On a cool evening, With sun shining, And wind breezing, Waves in the sea rising, I was alone walking Along the beach improvising the thoughts of simple living And high thinking.
I saw a woman and child passing chatting with each other and laughing merrily, While me behind them following
Suddenly Tsunami’ like waves started erupting and the little child started drifting as the mother’s hold gradually slipping
Seeing the child caught in the tide The mother’s cry touched the sky and she could not prevent the helpless child from drowning.
Before I could react I saw her diving into water to pull out the child out of flooding
But she started drowning slowly her hands were peeping Out of water and she disappearing.
I shamelessly stood watching The tragic event unfolding Without ever extending The barest minimum helping
I am a retired Engineer from the Government of Karnataka and now 64 year old. post retirement I fancied to write in 3 languages namely English,Hindi and kannada. I have written several poems,short stories etc and have published two books namely ""Tri bhasha Kritigalu and Rampys vision on lifes mission and now it has become passion for me to continue writing. I have also developed several software computer programmes covering Technical,medical and general programmes
I have agreed to cede an unwritten moon in a killing frenzy, for a chequered spirituality. Now visitation will start ravishing the light at dawn. The grievers will assemble for a final scoop of dust. Forgive my star, for a
The doubters will cross the coals after the raid. Apology will not be in attendance. Sitting on the throne of cold blooded assassination, do you think justice demands the revenge? Whom you are killing, the body or the spirit? Heads
O how I desire, the deluge {a severe flood} to scrub Aside all the black-hearted, and the tender-hearted would be full with warmth, so they won’t harden, but they will fall for the word hasn’t marked them, they will forget
“What is it that makes you flabbergasted, my dear mortal? This isn’t for the first time you’ve been throttled by the fear of demise” says the death angel while ripping apart my bones. “Why am I still remain, to you,
Sometimes you want to shut the book and bring out the darkness from bleached words of a lonely march of the tree. How to think or not to think drinking the wine of pain? Baby, do not go into the
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