Aniruddha Pathak Poems

I hope to enjoy morning sun
Whilst drinking drops of fresh dew
Balancing snugly upon you,
Worry not, I won't be much burden
...

Soon as something is known,
We know, not much is known,
And often palpably so—
That nigh but naught we know.
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We wish, you feel at home, cartoon said,
Not in good spirit still, I'm afraid,
Truth twisted, sacrificed,
At cost and steeply priced,
...

Man's is useless passion, a thinker said,
Life is futile, a foison of stale dreams,
And not worth all the fuss heretofore made,
Which, more is made, more futile to me seems.
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Set out to search for wicked,
I found few were so crooked;
When I delved deep unto me,
Oh, none was evil like me!
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Forget fair breakfast of fish— instead,
Today we'll have to make do with bread.
Thank God for small mercies,
Man a litter-bug is,
...

Some horses are not for a race course,
Whilst some seem to be a fertile source
For what's called horse trading—
Amidst desert a spring,
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Drop by drop are drops when caught
Fills up even a large pot,
So is a lesson's learning,
Virtue and wealth, all earning,
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I still remember Madhavas1 so well,
A water-hole to unwind in sweltering June,
From crusty school-fields to dusty farm-fields,
And do-nothings— morn to night's silver noon!
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This patent, said queen-bee does for long
To me only and wholly belong—
For working from one's home,
Not from the office dome,
...