Checkered stories

Checkered stories

In checkered squares
Of excitement, victory, defeat
A story of kings, queens, knights unfolds
In moves, strategies , playfulness

Kingdoms won and lost
In between these checked squares
Of black and white

A childhood blossoms
Runs free with friends
Disregarding wins , losses
Focusing on fun in playing
Blooms in all shades of color

--shubha

P.S. A few lines that came to me at a children's chess meet and I couldn't help but admire the blessed elasticity of childhood that rises so eaisly over trivialities of losses and wins .

Reaping poems

Reaping poems

Fertile soil of my imagination
Till with emotion of every season
Sow the seeds of many a impression
Water gently with thoughtful rumination
Watch over, prune with exacting deliberation
With gratitude, reap poems of Your benediction

--shubha

P.S  A few lines that came to me in response to a prompt , "farmer" on an online poetry group. 

Dust bowls

Dust bowls


Myopic greed rains
Farmers drown in debt's despair
Grow arid dust bowls


--shubha


P.s. In memory of the many farmers driven to suicide because of drought and debt. In response to a prompt of ."farmer" on an online poetry group .

Be a farmer

Be a farmer

Sow the seeds of good
Till, weed this field of your heart
Reap satisfaction

--shubha

P.S. A few line sthat cme to in response to a prompt of farmer on an online poetry group . Inspired by a quote from a discourse by Sri Sathya Sai Baba .

Many seasons

Many seasons

We live in many seasons
All at the same time
Know the nascent promise of spring
The fullness of summer
The separation, acceptance of Autumn
The deep inward journey of winters' quiet
All these seasons we carry within ourselves
To explore , experience in turn
And in amalgamation of the experiences
Discover ourselves
As an amalgamation of these seasons

--shubha

Groping fingers

Groping fingers

Groping fingers reach
To pinch her bottom in a bus
Surreptitiously,
A chance brush
Against her breasts
In a crowded street
A whistle, a catcall
In a college campus
Laughter at her harried shame
Molest her privacy in lonely stairwells
And now on desterd sidestreets
On public roads
Restrict her sense of independence
While the onlookers look the other way,
This is not their fight
It is not their mothers, sisters, friends or wives
While the perpetuators expand their territory
Of where women may not walk freely.

--shubha

P.S. A few lines written before but ones that I felt a need to share after the shameful incident of mass molestation of women in Bangalore on New Year's Eve.