The Quiver

The Quiver

The quiver is empty

The bow lies still

The arrows all sent

To various sites.

They tread their own pastures

Reap their own soil

Oblivious to the thought

Of the forlorn path.

But pray tell me please

Why not flash a smile?

To the quiver 

It once belonged.

Kiren Babal

26.8.2013

A Stand Alone Spirit

A stand alone spirit

A philosophy of life

Or an acid test

A self reflection

Mirror perception

The witness 

The challenge

Being belittled

The struggles of life

And every despair.

Every fibre of my 

Conscience 

Subconscious

Unconscious

Moves forward 

Zealously.

Cheerfully plays

This acid test.

Living life

With never defeating 

A. stand.alone.spirit

Caravans follow

Kiren Babal

23.12.2013

Rare Sight

Rare Sight

Sunday leisure morning

Walking on the terrace

Mild breeze, soothing rays 

Dew-filled grass caressing my feet

Playing with my senses

Penetrating deep-----

Filled my heart

With ecstacy.

Energised walked in pace,

Eyes hovering around

Garden in full bloom

A beautiful spectacle. 

Pink and orange boginvilas

Hanging against the wall

Petunias, Dahlias, Phlox, Roses

Red Easter lilies, a riot of colours

Beautifully arranged against

Backdrop of green hedges.

Sweet scent, filled the nostrils, 

Exhilerating and lifting the spirits.

But exquisite of all, was a little 'weaver nest ' 

Dangling from the boginvilas stem.

Then, spotting the side view of a tiny bird,

perched in her nestling;

Her dainty long black beak and cautious eye 

gazing with apprehension.

Was just quick enough to click a glimpse

Making sure not to scare the tiny creature.

Every fibre of my being, filled with rapture,

I walked away marvelling and savouring

Nature's rare sight.

Kiren Babal

5.4.2014

Permanent Friend

My Energy Boosters

My energy boosters

Nature has its own way

To heal, please 

and fill us 

with ecstacy.

Mind like a wild horse

always searching 

a weaker spot

to pin us down

into the dumps, 

and fully soak 

with negative thoughts.

Between mind and heart

Always a tug- of- war 

To remain afloat 

with positive thought.

And win the game of life

in every right . 

One such moment,

like a kick off

weekend spent

With my grand kids.

Time swept by,

Over game of ludo

My losing 

Their elation

giggles and cheers

All therapy to me.

And I come back home

With peppy heart

To play the game of life.

To catch the bull

And pin it down

Like a piccador.

Letting out

a loud cheer

Kiren babal

12.4.2014

Dangling Flight

Dangling flight

With wings tied onto its toes

As if chased by its foes

From dawn to dusk

Time rushes by.

The echelons of mind 

Flash many a realms

In a single moment

Of endless thoughts.

One moment its a rogue

Baring and daring evil

Next second its a friend

Gentle , pure like an angel.

And my countenance blocked

In the web of endless thoughts.

Dangling between friends and foe

Disentangling and scuffling.

Trying to make peace

Within and without

Creating impression

On the sands of time.

Kiren Babal

9.3.2014

The Master Chef

It's the same house

It's the same me

Something reviewed

Vision renewed.

Sweet scents fill the air

A wave of magic wand

A role of master chef

Ready with gourmet fare.

Friends---- delightful souls

God's footprints

Presence felt

And I laughed inside out.

Serving all

Immense delight

Symphony played

And my efforts well paid.

Kiren Babal

5.8.2013

An Ode to Pacific

Pacific O Pacific

pride of San Francisco;

Standing on this Golden Gate Bridge,

As far as my sight goes,

Your audience I rejoice.

The mist so dense, pure and pristine

Veils you around, so thick and high; Touching the sky-----

I feel the cold winds touch my face, 

But the barrier is there between you and me.

How I wish to be face to face, Dear Pacific!

My hands reach out to touch you

I breathe hard to feel you;

But all I see is nothing but the mist

No ocean, no sky, but only the mist; for all to see. 

Where are you O Pacific?

So boundless and magnificent,

Hiding behind the veil of mist;

You are there, I know for sure.

How I wished to have wings to fly

Reach up to you , touch you, feel you and kiss you.

The grandeur, hues, pristine beauty

I bow to Thee who made you so..........

Kiren Babal

22. 8. 2013

Adieu America

Adieu America

Adieu America till I come again

Back to India where I do belong. 

The vacation filled with fun and frolic

Extending all help as much as I could

And hearts to bond with family good

T'was a happy moment that I stepped on your soil

To grace the ocassion of newborn Mira--- the 2nd grandchild.

Kyra and Mira my two jewels make me so proud

To relive the joyous childhood of my dear son.

Being called Dadi is now music to ears.

The walks in the meadow trail with green forest around.

The golden grass field spread uptill farthest ground

Turned lush green when downpoured for a week

The black birds ornated with orange crest

Right where their wings do attach

Displayed full orange balls when flew in the air.

Spotting a deer was a rare treat

And little baby snake coiled on a toadstool

Enjoying the sun , the sight so vivid.

A visit to Niagra how could I forget

Gorging froth of water for eyes to savour.

A rainbow spread added colour to the water

I Gracefully bowed at God's roaring power

A short and sweet visit to California

The vineyards, the golden gate bridge

The Union square with a tall pillar

And standing atop statue of an Admiral

Skyscrapers surrounding looking so grand

All of them flashed on my memory span

Adieu America till I come again

Your sweet memories shall cherish within

Bidding you farewell with tear filled eyes

Thanking all hosts for the love they showered

#Kiren Babal

31. 8. 2013

Welcome home

Welcome Home

They're say East or West home is the best

I do agree but with a litmus test

Still basking in joys of a vacation

I thought the house to be at it best

Little did I know what was there to be 

In the name of welcome this is what I see

Opening the doors I walked in good humour

The funny rat smell rose like a fever

The puddle in the drawing room made me gasp

The carpet fully soaked , shook me off the floor

The dust all around as nobody's business.

A sight good enough to make me nauseate

The riverie broke as a glass crashing on the floor

For I visualised myself ready in a new role

Adorned with broom, duster, apron and mop.

The day flew by fulfilling the chores

And sweat trickling down with ceaseless flow

By the night as I hit the bed

Ah! I sighed, 'Welcome home' and passed out

# Kiren Babal

9. 3. 2013