A Child and an Oldman

A Child and an Oldman

 

A child when born is dependent,

Depending on others for his needs, aplenty,

From feeding,

To answering the nature’s calling,

Whenever a toddler is in need of,

Reliance on mother,

Who showed him the dawn is total,

Hardly knows where his bread would be buttered,

But is pure at heart,

Mind being empty,

Of what is good or bad for him,

Hardy knows which thing or anything suits him,

Goes after anything or anybody who shows him love,

A solemn love similar that of Mother Divine.

 

An old man,

Who, withstanding the life’s hot and cold,

Have seen the ups and downs in his life time,

From childhood to his old age,

Pushes on when he is young,

Till age catches on,

He is pulled by someone else,

When his hands get numb,

And his legs can hardly carry his own weight,

His reflexes get degraded,

His thinking cap gets tottered,

Is unable to earn his a living,

Is totally dependent on somebody,

For his needs,

Including, sometimes for meeting,

Nature’s calling,

He, now and again, is spoon fed like a child,

If somebody close is there to care,

Enduring, without demur,

Helping him when help is immensely needed,

Till the time,

God, bestows the person mercy,

And gives him a final and eternal call,

For living in His abode,

Till the another inning of life,

According to his karmic deeds or misdeeds.

 

HARBANS KHAJURIA

 

 

 

Dussehra

 

 DUSSEHRA

 

Dussehra – the annual sacred event,

Devout remember the winning of goodness,

Over wickedness.

 

Lord Shri Ram,

The embodiment of love, righteousness,

Tolerance, harmony and reverence,

That a son should have,

In immense measure,

For the parents.

 

He left his everything in Ayodhya,

When Shri Ram’s father Shri Dashratha’,

Acts on the promise given,

To his wife Kakai,

The step mother of Shri Ram,

Who had saved Shri Dashratha’s life,

Consequently extracting a promise,

To be redressed at a time appropriate,

Manthra – the courtier of Kakai too showed her true color,

In making Kakai realize the promise,

Crown for her son Shri Bharat and exile for Shri Ramji,

Shri Ram sacrificed his everything for fourteen years.

And without a demur,

Upon losing his everthing,

He embraced the life simplest in the jungles,

Subsisting on the herbs,

That is the crux of a lesson for offspring of today.

 

 

The Ravana, the king of Sri Lanka,

Representing design with evil intent,

With deception took away Sita Mata,

The consort of Shri Ram,

Kept her in his garden – Ashok Bhatika,

Exhorting her to marry him,

Sita Mata, a ideal wife,

Of an ideal husband,

Spurned his unethical wish.

 

There was a colossal battle,

Between Lord Shri Ram,

Embodiment of rightoutness,

And Ravana,

Representing evil,

In which Ravana lost his everything,

His nears and dears and his forces,

Including himself at end.

 

There is eternal lesson for all of us,

Remove the evil from our midst,

Burn it out,

As you burn the effigy of Ravana,

As a religious and yearly ritual,

And establish a kingdom of love,

Peace, full of tolerance, goodwill,

Establish kingdom of love for everybody,

Without any discrimination.

 

Harbans Khajuria

MYSTERIES

• MYSTERIES

   

  There exist some happenings / events,

  Mysteries surround about their existence,

  How and what are more prominent,

  Even birth and death of beings are embed in mystery,

  Explanations abound,

  But no conclusive one yet found,

  And are thus shrouded in yawning mysteries,

  No scientific theory can fully ravel or unravel,

  The existence or their vanishing from our midst.

   

  This world of ours is a rock-solid mystery,

  Many events just come about,

  Without any explicit basis or reason,

  But doubt doubtlessly lingers on,

  This doubt gives birth to undisputed faith,

  No rational reason can unmake it.

   

  Medium exists between reasonable and unreasonable,

  Supernatural mysteries are blanketed in secrecies,

  Our mind is not powered to fully grasp their realities,

  The mysterious Truth can hardly be understood,

  If this Truth is dissected,

  Or, peeled like a onion,

  Peeling one layer after the another one,

  You’ll find another layer like the earlier one,

  Till end,

  The end result is a big nothing – niti-niti,

  Religion has influenced mankind since ages,

  And is rooted in Truth,

  Our dependents on Supernatural is certainly absolute,

  Understanding fully of which is based on mystery of faith,

  Its full revelation is impossible due to human flaws,

  Reason and revelation are always on war,

  No rationality can question the mysteries of faith,

  Which is factually individual’s forte,

  Depending on individual’s knowledge or otherwise,

  Our inclusive knowledge about things has limitation of its own,

  Nothing conclusive could be said about all the mysteries,

  Merely His name is Real One,

  This Real One is not mysterious indeed,

  Limited knowledge of ours serves the nobler cause of humans.

   

  All Truth is from Supreme Being,

  There can be no real warfare between reason,

  And revelation by any being,

  The mysterious but beautiful vision is possible,

  When thou, single mindedly, concentrate on the One – Supreme Being,

  Who mysteriously created thee and the mysterious Universe around,

  Elements like the ether, the water, the air, the fire,

  And the heavens above sustain our life,

  For survival of all and sundry,

  Yet all are imbued in mystery.

  A Sweet and Mysterious one indeed!!

   

  Harbans Khajuria

   

WORRY

  WORRY

 

A worry for a work not expected to be finished,

As thee anticipated,

A worry for not reaching the destined place,

On time and losing thyself in the bargain,

Beginning something with a heavy heart,

For the end result,

Worries for not meeting targets,

Worry – consequence of excessive consciousness,

Brings in its wake less confidence,

A self created notion,

That whatever you’ll put your hand on,

Will go bust, though, that belief may be unfounded,

Too much concern for expressions,

In various ways, engendering self consciousness,

An exaggerated sense,

Of self importance,

Soursed and egged from excessive dose,

Of Ego  and its aggrandisement,

Self importance, others, beings just on the fringe,

A man on crucial mission,

An over-ambitious one,

Aspiring over-reach to the stars in the universe,

Every bump and turn in life,

Results into still more worry in turn,

Worry for riches and not meeting standards set for thyself,

Tension goes upstream,

Rationality takes back seat,

Confidence takes a downslide,

Here the harbinger of hope is,

The thought that thee is not the doer,

Belief that Creator’s presence will kill worries head on,

When end result is not thought of,

But action holds prominance,

Only action, with His Gentle Touch,

Will make huge differnce,

And infuse immense confidence,

A first step in success of any mission under the sun,

Knowing less about the limitations,

Of a being,

It is akin to worrying,

Of a hen for its eggs to be hatched,

 

If initially, results are not on expected lines,

Should be left to His wish,

Which will prove to be a game changer,

Seemingly, a solution to our vexing problem,

By axing the element of worry from our midst,

For a better present,

Aworriless course for a bumpless road,

For smooth sailing and healthy living,

An egoless trail,

Tailormade by His Grace.

 

HARBANS KHAJURIA

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ATTACHMENT

Heart is the storehouse of emotions,

Emotions, which well up in our mind’s eyes,

generating a feeling of nearness,

In our midst,

So intense is that feeling that sometimes,

These emotions go out of control,

Or become brakeless,

Breaking us in the bargain,

And take us to the slippery road of our life,

Sometimes the attachment is so intense,

That we become ruthless,

And act animal like,

 

Over-indulgence for our body,

Caring more for it,

Like it were, be all and end all for us,

When we go over-board,

In our liking for our body,

It is like biting more than you can chew,

Giving little time for refining or cleaning the innate recesses of our mind,

For making it moralistic and humane,

Clean we make from outer side,

But inside its blackness peeps out, now and then,

 

Over attachment with our relations held dear –  than needed,

This attachment too becomes brakeless,

Bringing pain and misery,

When dears break the heart that cares more,

 

Too much attachment with the things we aspire for,

For show and false standings in the society,

As if it were the only purpose for which we are born,

Sometimes, closeness of our dears is woefully forgotten,

For acquiring wealth and pelf we want,

For its aggrandisement we maim our dears,

Because now we attach more importance,

To wealth and things than humans,

We pretend to hold dear,

Thus turning down the apple-cart of love previously held shakingly,

And had wishfully created for our selfish end,

But alas! deflated because of our love for innimates,

 

Then, attachment with pleasures in our life is without a limit,

And makes us prisoner of our own thinking,

Attachment is akin to being,

Obsessed with something,

Obsession, which seeps into our blood stream,

 

Too much of attachment is like a bad debit,

Which we pay everyday with interest accrued,

But principle remains in tack,

Stairing large in the eyes,

It is like carrying a cup full of water,

To the ocean full of water, already,

 

Let go the extra dose of attachment,

With anything or anybody,

It brings in its wake,

Suffering and pain,

 

Be attached with the earth,

Which holds you dearly,

Feeding us all,

Puffs fresh air in our body,

We pollute this Mother of ours without any pity,

Yet, Mother Earth gives everything,

Giving everything,

Expecting nothing,

From us humans.

 

Too much attachment is thus a curse,

Lest it becomes a cause of thy own failing,

Thus falling in the pit you have dug for thyself,

Be careful, in not playing nay overplaying the drama of attachment,

Otherwise it will result in writng an epitoph with words,

“Died because of over-indulgence,

to animates and inanimate in short the span of life”

Dears, thus, forget not the truth that,

We should hold dear only our ideals,

For removing the ill-will, illness,

That plagues us in our midst,

It will help us till posterity,

And not temporary things which are transactory.

 

HARBANS KHAJURIA