Aniruddha Pathak Poems

Autumn came to dare,
To leave the trees leafless bare,
Poor fall, blamed unfair.
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The left and right hands' resting point,
Piano player's middling point,
The middle octave's note called C,
And marked white all over the key—
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The parting hug of yours this morn
Ere you tore ‘way from me at dawn,
Looked as if I was lost in dream,
Flustered, I broke some sweat cold
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‘It's all about a bit of bite
‘To eat and fill my hungry maw,
‘To that end these skies I soar
‘Over every inch of land to pour,
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This is my prized catch,
Bet, if you ever can match
E'en tiny a patch,
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An ill-informed fool, what to state?
Kabeer feels shy of such a fate.
Like dancing ‘tis before a blind—
Futile an art, vain one may find.
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When shoulder to shoulder we walk,
And march in, enemies to block,
We move when in forward gear,
All them foes tremble in fear.
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He fought with rare grit
And more so when hit,
His pyre as if lit.
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Notso in this world seems a robust fact,
Wrapped in layers things look like an onion,
Beauty, some say, is but an opinion,
Or else it might have been far more perfect.
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When Google answers for everything,
And You Tube has tunes that all songs sing,
When medics sit in bliss,
There happen things like this.
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