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Barathi Srinivasan Poem
A kid goes from
lower kindergarten to
upper kindergarten...
but he's still a cute li'l
kid...
a student finishes
first year of high school
and moves on to the next
but he's still a student
with academic pressures only
again, in college
there isn't much difference between
sophomores and seniors
why is it that once you
finish college
and move on to further
qualify yourself academically
the world suddenly looks at you
as a 'grown-up' individual...
and expects you to be a
block of stone
of infinite stability
and responsibility levels ?
why are we 'old' ?
does it seem stupid
if I now want to stop to
stare at lovely looking
flowers or colourful
candies in a supermarket ?
why does it seem intolerable
if I throw tantrums for
eating and sleeping ?
why should i do
only the right thing ?
has life decided to give me
no more chances ?
no more wrong steps now ?
why is the word 'decisive'
killing me ?
i want to walk the path of life
as it comes
why is there this thought
"its time now..to decide
where you want to go...
what you want to do...
who you want to
be with..."
why should i
not behave like a
new student to
a foreign school
who's unable to
forget her old friends
and doesn't want to make
new friends ?
what is so 'sinful' about this ?
why can't i NOT 'not listen to'
"everyone manages fine...
your seniors did
your peers are
and most of your juniors will..."
there are times when i myself
wonder
why i can't seem to move on
there are other times when i
do make conscious efforts to move on
succeed, externally
but the heart can't be deluded...
can it ?
mine can't be..its too smart...
to make up for that soft head...!
Copyright © Barathi Srinivasan | Year Posted 2006
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Details |
Barathi Srinivasan Poem
Can I walk the roads alone ?
Why am I this scared ?
Do I fear torture
Or pain ?
What if I fall down ?
What am I doing now ?
Is it better to live alone
Walk alone
Aware that peril beckons
When you walk alone on the road
Braced for it.. and careful enough ?
Or seek help from the company
Ok…let me travel a bit
To a country with nice, friendly people
They all take so much care…
But when it comes to helping me cross the
Road… why aren’t they helping me ?
Oh… I’m not the only blind man here…
They can’t see me….
Oh…
What do I do now ?
Ah…let me go to my own land
And seek help
They are not blind
They’ll see me
And help me
So, I go…
On my way
I have a dream…
I walk the road
People willingly hold my hand
Walk me down the road
I tell myself happily… “why didn’t I come here earlier ?”
Half way down the road
Heavy traffic
And the effluvium
Suffocating me
Suffocating my helper too
He runs away
I wonder
He probably is getting
Too affected by the fumes….
Or… doesn’t he like my hand ?
My perfume ?
My smell ? …
What did I do ? …
I hear a kingsized motorbike…
“hello there.. how are you doing ?”
“you know that if you are found on the
middle of the road, you shall die”
I splutter… “but..i am blind…”
“Blind…and you crossed half
the distance…who are you kidding ?”
“Where’s my gun ?…”
S I L E N C E
I thought I was just blind
Now I couldn’t hear anything
I couldn’t smell anything
Not even my favourite perfume
The one that I was wearing that day
Hey… I couldn’t think…
How wonderful my friends would say…
The blind guys’ uninformed talk…
But somewhere in that deep sleep, I realized that my dream was reality…
For neither can I see a dream nor reality…
Everything is…
Blind men realize it half the way down…
And pay a heavy price…
Copyright © Barathi Srinivasan | Year Posted 2006
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Details |
Barathi Srinivasan Poem
The mystery presented...
the veil of simplicity
to shield pure greatness and class
the superiority possessed
under a gentle and warm
cover of humility
that accepts all
quiet but steady adherence
to worthy principles
the easygoing style of greatness...
protection and concern
concealed by an air of comfortable detachment
betrayed only by eyes that cant lie...
Can I walk the path.. ?
It seems impossible...
but can you challenge reality ?
Copyright © Barathi Srinivasan | Year Posted 2006
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