Gandhi, By the Bridge

By Gaurav Parab

Judgment has been passed by lesser men

I am not worthy now, I will not be worthy then

As I walk with her fingers held in my hand

On that bridge next to Deccan Bus Stand

She is saying something about the sparkling river

I am distracted by the answers I deliver

As we cross the third pillar on our right

I see an old man of around medium height

He is staring at that lone star in the sky

As my love looks at me for a reply

I mumble something as we walk along

Something about that old man was wrong

I bid her goodbye, but she is not on my mind

I rush back to the bridge I had left behind

The old man is still there with that look in his eyes

He is sitting now, gazing at the open skies

I am hesitant, since this does not happen everyday

I go up to him and speak, “Sir, is everything ok?”

He smiles back and says, What is the time ?

I am relieved, and I answer, “It is almost nine”

He clears his throat and says, I am doing great

Though I miss my mum, and her food on my plate

What happened to your mother, I ask the old man

She passed away, before this century began

I never married young man; she was the most precious to me

I am Gaurav Sir, though my friends call me GP

He shakes my firm outstretched hand

An old man of eighty, and me by Deccan bus stand

I am sorry Sir, I never asked your name

Second name Gandhi, no other claim to fame

I smile back at his quick little joke

For the next five minutes none of us spoke

I thought something was wrong, so I stopped by

You thought this crazy old man was here to die ?

I shrug my shoulders and smile at him

You know I am a happy old man, I just look grim

I live alone by my house down that street

I keep an hour a day for me to eat

Then when the walls start closing in

I come to this bridge, his face breaks free into a grin

Don’t you have a sister or a friend somewhere?

Yes, they love me but they don’t care

They meet me every now and then

Only they know when I will see them again

Why did you stop by young GP?

I was looking for lessons Mr Gandhi

Lessons from an old accountant! he shakes his head

There is a lesson in everything, my mother once said

On mothers and their sacrifices we discuss

God could not be everywhere, so he sent them to us

It has been an hour and I say I have to go

You were the first conversation in a year, you know

Thank you is all Gandhi has to say

As I am on my way

I look back and wave a quick goodbye

As a tear escapes his eye

I look up to nod at his mum in that star

I know I have to go very far

Flying Saucer

By Gaurav Parab

Racing along on an endless road

Constrained thoughts, feelings overflowed

I believed in the triumph of life over death

With his passing, my belief took its last breath

I just want my beliefs to reach somewhere

So I am not sinking here, or floating there

As my motorcycle screams through the nights

I look up and I see three twinkling lights

I used to believe in the words I wrote and said

But the meaning in them lies long dead

The lights seem to follow as I look above

I once believed in the loveliness of love

My motorcycle’s engine taunts my life lived in vain

The cynic inside believes it is an aeroplane

But the lights are following me, are they not?

Remnants of innocence that believe a lot

 I once believed that I will always be a child

Then time found a way to run wild

I once believed that working hard pays

Those wheeler dealers showed other ways

Then I believed in the power of a cause

Little men and women with their fake applause

I had reason to believe I was tougher than the rest

A weaker person then changed the test

Not too long ago, I thought everyone is brilliantly unique

Mediocrity I came across, that doesn’t even deserve a critique

I shake my head

Mediocrity everywhere

As I let go of the handle bar, and I slowly look up

The sum of my disbeliefs erupts

Those lights are still, but I am not sure

All I want is an unknown to discover

I know it is a flying saucer! It has to be one!

I so want to believe that my beliefs are not yet done.

Renegade Breeze

By Gaurav Parab

Things are just as they are supposed to be

Wrong words reaching the right addressee

I see her on the way to the bar a little unstable

She will be the ‘once upon a time’ in some fable

My earth shifts hesitantly for a better view

Dark fury of the world, trapped inside eyes light blue

Eyes accusing a boy somewhere of unknown sin

Clueless lime floating in the wrong glass of Gin

She breathes heavily, and looks down at her plate

Hands angrily stirring a potion of delightful hate

Then she raises her eyes for a few seconds

An earth shattering hush beckons

I raise my glass from across the room

You don’t know me, she defiantly assumes

I know you all right Sinner, as my eyes freeze

I find myself looking at the original renegade breeze