Bijay Kant Dubey


Olden Age Papa And Modern Age Papa/ Papa’s Friends/There Was A Time When The Sons Used To Stay Away With - Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

There was a time when the sons used to stay away with
And the fathers used to keep some distance
From the growing children,
I mean the grown-ups
But in this world of today,
Children are modern papa’s friends,
Fearing them not,
Taking them lightly,
Sharing everything with.

The younger children used to maintain some distance
From their father
And the father too used to keep them off
As because the fathers of that age and time
Had been very, very conservative and orthodox,
They used to keep a watch over,
Under strict discipline and moral living,
The building of character was essential.

They were not allowed to sit on the same cot which
The father used to sit,
I mean the children would sit on floor
Or wooden planks,
The father used to give lessons in
Religion, ethics and morality
By quoting from the Ramayana and the Mahabharata.

To talk with the girl was not allowed in small places,
If found talking, the oldie used to scold
As for friendship
With kaamini, kanchan and sura,
Maya and moha,
To abstain from, keep off from these,
Which the younger generation had to follow then
And they dared not go against
As the time had not been in their favour.

Olden-age papa and modern-age papa, the gap in between,
The generation gap,
The old age and the new age,
Do not feel infatuated with Mohini or Kaamini,
Be not attached to, yearn for not,
See not into the eyes of Beauty.
Bend your head down
Just like the Buddha in sadhna
And the dancers passing through,
Testing sadhna
And you in meditation,
Quite oblivious of.

Fathers olden and oldies, conservative and orthodox,
Outdated and outmoded in their outlook
And behaviour,
Talk I, discuss I,
The olden-age fathers
And their behaviours and manners
And life-styles of living and thinking.

Do not sit with me, do not walk with,
When you see persons with,
Keep yourself at a distance,
As you a growing son,
Follow my orders strictly,
Talking not with, getting the words sent across.

But the modern papas, fair and frank,
Just like modern friends, not like the serious oldies,
Hanging, laden and pedantic,
Quoting Baconian epigrams and sayings,
As you sow so you reap,
Morning shows the day,
If character is lost then everything is lost.

But the modern papas friendly and accommodative
Which the sons know it not,
Forget it and turn into bad boys in company,
The spoilt children, hapless addicts
And this is as because the mother will not say anything
And the papa has made them climb up and seated on the head.

The olden-age papas in dhoti and kurta, conservative and orthodox,
Abnormally stern and strict,
Moralistic and disciplined going by the rule,
Bu the modern papas in pants and shirts
But liberal and mixing without a barrier and limit
As for the kids, beards dyed grey and hair black and in golden framed-specs,
Which they understand it not,
Will but in the end, when time will slip out,
And it will not remain anything to do.


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Poem Edited: Thursday, August 29, 2013


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