Choosing Friends

Here's a different approach from me. I have tried to sum up a quote in the movie Julius Caesar into this verse. I have changed my usual rhyme scheme in this poem, and tried to make it short, both in length and width, to add some versatility in my poetry. I hope you enjoy it.

The quote is said by Pompey Magnus to Sulla, when asked about his opinion on Caesar (according to the movie).

Choosing friends

Who censure you
with no pretense,
to make them friends
is indeed sense.

Their words may seem
cruel to hear,
but they do speak
with hearts sincere.

Who smile at you
do naught, but flatter
of them beware!
You'd know better.

Great men have lost
not by enemy's strife;
but were struck down
by a turncoat's knife.

New Moon Night

I decided, to convert this funny experience I had some time back, into a poem. The 'Mr. A' over here actually refers to Mr. Bhushan (one of my uncles), who has a great sense of humor. I occasionally hang out with him and his family on holidays on his farmhouse at a remote village, away from the city life.


Mr. A, a man with wealth and charm
in far off village, he bought a farm.

About his arrival he went to apprise
the village elders, supposedly wise.

One elder invited him, at dusk to dine.
He said, 'to serve you, the pleasure is mine'.

At dinner that night the elder did warn,
"Every new moon night, near your barn

Your farm is haunted, warned you be,
By accursed female spirits three.

Those three died long ago some day,
At your very own farm, Mr. A

Many have heard their ghostly croon.
You mustn't wander on night of new moon"

Mr. A in fact a well known playboy,
Considered this tale for a moment coy.

“Thank you sir for your kind concern
This was important for me to learn.

Pray do me favor, tell village men
Should they chance to see those three again,

Tell those ghost women, that Mr. A
Has come to their place for prolonged stay

Having known this fact, those three will soon
Amend their schedule of nights, new moon.

The village would need not, anymore fright.
They'll come for my sake, every night"

Heard that before

My most recent poem, after I got back to my old hobby I abandoned 2 years back. I have made some changes to the poem, after suggestions from fellow poets from Poetry Junction.


Heard that before


'My dream', he said, 'is to be
Famous, popular, and rich filthy'
His father chuckled with little heed
'Ha!, I have heard that before, indeed'

But he grew up fast, in a finger's snap
Put a little deed in his career map
He missed his goals, messed his plan
Ended up as 'could have been' man.

Little left of his old ambitious thrust,
His dreams naught, but dreams dust
His life writ, a humble tome
Wife and kids, a modest home.

One day his son, aged thirteen plus,
Said, "I want to be richer than Croesus",
And the same chuckle he gave his son,
"Indeed, long back, I've heard that one"

-Gaurav

Lion's Rule

My first poem in this blog is the fist poem I wrote. It was long time back in school, and i lost the original copy of it long time back. This is a prototype I recreated of it from sheer memory. Hope you'll excuse the lack of imagination since it was my first attempt at poetry back in school days. The following is a true story.

Historical note:Genghis's khan's brother's name is not 'K'...i forgot the real name and was too lazy to search for it...so picked a random mongol name (specifically from the Age of empires pc video game). Also in actual story it might not have been the tuna fish, but i don't know exactly what kind of fish swims in mongol rivers so i made that up too. Rest of the story is a historical fact.




Lion's rule

Long ago in the Mongolian land
where sun burns over plains of sand
there were tribes of different kind
who battled each other from time to time.

And so as per the story long
One of these tribes, among,
was born a boy called Temujin
and we all knew what he grew up in.

One day Temujin with his spear,
went along a local river,
to hunt a fish so that he could
have it as his evening food.

And thus to fill his evening dish,
came flipping along a tuna fish.
Little did the tuna know,
of its hunter and so,

It came swapping its joyous fin,
under the shadow of Temujin.
Young Temujin struck his spear
and it cut across the tuna's rear.

He picked up the fish, and indeed,
placed it along a nearby weed,
and went to the river with his spear and knife
to claim another marine life.

But then to spoil the hunting game,
his elder brother Kushluk came,
and sneaked up from the hill behind,
like a villain cat with wicked mind.

He eyed the tuna with an evil smirk,
to reap the fruit of his brother's work,
and hence according to the plan he hatched,
crawled up the weed, the fish he snatched.

But, before the fish he could salt,
Temujin came up and said "Halt!,
Elder brother, with all respect due,
return my fish, I say to you."

Kuskluk said,"Young brother, no,
I am elder to you, boy you know.
So I'll claim this brotherly tax
Go hunt another, and relax.

Said Temujin," I don't care,
Eat my fish, don't you dare.
By the providence of the Lord divine,
I swear I'll claim whats rightly mine."

And Kushluk sprinted away in vain,
as Temujin held up his spear again.
A very brutal aim that day he took,
as we can see in the history book.

He hurled the spear at his brother tall,
and Kushluk died before he could fall.
Temujin claimed his fish, as he said,
without a tear for his brother dead.

Temujin was thirteen then, darn!
Today we know him as Genghis Khan.
Thus at thirteen he killed his first
to satisfy his huge blood thirst.

And he forged an army of men from mice,
and attacked everything from flame to ice.
His horsemen rode with a lightning pace,
and he conquered one fifth of earth's surface.

Later he built a school to teach,
to train young warriors, promising each.
And to all his pupils, and many other,
he told the tale of killing his brother.

In the end he would put them a task,
the gist of the story he would ask,
and the young failing to answer, learn,
to Genghis Khan they would turn.

And the Khan would say,"Boys you know,
I am your supreme ruler, and so,
every single man must fear me,
whomsoever he may be.

Brother or sister, whoever they be,
you cannot live by stealing from me.
Like a lion who lives in forests wild,
who doesn't like to hurt a child.

But when it comes to his lunch and dinner,
he hunts anything, fat or thinner.
Wolf or hound, be it anything,
flee you must before the jungle king.

Mercy and kindness are virtues of a fool.
Ruthless you must be in the Lion's rule."


- Gaurav

Welcome to my artistic side

I began writing poems in early school days. However, several of my likable compositions we lost along the years. Some were written in books which, eventually got misplaced. Other poems which were on my PC, were lost during a series of PC problems that compelled me to format my hard drive. Since then I gave up on poems and had been abstaining from poetry for over 2 years.

Now having revived myself at my old quirk, I think publishing all my poems here will be the best safeguard against losing any more of my works. Indeed, poetry for me is nothing less than a quirk as my folks describe me as an insensitive and irresponsible spoiled brat, who has no taste in any kind of art. And not many people disagree with that opinion. But some how, with my father being a respectable poet in our periphery, I just couldn't escape the hereditary propensity towards poetry.

I admit that my poems do lack all the imagination that poets like Bierce and Yeats infuse their efforts with. But after all, I write poems to amuse myself, and not for others. Most of my poems are about memorable stories I have heard or instances which I would like to recall to people. Most often they are devoid of any deeper meaning.

Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy them. Your comments are most welcome.