Dear Dad

A father is

Like that lonesome

 Tree on a

Smog-filled

 Twisted

 Street

 That

Shades you in

Hot summers,

Protects you

From sudden heavy

 Passing showers;

In winters,

From bitter winds

And harsh hail,

And,

In the multi-hued

 Spring season,

Showers you with

Scented flowers,

Transforming you

Into a magical figure,

Clad in pink-red petals;

And after death,

Lingers in your aching

Longing heart

Like a beautiful dream,

And

Irrigating the inner

Landscapes with

His gentle

Fragrant presence,

Not felt  by others.

Wastage of food

Every day Tanya wants pizza,

And Rohit, his Big Mac,

While Papa orders his

Paneer-tikka along with

Butter-chicken with lots

Of garlic-onion;

Mama likes her pasta

And burgers and fried noodles;

The family eats lot of

Un-burnt calories in their

Heavy meals,

Sitting idle before

Wide-screen TV

In their pricey

Well-lit Mumbai home,

The family eats

 And

Never watches the

Tilting scales,

The leftovers are daily

Meant for the distant

 Land-fills and dumps;

While, little Laxmi,

Few blocks away,

Living in the crowded

Damp slum,

Often goes hungry

To her disturbed sleep

Along with other crying siblings,

As they have nothing

To eat in their dim-lit

8x8 pavement- tin-home;

Cannot this imbalance

In lifestyles be corrected?

Asks Tanya’s young

Ideal teacher, in a

Voice sonorous,

By avoiding waste,

Sharing untouched food

And eating simple meals?

(On World Environment Day, let us re-dedicate ourselves to the hungry in a divided world where, as per a recent UN report, more than 20,000 kids under five years of age die daily of hunger.)

Taksim Park cries

In the development-obsessed

 Istanbul,

They angry Turks congregate

In millions now

For a different cause—

The Taksim  Gezi Park,

The last of green lungs

For the about 14 million residents,

In the name of growth,

The elite want an old Ottoman-era

 Military barracks and a mall,

By quickly demolishing the Gezi Park

And an agitated public, its own park,

The conflict escalates,

Tear gas cans and water cannon and canes

Charge, trying to suppress popular voice;

In this now-classic war between armed rulers

And the peaceful ruled, bereft of any arms,

Trees crystallize old discontents, suppression of rights,

It is same everywhere now---

The SEZs (Special Economic Zones) vs. the dwindling farms and trees,

Somebody wise must stand up and tell the blind/ deaf regimes

In such global hot spots:

If there won’t be the latter,

Even we won’t be, on a warming planet,

And your costly malls will become---

Upscale concrete mausoleums;

Hark!

Otherwise, more

Tahrir Squares to come!

Nectar

A tiny insect

White

Hovers tentatively

Over the bright green

Foliage and

Scarlet/orange-red flowers

Of the two Gulmohars,

This humid morning,

Creating a vivid canvas live;

The Flamboyant tree imported

From the great and varied Madagascar,

Well-adapted and in bloom,

Despite smog and hot weather,

Multi-hued, slender, full of shade:

A visual delight in Mumbai and elsewhere,

Brightening up the dull noisy streets,

The insect buzzing around and

Searching for that elusive nectar---

Sorely missing in urban life.