Life of a leaf

The life of a leaf is is strange indeed,
starting from the tree to end as if free.
Summer comes and then it is autumn,
allowing it to fall as if from heaven.

The wind comes and at it blows,
attached loosely, it quickly falls.
Not alone it is but accompanied, 
others are also falling besides it. 

Like a child to his mother is attached,a leaf, 

I was attached to my branch instead. 

Cherished and drawing subsistence, 

I grew to provided shade with help of my brethren. 

Rain, storm and screeching wind i withstood, 

providing shelter as a good tree should. 

As humans age I started to age too 

my colour from green became a golden hue. 

Dry weather made me wrinkled and papery dry 

to fall at the slightest tug I wondered why? 

I had the wisdom of time with me 

like senior citizens in any society. 

A gust of wind came and tugged at me 

to fall or travel where the breeze took me. 

To rest below as a golden leaves carpet, 

or to travel to distant places like a tourist. 

My golden colour facinates children, 

They think the sun in me is hidden. 

Strange toys they make of me, 

Leaf boat, windmill and whistle. 

I am ready to undergo this ordeal indeed, 

as I feel I should be fully utilised. 

When fully used and no longer viable, 

on ground i am thrown to become dust inevitable. 

renukakkar 21.5.2012 

Copyright@2012 

Life is not always full of melancholy

I sat in my room pondering,

my life's direction I was wondering.

Thinking that life is now quite static,

is it really suppose to be like this?

I rise on the tide of success one day,

promptly falling to the ground later I say.

Sometimes life happily pulls me up, 

throwing me later as if a discarded cup.

Life is never plain sailing and easy,

but life so heartless is indeed a pity.

One struggles through impending doom,

creating happiness in the surrounding gloom.

God gives on one hand without my asking,

taking away something from the other without telling.

My expectations perhaps make me gloomy,

Life is not always full of melancholy.

Just my way of making noise,

calling attention so I can enjoy.

happiness and sadness two sides of a coin.

Like rain comes and then there is sunshine.

renukakkar 4.5.2012

Copyright@2012

Mohabbat karne wale

Mohabbat karne wale 

Mohabbat karne wale apno pe hai marte

Dil wale hai vo Dushman se nafrat nahi karte.

Jise chaaha sadaa ke liye ussi ke ho liye

Apne aap se bhi vo dhoka nahi hai karte.

Yaado mai basaaye hai har pal jinke

anso chupaye vo roya nahi karte.

Tumhe raas na aye mubbhat karni humse

Dikhave ki mohabbat to hum bhi nahi karte.

Tumhare naam pe likh dee hazaro kavita

Itni baate to koi shayar bhi nahi karte.

renukakkar26.4.2012

Copyright@2012

The flying machine

A poem for children

As I fly in my machine over hills and valleys,

I see a pretty girl looking to the skies.

She hears the sound of the flying machine,

but cannot see me, so I opine.

My machine is a new plane that I made,

it flies just above the treetop's surface.

I can see all the shy birds in the trees,

It is a delight to see where all they hide.

My machine is invisible to all and sundry,

no one has made something like it you see.

No one can see me that is for sure,

Unless I raise the shield for fresh air.

Soon my flying machine is alongside,

she turns around  as if to take flight.

Her hair blows all over her pretty face

she tries to see through the impending haze.

Soon I burst out in fits of laughter,

audible to her like running water.

she flings a stick blindly into the air,

manages my wheels to strongly strike.

The laughter now is from her for sure

I am the one looking towards its repair.

The shield lifts suddenly due to the impact

I jump out thinking I would be whacked

But the joke is on me for sure today,

her brothers have been waiting today.

I get a thrashing that I will never forget,

The flying machine is not for nonsense.

renukakkar 16.04.2012

Copyright @2012

The Man in the Moon(Chanda Mama)

Sometimes you see him, and sometimes you don’t.

When night light is dim, he is seen at the horizon.

As he moves across the sky, disappearing as the sun rises.

Spreading less or more light and increasing its shape and size.

Fascinated we were by Grandmother calling him Chanda Mama,

Meaning Moon Uncle (mother’s brother), great story teller.

Who puts us all to sleep, while he travels across the sky,

While we counted sheep, he glided across like a butter fly.

As kids, we saw him as the kind man in the moon with a smiling face,

While walking alone he was reassuring and gliding keeping with us same pace.

Growing up, the fascination with Chanda Mama or the man in the moon wanes,

But comes back in our children when we tell them his songs and poems.

renukakkar 30.3.2012

Copyright@2012

I will make you my destiny

 Come sit besides me for a short while
In my eyes I'll capture your picture
and I will make you my destiny  


On papery heart I will draw your sketch 
will hide it in the corner easy to fetch
I will make you my destiny


You will remain always there
my heartbeat you will be for ever
I will make you my destiny


You will understand whatever I say
and I will understand what you say  
I will make you my destiny


I want you and only you
you're my life's prayer/ destination true
I will make you my destiny  


renukakkar 17.2.2012
Copyright@2012

तुझे अपनी तक़दीर बना लू

दो पल बैठ मेरे साथ तू 
आँखों में तेरी तसवीर बसा लू 
तुझे अपनी तक़दीर बना लू 


कागजे दिल पे स्केत्च बना लू 
किसी कोनें में उसे छिपा लू 
तुझे अपनी तक़दीर बना लू 


हमेशा रहेगी (रहेगा ) मेरे पस तू
दिल की धड़कन बनजा रे तू 
तुझे अपनी तक़दीर बना लू 


मेरी बात हमेशा समझे तू    
तेरी बात हमेशा मैं समझू  
तुझे अपनी तक़दीर बना लू 


मुझे चाहिए सिर्फ तू ही तू 
मेरे जीवन की प्रार्थना है तू 
तुझे अपनी तक़दीर बना लू  


renukakkar 17.2.2012

Copyright@2012