The Painter

26th Nov 2004 is the date. There is also a small note in my book which says this poem was inpired by the movie 'kuch kuch hota hai'!

It was all at first , merry
What with red carpet and blue berry.
In his hand the 'To Paint' box shone,
And he thought of the red bow tie his son could own.
For it was the emperor who had asked him to make,
A potrait for his sake.

In a jiffy,brush and paint were out
Not distant was a cure for his gout.
The box he unsealed......
Oh!but to this he wouldn't yield.
Before him was the flag and the face,
The face which had deterred most of his race.

'Oh!My hand reaches not
But to the colours of what only my country's got'
The flag and the face, with tears, he flung
And to his leg something clung
A little hand that made him sigh
It was now stretched-'Papa,i know today you've got my bow tie'.

Night

It says 27th feb 2004 in my book. That's the date I wrote this poem.Atleast that is the day I made a fair copy of this poem.Well it was just there in my book and with no one to read it. So I thought why not post it here.

NIGHT

I see stars,
Through my window bars.
Glinting with them, the moon,
Hiding under the clouds and then appearing soon.
As if playing with a child,
The wind too with voice mild.
Sways in the dark night.
And there’s none else in sight.
It’s like a complete standstill.
Holiday even for the old mill.
I hark not a rattle,
And there isn’t a battle.
Ah! Such a delight,
Is this beautiful night.

Reading Minds

I woke up. It was still foggy outside and a slight weight seemed to heave down my heart. ‘What?’ I thought. Then I realized that I had done a terrible thing. It was just yesterday and my! It seemed ages ago!

I was still thinking what I should tell my boss 45 minutes later, trying to comb my reluctant needle hair. I abandoned trying and dressed up. And neat. I thought atleast I could appear neat. My heart was still pounding as it was already 10:00 clock. Late after the day of blunder. The blunder. Man! What a start! I thought. How would a bull-boss (as we all fondly referred to him) feel if his employee turned up late just the day after that…that…terrible thing?! I crammed a bit of toast hastily and ran to the bus-stop still wearing my socks as I ran or rather hopped single-leggedly!

Luckily (my first luck in many many centuries it seemed) I caught the bus early and reached my office. Standing outside the dreaded building I closed my eyes for a second. I visualized the situation. The confrontation scene. No. Either my concentration was terrible (as it has been since childhood) or the aura was terrible. Okay I agree my concentration was terrible. I could not even visualize good things happening to me. But the thing…ouch!... even the thought gives me pain… was already done. The only thing left to do was the climax. Escape.
If I had to get myself off this burden, I needed wit. Ah! Count me in for such a thing! I nodded to myself, opened my eyes, croaked my throat, straightened my tie and did all the preliminaries. And finally plucked up the courage to walk the ‘last mile’. I planted the dreaded file right up against my heart and walked.

I stepped into my office. The long corridor of doom loomed before me. On either side it seemed were the thorny bushes adorning the corridor of doom. In reality they were supposed to be my colleagues.

“Hey bro!”, said one of them. As if he meant it. And then came the missile from his mouth. He said, “I would get that off my chest before entering the Bull’s office mate.”
How did he know?!?! I thought no one in the world except me and him….o no! Did he? Could he? Could that idiot have told the boss too? Had he told everyone? How do I find out? If he had there was no way out. Should I accept my mistake? Or should I give it another shot? Such dilemma….
All of a sudden a woman just burst out of nowhere and blurted--“Sandwich?”

What the hell? I thought. How did she know I was in a sandwich? How did she know I was in a dilemma? Had all been taught witchcraft? Or perhaps mind-reading? He must have spilt the beans….

Oh my god! I never should have accepted the job. And it was me; I wanted this work… this particular project. I went begging for this project. I should have been content with what I had. Why did I want it?

“That’s what happens when you try to take in more than what you want. Too much on your plate dude?”, said another man sipping his instant coffee rather mockingly.
Do I need to say anymore? He knew just what I was thinking! Oh my god! What would this thing do to my career? Would I get another job? It will always remain as a black mark on me.
And just when I thought I had had enough of all this mind-reading magic, she came. The woman of my dreams. ‘I hope she doesn’t know’ I thought. But then she said,
“Urgh! Yeah the stain!”
Even her beautiful dark eyes seemed morbid when she said ,
“ I don’t see that one coming off very easily.”
The shock! Unbearable! I was shocked, stunned, stupefied, wonderstruck and all such words you can think of. I don’t know what else I was! How did she know that I was thinking about the stain this thing would leave upon me?! She couldn’t read my mind?! Then she would know that I liked her!

What the hell was I thinking. Nobody can mind-read! I decided to run into the bull’s room and get it done. Even before I reached his room I heard, “ Hey did you know you….” . I didn’t want to hear the last part.
“I’m sorry I’m late. I…I…”. The moment I stuttered I knew I was done.
The Bull turned. There he was popping salted peanuts into his mouth. Even that in regular time intervals. Surprisingly he said, “I have never heard you apologize for lateness before! Anyway, sit down. I have something important to talk to you about.”
So this was it. He knew and so did all his staff. Why did I have to tell that idiot?
“Congratulations! You receive this!” he said handing out a letter.
I knew it was a mock and the letter probably held my dismissal sentence.
But no! Lo and behold! Just like in all those old stories, I was promoted!
After all, the boss didn’t know! He hadn’t told. It was an hour before I was let out of his office. He gave a speech which ended by him saying, “Hey! What’s that on your shirt?”

And then as I looked into the mirror, all things became apparent. There it was, just below the collar, just above the dreaded file. A tiny piece of bread stuck on my shirt. There was no mind-reading after all.
Smiling, I turned back to my boss. “Peanuts?” he offered.