
    Or, if you dare, will be thine”.

    Ensues a hard-fought battle;
    Neither would amicably settle;
    The toy suffers the most;
    It becomes a frightful ghost.

    It flies back to the door again
    Torn, disfigured and slain;
    The four and the five glance at the toy;
    Shriek and shout in inexplicable joy.

    The younger slyly walks to the door
    To pick up the toy lying on the floor;
    While the younger holds it by the head,
    “I want it the whole”, the older said.

    Shouts and screams fill the room
    The sounds echo to a deafening boom,
    The two are once again at war;
    Peace and quiet are yet too far.

    Raghav R /P.com