Temporarily in Phase

Like a Tibetan prayer wheel
Every thing repeats
Twenty four seven
From my heart beat
To the musical overtures
Moon’s wean and wax
The glorious sunset follows
The picturesque sunrise
The winter roles into the spring
That jumps quickly into the lap of the summer
Which hibernates in the den of the winter again
Every thing repeats
From cell cycle to earth’s serenade around the sun
As if the world is running on a treadmill on a spot.

On the other hand
Only the change is the signature of permanence
Gone are the days of the manual type writers
The slide rules
The black and white TVs
And fountain pens
Every body is looking at the LCD screen
And typing away incessantly.
Instead of tuning the monstrous radio
I listen to the music online
Calling India does not consume a day
Or cost an arm and a leg
I don’t even need a phone
To call some one overseas.
My tiny tender baby daughter
My ever sleepy baby boy
Are all grown up and on their own now
The thunderous voice of my father
Is silenced for ever
My baby sisters’ kids have babies
Youth of my mom and even mine
Can only be seen in photos.
The eternal rhythm
Of birth and death
Of heartbreaks and ecstasy
Of gaining and losing it all
Of soprano and silence continues
Ignoring the job that time does on all of us.
((*.*))
Babru

June 2008