THE TALE OF BABU, THE SHOE-MAKER’S SON

     

               

                     

             

 

1)            Babu, the cobbler’s boy in a village small

               Staying in a ruined cottage far away

               With broken roof and moldering walls

               His father worked in a shop on meagre pay

               With stubble beard and overgrown dark hair

               He looked too poor with heavy debts and despair.

2)            Babu never revealed his family woes

               With fewer clothes, he dressed himself look neat    

               Though poor, he never appeared sad and morose

               Sincere in studies, humble and discreet.

               His friendly nature won him many classmates

               His teachers too helped him knowing his humble state.

3)            His mother worked as a domestic maid

               His sisters as laborers in the neighboring farm

               No loan he got though he earnestly tried;

               His friends took him to the church in a valley calm

               With sympathy the pastor heard his plea

               He bought his books and paid school fee.

4)           The pastor’s words infused much hope and cheer

               He thought deeply about his wretched fate

               Babu became Benjamin without any fear

               No help from others to set right his state.

               His mother found her shelter in church service

               Free from debts his father too felt a sense of peace.

5)           As untouchables now they need not dwell

              They need not groan under the growing debt

              Freed from farm work his sisters studied well

              They need not face insults and lender’s threats

              Completing his studies Babu did pursue

              A course in shoe-making with attention due.

6)          Away from home he learnt the language new

             Mingling with peers and teaching them the art

             Of tanning leather and shoe-making he knew

             To start his own industry he ever thought

             Along with friends he set up his stall

             A humble beginning with capital small. 

7)         Though slow, in course of time his business grew

            A larger show room did he take on rent

            All kinds of shoes he sold with models new

            He applied for bank loan and got consent

            Cautiously spending without much fanfare

            Whatever he got, with friends did he share.

8)        By dint of perseverance and hard work he made

           A popular brand of shoes and supplied

           Updating the skills of his family trade

           In spite of problems he never sighed

           His family felt relief as they prospered well

           By his support and help they did happily dwell.

9)       His teachers felt a sense of joy and pride

          To see a poor shoe-maker’s son’s uprise

          Hard work and humility in him all espied

          Though poor he is friendly, bold and wise

          Jobs he gave to many in his shoe store

           In spite of wealth he remained humble as before.

                

                     **********************  

    27th August, 2019                                Somaseshu Gutala

           

           

           

           

          

          

                   

               

               

Early Birds (Part—II)

 

                       

       

                        Gone are the times when the milk-boy came

                        Driving his cow or buffalo up to our home

                        To draw milk into the pail with hissing froth

                        And pour fresh pure milk with no water mixt; 

                        

                         But now in the grey dim light of the dawn

                         With a load of milk-sachets he has to go

                         Moving up and down the stairs with athletic speed

                         Dropping milk packets of various brands

                         Marking each flat’s ordered items;

                         Hundreds of homes he touches with winged feet

                         He comes and vanishes, no time to speak

                         Even if he drops wrong items sometimes;

                         His going thence felt by his tapping shoes;

                         After this breathtaking breaking schedule

                         He has to run to school or to work in a shop

                         To prop his family with his meagre returns;

                         The chilly weather pinches his warm limbs

                         As he tightens his lips and moves with hurried steps;

                         No time for him to sleep in warm, soft cosy bed

                         No time to drink hot coffee in leisurely way

                         With early sunrise he has to start his day;

                         If he by chance doth skip his work one day

                         Our morning hours become too cold and grey

                         His ringing bicycle bell, a welcome happy call

                         As merry as a rooster’s cry in early morn;     

                  

                         For all who crave for hot coffee in morning time;

                         Like chirping birds skipping from bough to bough

                         Looking for bits of crumbs with nimble looks.                       

                           ********************************

   
                 19th August, 2019                   Somaseshu Gutala

                                  

                 

                       

                  

EARLY BIRDS (PART--I)

       

                           He rises at the hour of rising sun

                            Facing heat, chill and rain

                            To rise so early though hard it seems

                            He has to, his means of livelihood.

                            He has to race with flying time

                            Like a speeding dart he has to be swift and smart

                            He has to stop at every threshold and flat

                            And fling newspapers with precision bold

                            In a trice he has to rush to another lane

                            No time to halt and listen to others

                            A mechanical routine with no time to breathe;

                            Still so many papers to distribute, ha has to run

                            Still so many commitments left undone;

                            In this mad rushing world he has to sustain

                            Himself doing odd jobs and doing part-time course

                            A strange profession with no time to read at ease

                            Relaxing in a sofa, sipping morning tea;

                            In chilly weather and in sultry heat

                            In drenching rain and in foggy morning gloom

                            He has to move, he has to rush like morning gale

                            To greet with latest news and surprising facts;

                            Ushering in changes and kindling hopes;

                            A paperboy, a simple creature, he may seem

                            A true messenger who foregoes his morning sleep

                            And runs like a clock and keeps himself on toes

                            To keep us in touch with latest news and views

                            To make us see the future trends and hopes

                            In this fast changing news-obsessed world;  

                         

                        ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

                            

MEDITATING IN THE PARK

     

 

1)         Compressed like sardines in these narrow streets

             Surrounded every side by concrete walls

             Nowhere I found a peaceful retreat

             To sit and meditate away from all.

2)          Loud voices and shouts echo from every side

             Not an inch of space left between buildings at all

             The city seems a restless swelling tide

             Filled with so many buildings and shopping malls.

3)         Away from those groups of people old

            Doing nothing but talk about their state

            Of health and their family’s feelings cold

            Of ebbing morals and endless political debates.

4)        Away from those women advanced in age

           Cribbing about their family feuds and strain

           About their loss of freedom and rebellious rage

           Of their sons and their partners’ fashions vain.

5)       Away from those idling youngsters proud

           Loafing and giggling with girls in bushes behind

           Away from drunken rogues and shouting crowd

           A peaceful place I tried to find to soothe my mind.

6)         No plan or vision seen in this concrete expanse

            The city grew like a monster beyond limits

             Devouring lakes, storm drains, farm lands and lawns

             None can revive lost things—beyond one’s wits.

7)         Looking for a solitary spot here means

            Searching for water in dry desert heat

            Amidst this tangled network of roads is seen

            A pretty park in a nook with sheltered seats.

8)         My search for Holy Grail succeeded well

             I entered the park to settle down at ease

             I sat in lotus pose and tried to feel the spell

             Of calm surroundings and gentle breeze.

9)         My pondering mood broken at once by cries

             Of children playing in wanton ways

             All my hopes dashed, my quick temper did rise

             Shaking my fists, those devils did I chase.

10)       With mocking howls they fled away from there

             I cursed those goblins for disturbing my mind

              I closed my eyes and tried to be aware

             Of my inner feelings away from dreary kind.

11)      From distance heard the sounds of kids at play

            Free from restless worries of the day

            Why so merry, why so carefree, why so much gay?

            Happy like sweet blossoms in happy May.

12)      Their guileless mirth brought back legends of the past

            The childish pranks of the Lord as a blue cowherd

            Sharing butter with mates stolen from pots

            Playing and jumping in the woods like merry birds.

13 )      My mind flew back to happy times remote

            When we did rollick and roll with delight

             On velvet-green where dragon flies did float

             In jolly chase we leaped to catch their nimble flight.

14)       Such earnest hearty laughter long forgot

             Such carefree days of pristine innocence

             Above the earthly pull of worldly thoughts

             Can we regain by meditation and penance?

15)        Those happy kids playing there in the park

              Happy like floating clouds or singing larks

              Caught my casual gaze as I sat in the dark

              A sense of guilt I felt for my angry remarks.

16)        Is it not true essence of carefree bliss

             In spite of living long, why we still miss?

             Our minds buried under passions and prejudice

             Thinking too much, we make our lives a puzzling abyss.

17)        In their loud shouts throbbing delight I trace

             No lurking gloom and intentions base

             They seem a part of Nature, a harmonious race

              My heart unburdened, I left that place. 

                ***************************************

     6th August, 2019                                   Somaseshu Gutala

     
      Search for Holy Grail = search for something which is very hard to

      find. The Holy Grail refers to the cup used by Jesus Christ at the

      Last Supper. Many Medieval knights tried in vain to find that cup.