Jyoti Patil

Being gifted to be emotional,
Woman is always at the receiving end,
Being gifted to be more sensible,
Man always takes advantage of that.
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Oh! I'm old now or at least I feel I'm old.
But I don't feel decrepit.
I don't feel like losing any hold on life.
I don't feel any less life in me.
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Flowers always look lovely in their bloom,
Their delicate branches bear their load happily,
The plants that yield those beautiful buds,
Feel the proud to be the source of such soothing sight,
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Oh! What's this life? If I want to live it in true sense,
I should choose something to do for others, for the society,
For my country and, if possible, for the whole humanity,
Where there is no space for selfishness and greed.
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Mounting on two thoughts negative and positive
Tussling between two lines black and white
Grappling with two divergent ideas violence and non-violence
Tackling with two dividing lines war and peace,
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Wherever you live there are birds to admire
Birds of different colours and sizes,
Birds of different voices and varieties,
They always give you a feeling of happiness,
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What's your plan, Nature?
Forests are in flames
Rivers in spate,
Deserts are scorching,
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Let me not be drawn in the annuls of true love
Love is life they say,
But love is not love until it is mingled with commitment and sacrifice.
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Till when you will wait and expect help from them,
You have to pick up your pieces yourself,
Oh! Queen Draupadi take up the cudgel in your hands,
No Krishna will come now to protect you.
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Whenever trust is broken and faith is shaken, keep tarry
Don't ever quit trusting people or keeping faith in the ultimate
Whenever you feel alone in the crowded world with no one close to you
Don't ever think you are alone, be a company to someone in need.
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When heavy dark clouds hover all around
Air spread intense humid fragrance in abound
Breaking dry silence with pitter-patter sound,
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The fear and fret, fury and fuming
All disappear where love resides,
The enmity and envy, evil and revenging
All evaporate where love treads,
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What could all these disparate things possibly have in common?
Flowers and crows, priests and soldiers,
Suns and moons, kings and queens, viruses and lagers?
Well, at a glance they all seem Greek and Roman.
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It has its own fascinating name
But weaved in a morbid game
Looking for symptoms but not the same
Sobriety or serenity has no one to blame
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O father, don't kill me,
Let me see the world,
Let me enjoy the pleasure of living,
I want to live and play;
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Many things teach us to mend our ways,
Walk our way and learn to save,
Save water, save energy, and see the sanguine rays,
Save nature, save precious lives and be brave,
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Be cheerful and encouraging
Leave criticising and complaining
Be buoyant and spirited
Crooning and craving for complacent pass
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With what I ought to compare certainty,
Were't ought my extern to my upbringing,
Or equate with bare integrity,
Which stand alone to prove my point or pruning?
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Sometimes there are clouds of Gloom,
But soon there will be flowers to bloom,
Happiness will dance around you soon,
Nothing but serenity and sobriety to groom.
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Why cribbing for having no time to care
Busy, busy always, no time to stand and spare,
Life goes like this always,
Leaving no traces or rays,
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