Padmanabhan Ananth Poems

Why call it Facebook when it's neither
A real 'face' nor a 'book' - it's a blur
But social network site that's now a rage
A billion plus users around globe, every age
...

She a good office mate
A young-n-bright advocate
Invited colleagues did Valli
To her unusual 'birthday party'
...

We sit together for this weekend routine
A chance each on Sat and Sun
When she'd make those steaming cups
Of ginger tea or filter coffee
...

Long bamboo stick joined the broom
One of coconut mid-ribs dried brown
Held tightly by him, the park sweeper
He'd been at it ever since a toddler
...

They were then social status icons
Sparkling Ambys* parked in porticos
Said so much about their proud possessors
A few Ambys, sine qua nons
...

Those were days only of radio
In our town they aired no TV show
The one near the pass of Western Ghats
Some called it South's Manchester!
...

Long drive by a middle-aged Toyota
Took us from the famed lion-rock, Sigiriya
To the Royal City up in the hill country
The cultural capital of Lanka - Kandy
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I decided we'd leave for this vacation
To north of our state, whatever may happen
Should heavens fall at my workplace,
I will call them 'Christmas snowflakes'!
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He remembers vividly, his retirement speech
One streamer broke loose by pedestal fan's breeze
And flew down on his face, as if to caress
For all that he did at work and career, such praise
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My taxi turned sharp into Champ de Mars
The weather cool, winter yet not harsh
Fresh downpour from a passing raincloud
Had washed the street where she firmly stood
...