Hinglish Satire

A Humorous Satire in Hinglish ! 

ऐसा क्या लिखूँ...that I laugh out;

कैसे लिखूँ... That I feel proud;

दिन तो बीत जाते है... Simply Crafted Studio. की basement म;ें 

सुपुत्री के इशारों और directions के बीच में; 

कभी inventory listing,

कभी stocktaking, 

कभी cartons packing ,

Pen के बदले हाथ में थम गए,

Products ही products.

साथ में ताकीद. ..

Handle with care!

Extra care के चक्कर में

कविता हो गई गुम

Thoughts ran out...

चलो जान छूटी।

Pen की ink माशाल्लाह सूख गई।

कभी डिब्बे डालो, कभी निकालो,

कभी tagging कभी pricing 

बस इसी में सुबह से शाम, और

शाम रात में बदल जाती है

कविता, चिलमन से झांकती है , और

मुझे अंगूठा दिखाती है।

Kiren Babal

14.10.2015

Happy Independence

Happy Independence

What kind of independence is this?

Retired army officers,who served the country,

Protecting lives of us citizens, 

Sacrificed their comforts.....

To give us the security and comforts

Today in their very own country, are

Laticharged, dragged, manhandled....

by the police of this country, 

at who's behest?...And for what?

For peaceful settlement, of

The issue of pension?

The Govt. in a bid to prove their point, always

Plays the blame game on other parties 

like a tennis shot, on Congress, App, and whom not.

Is there anyone to question our respected PM 

Narendra Damodardas Modi, the ruling govt. 

The police fraternity, being in their control ,

Do we understand that the BJP govt is...

Hands and glove in this shameful act.

It pains further to know , that

Sons and daughters of these retired officers.

Are posted on the borders to protect

Their motherland and us citizens.

Imagine their bleeding hearts to know

Their parents in the dusk of life

Being manhandled by the very own people back home.

What kind of independence is this?

My head falls in shame,

When I say 'Happy Independence', or

Proud to be an Indian

And with a heavy heart sing....

Sare Jahan seh Acha Hindustan Hamara! 

Kiren Babal

15.8.2015

Gujjiyas

The whirlwind of colours 

may have mellowed

The hues lingers on. 

Faded colours 

on hands and faces

or streaks in the hair

narrate of a saga

How beautifully played ! 

The mouth savouring

Gujjiyas and Thandai

The joyous tipsy feeling

playing with our senses

Still play a symphony, like

drinking the nectar

of melodious

morning ragas

Eyes satiated but tastebuds

craving evermore . 

A humble request for more. . . 

How could I ignore? 

So the action replay

of a Chef ,I proudly claim ; 

Yet another round, of 

those lovely Gujjiyas

for friends and family

I present 

once more. 

#Kiren Babal

8. 3. 2015

Gourmet Fare

Gourmet Fare!

This time poetry was written in the kitchen,

to express my views, I held no pen,

Instead made use of some new tools

Pots and pan, oh t'was so cool.

What would be the subject matter, I thought, 

"Vegetables and desserts, you nitwit head,

Don't you remember the pumpkin I brought."

My inner voice constantly rattled in my head. 

"I want something special for guests tonight"

"Bother not,"said the voice within,

"Inside every stomach it'll churn all right."

Still I implored to dish out a gourmet fare.

"All right," guided the inner voice

"Get a pumpkin if that is all you care.

follow instructions to the tee...

Cutting ,chopping ,washing and cooking."

The puree was ready in a jiffy.

Next in the pan, boiled the milk

Till it thicken turned into half.

In went the puree , colour enhanced,

From white to creamier yellow.

"Wow," I nodded my head in satiation

"It actually looks a gourmet fare!"

"It's not complete, you silly woman,"

Can a dish be ready without sweetness? 

So in went the sugar, nuts , and aromatic spices

The medley boiled and thickened further.

The aroma spread in all surroundings;

Off from the fire,for the dish was ready.

Poured into a glass dish, chilled,layered 

And garnished with diced mangoes.

In all this my inner voice scorned, laughed

Called me, nitwit, silly, dumb head and what not!

I braved it all, with spirits high, and collars up

For I had mastered the art of making

PUMPKIN DESSERT!

Kiren Babal

8.8.2015.

New year eve..2016

ON THE EVE OF NEW YEAR 2016.

Days and nights

Sun , moon and stars;

The whole galaxy,

glides ceaselessly.

Inside the days and nights, 

Seasons change colours,

From autumn, spring,winter,summers,

ceaselessly, harmoniously.

The mother earth turns,

a new leaf everyday,

Playing the dance of life;

Singing it's own song, melodiously. 

But not to miss, is the moment, most precious,

When the Two Presidents of Time,

The passing out (2015) and ushering in (2016)

Come face to face holding their goblets,

Clinking their glasses,with cheers galore,

Raising a toast, good wishes and luck to behold;

2015 wished happy tidings to a new beginning,

A new rising sun, new history in the making!

2016 dressed in all fineries, 

holding the baton,bright and shining,

Bade his friend , a befitting farewell, 

for the innings played and landmarks made.

With happy cheers, and jubilation,

The band played it's melodious song, 

Night queen moved gracefully on the wheels of time.

2015 faded in oblivion ,2016 rose on the horizon 

Bringing new hope, cheers,celebrations 

And joys for one and all...

HAPPY NEW YEAR 2016.

 

Kiren Babal

27.12.2015

Cross and Knots

In loving memory of my two brothers who left this plane in the prime youth.

Many years may have passed...still have that shimmering connect intact.

Now I dedicate this poem to Gobind...Be happy wherever you are!

Cross and knots!

My heart ached 

For the dear ones;

Tears trickled down 

One by one...

The night queen moved slowly

Humming sad melodies;

With every departed moment

I yearned for you;

As every withered flower

Gave away its scent....

Many a seasons 

We witnessed together;

Growing up 

With sibling rivalry.

Yet the thread of bond

Remains strong .

The umbilical cord

Cut was new at every birth;

Our blessed womb

remained the same.

The love the care

The nurture though

Everything remained same.

Our karmic connections, but

Had streaks totally different.

You reside now 

In a different plane;

Far beyond reach

As love and light;

Yet in dreams 

We meet & greet;

Play our game, of

CROSS & KNOTS.

Our soul connect, 

will remain intact;

Crossing barriers

throughout Eternal ;

Playing our game of

CROSS AND KNOTS.

Kiren

'84

Song of Life

Kiren Babal added 2 new photos.

Life starts at the break of dawn,

The sun god appearing on the horizon

Of the azure sky like a peridot

spreading it's soothing warmth 

Making golden patterns on the water

Swaying gently in rhythm

with the gentle caress of the wind

A set pattern, of daily walk

The sylvan park, our district park

Seemingly everything looks same

Yet there is always a new sight a new story

However small..nature does tell us all.

One day I see the angelic beauties

Gliding majestically in a neat row

Like a marching parade

Resounding the atmosphere

With their Colossal quack?

Then on a moron side path

Grains strewn by people and a friendly call

Pigeon's parrots seven sisters, maynahs and peacocks

Chattering and eating their meal in harmony

No less than a round table conference

A harmony worth learning

For us humans.

The sight of peacock pair

Perched atop the the highest branch

A sight so rare to come accross

Adorning the green Foliage

Singing their unmindful morning song,

deep throttle cooing,

For everyone to hear.

Majestically displaying their presence to all

Their authority none to defy

In the role of a guardian to one and all.

Kiren Babal

11.6.2015