Venkateswaran Krishnan Sreenivasan

Who said we are all born to die?
We are born to live and thrive
And to better this world, strive
By work and worship until we die
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Call a spade a spade and win offence
Or clothe your words in honey in defense
Even gestures without words make much sense
But euphemism is sheer nonsense
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You will reap what you sow
Evil deeds will harvest woe
In word or deed don't stoop so low
Do not pursue quid pro quo
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Remember the sweetest events in life
And ignore the bitter ones to be safe
Life is riddled with hurdles rife
Forget these to dispel strife
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Reminiscences 1975 to 1980
Rags to riches story

Walking up the lane leading to our home
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I bow to thee O’ lord
For the mercies rained on me
All through these years
From my birth to this day
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Make a wish and swiftly act
No wishful thinking; it is a tact
To hide the hideous fact
Of your sloth and ugly craft
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As you sow, so you reap
You have no reasons to weep
Over the fruits of your deeds
Apple will not grow from poppy seeds
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An unknown guest peeped at morn, a female cat
Mewing and purring, beside me she sat
Yearning, it seemed, for the friendly pat
I gave; then on my lap she lay flat
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Elevate thyself in body and spirit
By ennobling thoughts every minute
Peep not with eagle’s eye into other’s guilt
But look inward to find a surfeit of it.
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Why did the good lord create the night
When the days are warm and bright?
And the Sun bestows energy and might
To all life with his blessed light
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Feeling hungry, man goes for the junk
And stinks all day like the skunk;
The odor is masked by a fragrant spray
Fumigant sticks keep smells at bay
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Godfather is neither god nor father
Just two good words strung together
For the sacred duty to baptize; not to tether
Any loving bond to last for ever
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Two score years and more ago, we swore by oath
Of Hippocrates and steered clear of any blot
In our mission of care in devotion and troth
Pride and avarice did we totally loathe
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We are just speckles in the cloud
Unseen and unrecognized in the crowd;
Yet of our human form we are proud
And proclaim our lofty airs aloud.
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A parasite attached to its mother’s womb
Our life here begins like any other brood
Drawing its food from its mother’s blood
To the day it hatches out for its roam to its tomb
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Men in power are worshipped by men
To be bestowed with undue laurels and gain;
From office, they do a rich harvest, take
Their memory lives in the statues we make.
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As I wander on my morning roam
In the fearsome stillness of the wee hours
I chance to hear the loudest moan
From an inmate in the asylum towers
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