Choices of Life

Barely legal then,

naughty, wild, completely insane.

college and studies,

goofing with buddies, 

part-time work,

partying hard,

smoke-booze-dope,

always broke,

life was a dream,

so was ‘HIM’

Boy next-door,

nice but poor,

tall, dark, handsome,

his smile…..winsome,

stolen looks,

behind library books,

life’s first crush,

God!! what a rush,

No facebook those times

yet communicating through eyes

Finally, out on a date,

not just fun but GREAT!!!

short of money,

ordered for his honey,

fries and coke,

sipping together…masterstroke!!!

movie in some fancy hall,

story? nope … can’t recall,

hand-in-hand, bending low,

drinking each other real slow.

yet we made no promises together

after some-time, stopped seeing each-other

different background or separate career path

no idea actually why we fell apart

Wish it had worked in a happily ever-after

home, husband, babies, love and laughter

Successful self but lost wonderful ‘We’

like a mansion built-on innocent felled-tree! 

Copyright: Shukla Banik

Poemish April 15 2016

FB Post date April 18 2016

Clay

Some fall for ruby red lips

Some for emerald eyes

Some go crazy for golden skin 

Porcelain face some epitomize

Preferences!! To each their own.

Who can tell - how they will get blown

Do you wanna know what makes me sway?

Not much - just plain old clay.

Earthy and pliable when it’s wet

Get’s really messy but I don’t fret 

I choose the cuckoo over the angelic dove 

Together we create our symphony of love.

When time for final parting looms

I don’t build any shrine or tomb

Refusing to mourn the loss of a jewel

Neither blaming nor trying to beguile

I don’t cling, cry or pine

His ‘feet of clay’ I accept, just like mine.

Yeah, I prefer clay, just as I am.

Just as I am.

If you like what I like, then please drop your email id @ happy-hours-shukla.blogspot.com

Copyright: Shukla Banik  dated: 29/5/2016

Nostalgic

When I was a child

Life was a fairy joy-ride

It was just eat, sleep and play

Carefree, happy and ‘oh-so’gay.

Boring studies, 

snoring buddies,

preaching teachers,

child beaters,

bunking classes,

spanked asses,

nice football bends,

ooh-aahing girlfriends,

Good, simple, fun-filled days

Carefree, happy and 'oh-so' gay.

When, I was a bit older,

Emotions were a bit colder,

Life was more work, less eat and sleep,

Constantly churning dough for daily upkeep.

Boring projects,

roaring bosses,

screaching clients,

unreasonable requirements,

married exes,

heaping vexes,

swindling honey, 

dwindling money,

I used to miss my childhood days!!

Carefree, happy and gay.

Now, am a ailing ancient

Quietly waiting for My Lord’s agent

Life is more pray, less eat and sleep

Only BFFs are ‘bedpan’ and ‘false teeth’

Boring pills,

piling bills,

failing heart,

constant farts,

weird fashion,

flagging passion,

hair’s gray,

it’s time to pray

I still miss my childhood days

Carefree, happy and 'oh-so' gay.

My Lord! I wish to ask you a boon

Please grant this one, before I finally swoon

Make me a child just for a day

So I can die - carefree, happy and gay. 

Copyright: 
Poem by Shukla Banik
Artwork by Pampa Banik

FB & Poemish Post date March 29 2016

Hammers of Time

When the earth was just a ball of fire

Oceanless, riverless and full of hot air

Life on earth was still an impossible distant dream

It did nothing except letting-off a lot of steam

There was one who was recording every dust and grime

It’s none other than the watchful sentinel called Time!

The proud dinosaurs were once prowling this earth

Glorious animal with an extraordinary girth

Ruled the world for millions of years

Lost all glory when it suddenly disappeared

Only one remained to witness it all

Time saw everything but refused to forestall!

Greek’s pride Alexander, was great once 

Roman’s Julius fell to the dubious Brutus

The desire to control resulted in two world wars

In the battle of titans only the minion suffers

None have escaped punishment for their crimes

There is only one constant - that is changing times.

They came, they conquered, ruled and finally left

Like an arrogant, proud, assinine comet

Mere Mortals forever striving for immortality

Power-hungry fools letting loose unbridled brutality

World eventually saw sun setting on the mightiest empire

Yet time trudged through, not allowing to tire.

Many have fantasized about building a machine

To manipulate time every information has been gleaned

In this mission they have all failed

Will anyone succeed.. guess, only time will tell

Meanwhile do some good and spread much-needed sunshine

So what, if one day you too come under the ‘Hammers of Time’ 

Copyright: Shukla Banik

FB Post date Sept 19 2015

Poemish date March 25 2016

Dark Side

I am the dark side, where fear resides
Another name is Devil, to be precise
Some say I have one eye, tail and horn
I spit and blow fire from night to morn
Don't mock me foolish earthling as this is not true
I am but a choice which duels within you. 

God gave power, wealth and fame
He also gave slavery, poverty and shame.
For every bird, animal and man
There is an 'other half' to make it whole again. 
Light and dark are two sides of 'My Lord' 
Choice is yours as to which path you shall trod. 

Money brings joy when given to needy 
Hoarding it all makes you more greedy.
If you have power give justice to unjust 
Abuse of power will only reduce you to dust. 
Fame or friendship, joy or sorrow 
Choice of today will reflect tomorrow
Life is a journey and 'My Lord' is the absolute destination 
How do you want to reach 'Him' - Annihilation or Salvation 

© Shukla Banik 

FB Post date April 22 2015

Poemish date March 25 2016

She

With a smile on her lips and pain rimmed eyes
A barely-there hips tired of walking miles
She used to be there everyday be it rain or sleet
As a maid by the day and a harlot roaming the night street.

Once she had a home, loving husband and sons
In a faraway village now razed by poverty and guns
A small patch of land her husband used to farm every year
Mounting debts and failing crops drove him to suicide out of despair!

Sons were called to avenge the death of their father
Hands used to sowing being trained to hold a gun rather
Two sons she lost in the battle for justice
Instead of her sons, she got back bullet ridden bodies!

She came to this city with her last remaining kid
For him she worked and also offered herself to every bid
Often she slept with only her shame as her cloak
But the morning brought hunger, a traitor, which continued to provoke.

Her masters were happy as she was a good maid
She was seen not heard and ever grateful for being paid
Quickly she would gulp down every morsel of the leftovers given
Even if it was stale she would eat as if hunger-driven.

She worked and worked ignoring much pain and strife
Hoping to save some money to go back to her old life
But the demon of poverty refuses to let her go
Greed of mankind delivered repeated blows.

She lost her home to make way for an upscale market
Her son she lost to an overseas job racket
Now old, frail and a beggar she is sleeping on the street
One dark night she came under the wheel of a drunk rich kid.

Yes, there were protest and candle-march with media coverage
Genuine remorse, automated lip-service or to establish emerging political image
This is a story of a stranger living in a strange town
The story is often heard but no one gives a fig deep down.

Today the kid is out of jail and the media has moved on
Before she was dying everyday and now she is finally gone
In this unfeeling world she never had a moment of ease
Now in her death, My Lord, please let her truly rest in peace. 

© Shukla Banik  

FB Post date Sept 17 2015

Poemish date March 25 2016

Accident

A dark cold night blinded by thick white mist, 

Am driving down the street, feeling absolutely pissed.

At that time he took a turn too fast, or was my reflexes slow?

Brake, skid, tyre burn - tree by my side felt the full blow. 

“Quickly send an ambulance” a shaken voice was saying,

“God, please show some mercy” the voice kept on praying.

My chest felt tight like a stone and I can hear a distant moan,

While floating from dark to light, between known and unknown.

“My mother is ill" the voice said, "was hurrying to call a Doc”

I tried very hard to remember, when last I have seen my mom.

On my eighteenth birthday, the day I stormed out of her home.

“Stop running my life for me, I want to live alone”

From that day onwards, I have not called her once

Will surely call her now, if only I get that chance.

Dunno how she fared in life, whether she lived or died,

In her retirement home, with her memories all archived.

I am forty-two today to her eighty-seven,

Will she ever forgive me, when I finally reach heaven. 

“Wife is expecting our first child” voice said “this very month rather.

I want to hold the child in my arms and be a hands-on father.

Ambulance will be here soon, try to breathe slowly.

I am praying for you now, don’t give-up so easily.”

I too remembered having a wife, thirteen-years of marriage,

My burning need for an heir, left her with many miscarriage.

Thinking it’s all her fault, I took to booze and lovers,

My bretrayal hurt her so much that she hanged her with bed covers.

I am forty-two today to her thirty-seven

Will she ever forgive me, when I finally reach heaven.

Blare of heaven’s bell, I hear, are coming from near or far?

White-clothed angel, oh-so gently, pulled me in a comfy stretcher.

They felt my head, they felt my ribs, they felt my arms and legs,

It should hurt but strangely though, I felt only numbing effect.

Feeling fit I rise above, in a puff of white-gray smoke,

That moment I felt strangely light, my senses fully awoke.

A crumpled-mangled body like mine, was lying on blood soaked-ground,

A badly shaken man by its side, was making awful choking sound.

I died at age forty-two without sorting my personal hell,

Never will I get to say “sorry” as I hear my own death bell!! 

Copyright: Shukla Banik

Posted in Poemish: April 9th 2016

Posted in Facebook: April 12 2016