My idleness took away my love

MY IDLENESS TOOK AWAY MY LOVE

- Shashank, 30^th September, 2007

So much to do

In so less time,

My own verse says:

“I won’t rhyme”

Until I compel it,

With some power:

The greed to excel,

The habit to shower

Perhaps some brilliance

Or personal motivation,

Somehow I do it

Killing the sedation

Which has been idling

Ever since birth

A mood to relax:

A choice not worth?

Still don’t know why
This body is lethargic,

Just doing nothing

And pretend being so sick?

If I can write this poem,

Why not something else;

If I can give time here

Why not where she dwells?

Still I do miss her

In heart deep beneath

Ever since she left,

I’m not at ease to breathe...

Time and tide waits for none

Poetic Power

THE POETIC POWER

- Shashank, 28^th September, 2007

This is a lyric

Not long ago thought

But something cynic

And yet so wrought...

Strange, isn’t it?

Power words do cast...

More than a conduit

Meandering rough and vast

Draining your emotions

Or playing with the mind

Sometimes, serving as potions

Or others, soothing and kind

And when it gets serious?

It’s grave indeed

To listen out curious

The voice of tears beneath

Nothing else surpasses

The voice of the heart

Or the melody of the grasses

In winds, making ‘em dart...

This is a lyric

Now very well thought

Perhaps a little cynic

But yet, so wrought...

Something to say...

A GUILT TO SHARE...

Way back, I thought why I write, and perhaps I never came up with an answer. I am supposed to be a very nice person, loved by parents, family and to have a sense of maturity and responsibility. The first part is perhaps okay, but then the second part violates it: reasons thrust upon just for the sake of something called adulthood, when the mind still wants a bit of that childhood back, in fact a lot of that childhood back: yes, there are testosterones, there is a darkness, there are all things a mind can have but you never live to, and never should; but then again there are some things which should never be. What you jest amongst your friends, how you come up with the fairer sex, all is put up a vigil eye by this society; making simple things complex. We can never be that frank we were in childhood: morally correct; but ethically unapplied, rather wrongly applied. There are other ways to achieve objectives...

Still regretting what I did, why I did, and why I did not say what I should have said, what I said which I should have never...

One day this blog will go to you, that person to whom it’s aimed... my last attempt of approach was wrong, rather unsuccessful, this one I hope goes to make amends.

Love you

“There are things

Which remain regretted

To think likewise

And to become forgetted...

Still heart throbs back

And strikes something holy

I shall, for you, redeem

And bring back lost glory

This man may have slowed

But not his emotions

Still he’s young,

Don’t make any notions:

LOVE YOU"

Lost Forever

LOST FOREVER

- Shashank, 26^th September, 2007

What should be the first line?

Neither I know, nor you over there

Soliloquy, with a glass of wine

Where has all gone: life, love and care?

Alone, lone and shattered yet alive

Gusts I have seen, blows taken aback

Still I walk, my breaths do thrive…

But are there reasons, a cause to crack?

Life is but a mist of the gloomy

Until seen unlike, in the shade of a hand

A gesture which cared, and did love me

But nothing left now, so alone I stand…

Loneliness casts a deep penumbra

Eyes become static, and hopes so numb

Blood follows such a static orchestra

Nothing feels rhythmic, all so dumb

Perhaps time is only what I pass

Killing it thereby, and moving some place

Don’t remember when I peeped into the glass

Forgetting who I am, what is my face…

What should be the ending stanza?

Neither I know, nor you over there…

Soliloquy, with a glass of wine

Where has all gone: life, love and care?

A song for CE Summer Camp, 2008

This folks, is not a poem. It is a song which has proper tune and lyrics. So enjoy the lyrics part of it...

SONG FOR SUMMER CAMP, CIVIL ENGINEERING

-Shashank, 26th of September, 2007

The roads...

The roads...

The roads to success

We built upon

The roads to fantasy

We dwell upon

Excellence personified

In our very way

Coz we are the civilians

In every word to say..

There has been a light

That has shown the way

There has been a lot

Constructive to say

There has been a theme

Cast upon

There has been a group

Delivering great...

The bridges...

The bridges...

The bridges which are

So connective to say

Their strength, durability

The sturdy never sway

Hearts of a million

Joined this way

Coz we are the civilians

In every word to say..

There has been a light

That has shown the way

There has been a lot

Constructive to say

There has been a theme

Cast upon

There has been a group

Delivering great...

Civil ain’t something just to ponder or work

Civil ain’t a lone job to just to thrust and jerk

It’s a technology we see, something we pride

It’s a brain we use, a thing we never do hide

So shout with me....

Civil engineers....

So come with me,

And join this chorus....

There has been a light

That has shown the way

There has been a lot

Constructive to say

There has been a theme

Cast upon

There has been a group

Delivering great...

There has been a light

That has shown the way

There has been a lot

Constructive to say

There has been a theme

Cast upon

There has been a group

Delivering great...

Confession of a Lifetime

CONFESSION OF A LIFETIME

- Shashank, 25^th September, 2007

I am the most confused

Like most of us are

I don’t have the power

To praise that star...

Which looks most sparkling amidst those bright

Which comes in my dreams, steals my night

Which always remains so deep in my sight

Gleams so beautiful, smitten by its lovely light

But that’s where I stop

Like most of us do

I don’t have the power

To praise that virtue...

Virtue which gives a class and a touch

Of silky velvet, and something so much

Lovely, lovable and adorable such

It is so soothing, and impossible to judge

Her inner beauty, where I fall

Like most of us would

I don’t have the power

To praise what’s understood...

To be a gem, something so rich

Money cannot afford, and looking at which

Eyes cannot miss, they are so bewitched

Cannot even move, so startled and so fixed...

Entranced, enchanted

Like most of us today

I only have words,

No guts to go and say...

Those three words, which take you above the sky

Those three words, but I am perhaps shy

Or confused, as I just don’t know her reply

Whatever it might be, someone tell me why

I love her so much

The Winning Mantra

THE Winning Mantra

- Shashank, 24^th September, 2007

It’s not about Socrates

Or a modern Bill Gates

Sometimes a teamwork

Can gather more praise

Togetherness speaks

Tougher than so much else

Just put an open eye

On the underdog who dwells

In those fiery rounds which

Can dismay most of ‘em

Who talk of being the powerful

Of being the game’s gem

People usually squander

In search of something personal

Me, mine and myself

So rich, but yet so dull:

Losers do talk and understand

What this does mean

Specially those who boast,

For whom others are thin and lean

But there goes the game

And enter the winners

You miss by a spot, or perhaps an inch

But wait, who now cares?

Thinking and planning

In a group for a cause

Can get you winning

Coz’ you can’t leave it to the toss:

Luck is an element

You cannot control

But time’s a commodity

You can very well roll

But then again,

Only if you plan and think

These ideas can strike

And make a dream wink...

So prepare for solid

Prepare for a win

Prepare for your country

Prepare for your kin

Whatever be the motivation

Just go ahead and do

Don’t think of the outcome

Just lean in every virtue

100% is what’s required

And nothing more

People remember the commitment:

Go on, and hit the four

Why I Write

WHY I WRITE

- Shashank, 20^th September, 2007

Sometimes this gets funny

But not everytime

It’s is real tough though

To get everyone in rhyme

People catch me and say

What you write can stay

On the pages of some blog

But wait, was this meant this way?

It took me to wonder

And made me to ponder

Is it just a literary jest

Or should it be a work of honour?

Alas, no matter how much you try

Very few appreciate

‘Coz actions speak louder

Than what words do state

It is so uninteresting

So boring so mean

What a waste of time

Is this project so lean?

Okay, I found an answer

And write down this

Very simple in lingo

Than my other trysts

Trysts with my pen

Or my laptop keyboard

Penning in those words

Which are unheard, unsold

Listen people,

This is it

I write not because

I feel doing some shit

There are some reasons

Which need not explained

Coz going through some rhymes

Give reasons acclaimed

So give an eye

Give in your ears

There might be a message

Which may serve you for years...

I rank my works

According to what I hear

Reader please read it

Making yourself loud and clear...

Because it’s only sometimes

I get so funny

I am running out of time,

More worth than any money

Pleasure and Pain

PLEASURE AND PAIN

Shashank, 19^th September, 2007

I was wondering why

Some things are never supposed

Nor written in drama

Or in prose?

The choicest think in a gritty way

The wisest seldom speak, and when they say

“Who walk alone in the toil of the nights,

Who dare to see those dirtiest fights?”

Mercy seldom casts its shadow on the idle

And here you sit, just losing the battle?

Loneliness will only but hurt you

Sometimes it’s necessary, I realise that’s true

Still you need a power, a hand to move

You need find time to excel and groove

Where does man find happiness

Perhaps the bliss of the blind?

Where in this era, is such kindness of the kind?

The only way is to struggle and muffle

The shackles around you, make it ruffle

Don’t sit back, and think again

Why are you here? You have something to gain...

The world is a catalogue of priceless gifts

With dirt all around it, which seems so rich

It does make you itch, gives you a pleasure

To achieve the momentary, to go for the leisure

But then here I stop, and perhaps ask again:

I was wondering why

Some things are never supposed

Nor written in drama

Or in prose?

AN ODE TO A PASSING ROMANCE

AN ODE TO A PASSING ROMANCE

Shashank, 19^th September, 2007

Woke up in the morning

Looked everywhere

Didn’t find that serenity

And seemed, people don’t care

I was left blank, just open to stare

I was perhaps lost, and again looked everywhere...

The hand behind me was forever gone

She was there, like just yesterday

But today was forlorn

I missed her sight, her beautiful presence

The way she talked, her pretty essence

The love we harboured, words we did share

Somehow all this happened, and either didn’t care

The anger was gone in a couple of moments

But it took with itself my side of romance

For which I am nostalgic, for which I cry

I feel like dying, I have nothing to try

Whose fault it was, I just don’t care

Just want her back, but I am left so bare...

I am so blank, just open to stare

I am perhaps lost, looking everywhere...