If I had wings

In a bad season
yearn seasonal migration
to habitat
in better condition.

But looking cost of air fare
and rent of the cage there,
drop idea of passage;
going there, can’t dare

Crave, I had the wings!

Not needed aeroplanes
not polluted bird’s terrains
noise and air;
Could meet them there

If, I had the wings!

Celestial Hide and seek

now is turn of Sun

peeking out of his adobe

to seek moon in bright

weary after night long search

is hidden behind the earth

Morning tea

By making their own ways,

enter my bedroom, 

the bright beams of sun rays.

I pull over the cover, 

and put on myself
so as more dreams may occur. 

As I hear chime of spoon
stirring in the cup,
have reason to get up soon.

The sweetest word of the day
I listen in the morning,
'tea is ready' my wife says.

My mind, soul and the heart,
even throat and tongue,
they all go happy and spurt.

Whenever she is not there,
difficulty comes for sure,

I have to myself prepare.

But it is very very rare,
she too loves to have tea
and this happy time to share.

Holiday at race course

Went to race course dismissing idea of casino.

It was really something  different to go.

I was excited to watch some thing live

instead losing in gamble in smoky light.

Horse race, a joint work of man and animal,

again a combination of sports and gamble.

Accompanied my friend who was bit experienced,

he selected racetrack and horse to win the bet.

The pony looked having better winning chance

judged he was happy, peppy and eager to race.

Jockey was also smart and had good ride style

I did nothing but followed my friend with smile.

I too dared to risk my ten dollars on same pony,

it was unknown, on whom we put the money.

It’s past performance matrix and about training,

even about the jockey we were not  knowing.

Lucky day was it, for the horse chosen by us

We returned happy, added  few dollar to vault

Price of his service

O God!

Whatever we do, you pay for it

You do everything, give everything

If we pray, for that too, you pay

I have nothing mine, that I can pay

O God!

You become happy, if simply we praise

And guarantee us joy and restful live

You need mere our prayer and praise 

Towards cost of every thing that you give

O God!

Men fight to capture your given things,

Demand  price,  from wanting everyone

For cleaning arteries, pay thousands dollars

To clean their souls, nothing is done

Summer haiku

land and sky all dry

worn clothes become wet and weight

sticky tongues say - more!

That mango tree

Mango has been my favourite fruit
Got abundant  in my orchard in childhood
But our favourite was only that mango tree
Belonged to ‘Panditayeen’ old widow lady

Whenever we went to her in mango season
She always greeted with mangoes- sweet, juicy, ripen  
But the children of village liked fresh ones
Plucked from the tree, hit by stones

It was very tall, few yards away from village
The oldest person there, didn’t know its age
We few, used to go there and sit in its shelter
Gossiped and stoned fruits as got chance favorable

We spotted ripen and plucked by throwing stones
Used to practice hitting targets, while plucking mangos
Suddenly that grandma comes with stick, shouting  
Carefully watching one of us whispers, she’s coming

We ran away, she started guessing who were they
We feared if identified would go home, the complaint
Would be reprimanded or even beaten by parents
I was the lucky chap, always escaped safe

When grown up I migrated to city for career shake
Later, she and mango tree both completed their age
I kept its reminiscence throughout my past fifty years
Wood of that same tree, has her renovated house doors