Suresh.M.'s Blogs

Suresh.M.
MY PET MONKEY
Posted March 29, 2010 by Suresh.M.
I came across a monkey so dear
So cute it was, I loved it truly
My love I expressed without fear
Though the monkey at times turned unruly

Like any other monkey it did throw tantrums
But I couldn’t care less or more
For I loved it in all its moods and forms
and my love continued to grow

I loved the monkey so much
That the master soon became the slave
And very soon things were such
That the monkey I did crave

The monkey soon commanded
As was a monkey’s won’t to be
And I did whatever it demanded
As much a donkey as I could be

One fine day the monkey decided
That it was fed up of me
An opportunity it was then provided
To walk out on me

As was a monkey’s wont to do
It swung from branch to branch
And I was left with nothing better to do
But be just a lonely unused branch

The branch that once was filled with joy
Has become desolate now
After all it was fooled by a monkey’s ploy
And remains still and silent now

I now miss my monkey love
My one and only true love.
Her tantrums and her monkey tricks
I continue to miss them all.

But now I’ve learnt my lesson
I’ve learnt not to cry
The monkey has fulfilled its mission
Of making my tears run dry

I now wait in hope so vain
For the return of my monkey
With no tears but only pain.
Is this the reward for this donkey?
Suresh.M.
THE INDIAN GIRL CHILD
Posted March 9, 2010 by Suresh.M.
The Girl child wanted to do things differently
But Papa wouldn’t just let her be

The girl loved classical music so resounding
When she was eight years old
She wanted to learn and practice singing
But Papa refused and he did scold

The girl loved classical dance
When she was ten years old
She wanted to learn tantalizing dance
But Papa considered it an art of harlots old

The Girl child wanted to do things differently
But Papa wouldn’t just let her be

The girl loved the guitar
She found it cool and fine – sounded sweet as wine
She wanted to play the guitar
But Papa felt it was a waste of time

The girl loved writing poetry
When she was eleven years old
She did write her first piece of poetry
But Papa couldn’t appreciate and was cold

The Girl child wanted to do things differently
But Papa wouldn’t just let her be

The girl entered a competition in poetry
At her school during the same year
She knew she did have a talent for poetry
But Papa felt education would suffer

The girl wanted to learn painting
And so saved money to buy water colours
She had both talent and longing
But Papa’s writ over all still towers

The Girl child wanted to do things differently
But Papa wouldn’t just let her be

The Girl wanted to dance at her school’s annual Day
So she practiced hard to be the principal dancer
She hoped she could have her way
But Papa was more destructive than a Cancer

The Girl wanted to study fashion designing
After she completed her high School
She sought her Papa’s permission and blessing
But Papa wanted her to study Law which she didn’t find cool

The Girl child wanted to do things differently
But Papa wouldn’t just let her be

The girl is now a full fledged adult
No more a girl but a very beautiful woman
She wants to treated as an adult
But Papa is indeed a stubborn man

The girl has written more than four hundred poems
And many more lovely short stories too
She wants her Papa to appreciate her poems
But Papa doesn’t even know that his girl can write too.

The Girl child wanted to do things differently
But Papa wouldn’t just let her be

The girl turned woman started attending music classes
Without anyone knowing she had mastered the art
It was said her voice was much better than the braying masses
But Papa never knew the difference between a note and a fart

The girl stealthily attended a school for traditional classical dance
She was so good; her teachers wanted to nurture and promote her
She was flooded with offers to dance as a professional free lance
But Papa didn’t know her talents nor encourage her

The Girl child wanted to do things differently
But Papa wouldn’t just let her be

The girl turned woman has turned twenty six now
But Papa will still check the messages on her phone
He tells her he is doing it only out of love
Even if she does in despair cry or moan

The girl turned woman is working now
But Papa expects her to be in bed by ten
He will tell her what to eat and how
As well as what to do and when

The Girl child wanted to do things differently
But Papa wouldn’t just let her be

The girl turned woman is most misunderstood
Her tastes remain unknown and her likes unimportant
Never once did Papa even try to learn her favorite food
For papa’s wishes were more important.

The girl turned woman is not permitted to make any decisions on her own
Papa chooses her car just as he does her friends and her life partner
She can never go out unescorted by family into the town
But yet no one can tell her to rebel or make her

The Girl child wanted to do things differently
But Papa wouldn’t just let her be

The girl turned woman is not even allowed to go alone to the Temple
For she is made to agree that only Papa knows what is best for her
This girl has been conditioned to be meek, submissive, docile and gentle
For Papa choose everything for her; even from school bag to life partner

The girl turned woman cannot come out and be independent in this world
No one even knows that she has a little heart and someone else lives there
But whatever it is she still loves her papa more than anyone else in this world
For she doesn’t want to break her Papa’s trust in her.

The Girl child wanted to do things differently
But Papa wouldn’t just let her be
Suresh.M.
WHERE HAVE ALL THE TEARS GONE???
Posted February 14, 2010 by Suresh.M.
Where have all the tears gone?
Oh! Where have they all gone?
What was once so copious
as an Indian monsoon;
has like the effect of global warming
now dried up too soon.

Was I a child to cry so long?
who has now matured so strong?
What used to come so naturally
Like healing tropical springs
Does not now flow even artificially
And has hardened my heart strings

Has love betrayed made me cold?
Or is it that I’m just growing old?
Vibrant expression of sorrowful emotions,
Those mind cleansing healing streams
Have dried up into something cold and bitter
My hardened rock like heart screams
For love that can make me better.
Tags: poem, tears, love, gone