A Child’s Plea


childs plea

I came as a cradle of hopes and dreams –
bravely prepared to fulfil all promises.
But before my thoughts could hatch to ideas,
you broke my aspirations to little pieces.

I stood still and watched in sorrowful silence,
as you bartered my childhood for petty delights.
You hid from me all that you secretly feared,
and thrust me into a spate of endless nights.

I kept mum even as my innocence was raped,
and I was gifted a life of torment and toil.
I pushed my little body to its physical extremes –
with my sweat and blood watering the soil.

When you flogged me with lashes of injustice,
I stood through the ordeal without a complain.
When you made me walk on hot embers of misery,
I sought solace in tiny drops of god sent rain.

You made me a target of heinous crimes
You put my unexplored lands to fire.
You made me chop tonnes of wood,
only to fuel my eventual funeral pyre.

I could have put you on the map of fame,
had you allowed my inborn talents to bloom.
I could have widened your narrow horizons,
had you not condemned me to a destiny of doom.

I could have fetched you unparalleled laurels,
had you given me the tiniest wisp of chance.
I could have pranced beyond the farthest you saw,
had you not imprisoned me under your glance.

Let me glitter, let me flutter…
Let me spin my own success story…
Let my tiny feet and gifted hands,
swing and dance their way to glory!

Let my potential be fully and freely realised,
Let me be the torch that can light your dreams.
Nourish me with love, furnish me with wisdom,
and I shall lead you to a future that gleams.

Weren’t you once a delicate child, after all?
Haven’t you known the tenderness of small age?
Haven’t you once felt that frustration and fury,
when your mind itself was made your cage?

Has your worldly life taught you nothing?
Don’t you realise how much have you lost?
Have you once asked yourself while oppressing us,
how much did your ghastly mistakes cost?

Though you spend hours singing Him prayers,
we are so much closer and dearer to God than you.
Though you may cling onto senseless traditions,
we can always offer you something better and new.

So listen – before venturing to oppress us again,
We are your Future, We are your Past.
Don’t burden us with too many troubles too soon
Don’t rob us of our rightful childhood so fast.


NISHANK MEHTA  |  28.04.2008

Sieving the Sounds


sieving the sounds

Neck deep in heavy, enchanted sleep was I,
skimming on silver tides that dreams found.
A pleasant silence then compelled me,
to aim my ears on the sounds around.

Wish we could have lived in our dreams,
where no vicissitudes of fate can touch us.
The sounds I heard were auditory delicacies –
collectively, the best possible mental stimulus.

I could hear a fragrant breeze blow past,
carrying slyly stolen memories of bygone years.
I could hear the trees stealthily whisper,
and birds responding with ebullient cheers.

I could hear a serpentine stream of water,
meander its way across silky sands.
I could hear the crevices of Earth open,
to nourish all life with benevolent hands.

I could hear delighted children laugh and giggle,
and their playful fantasies happily fulfilled.
I could hear the chorus of a thousand prayers,
thanking heaven’s stones for what they milled.

I could hear the dogs of war snoring,
waiting for peace to break its charm.
But, peace, instead was singing hymns aloud,
ensuring its children stay away from harm.

And then, fittingly, but cruelly I awoke,
only to experience a sinister shock so late.
The vile ironies of fate had consumed me,
using this dreamy sleep as a shrewd bait.

A queer deja vu! And a silence again…
only this time it was chilling to the core.
My ears then burst in crucifying agony,
as the sounds returned to haunt me once more.

I could hear the cannons boldly boom,
paving the way to create new graveyards.
I could hear stilettos chop up bare necks,
and chests being ripped by swords and shards.

I could hear the bloody clang of heavy metals,
and weapons forged with frightening expertise.
I could hear rumbles of an impending catastrophe,
as it awoke from a siesta deep within the seas.

I could hear vultures screeching in the skies,
waiting to sink their teeth into a lifetime’s feast.
I could hear a great havoc muscle out peace,
like some monstrous, unchained, fiendish beast.

I could hear wails of orphaned children –
their parents lost to the juggernaut of strife.
I could hear the empty screams of widows,
struggling to find purpose in a traumatised life.

Dreams are where a wish and a fear meet,
and a battle ensues for cerebral supremacy.
Which side wins, alas! is an oystered mystery,
which leaves us all at night-time’s mercy.

Why such a play of disjoint acoustics exists,
when the actors remain one and the same?
Is it that in our celebrated consciousness,
we kill hopes and make dreams lame?

Don’t we need a reoriented frequency,
on which to lead our nomadic lives upon?
Shouldn’t the sweet sounds of our dreams persist,
when we open our eyes at the break of dawn?


NISHANK MEHTA  |  17.04.2008

Hurricane Hearts



When I found you, I discovered love,
and I felt its divine might unfold.
Trapped in a storm of your fragrance,
My most lofty dreams struck gold.

You stole my breath and blinded my eyes,
you rolled my heart in alleys of fantasy.
Our souls celebrated their glorious unison,
and our minds dawdled in wild ecstasy.

Suddenly, but surely, nature began to stage,
theatrical performances to salute our bond.
Stars began sketching and spelling out words,
as a glittery horizon stretched for ever beyond.

Those little lights that shone in your eyes
Those little curls that surfed in your hair
Those stolen moments in moonlit nights
Those intoxicating smells floating in the air.

It was like a sculpture chiseled to perfection…
It was like music orchestrated by divine hands.
It was like a silken fabric of intertwined desires,
It was like a nymph sleeping on golden sands.

Together we kindled up an eternal fire,
with a flame made from sworn love.
The ground beneath your feet for me,
was a dream-filled treasure trove.

Relationships are known to breed in time,
but untested love is as good as a sin.
Fate always lays our path with hurdles,
to ensure that we indeed deserve our win.

The piercing pain of separation stung,
as we succumbed to cruel twists of fate.
My wounded soul, engaged in a striptease,
begged to crush that wailing wall of hate.

My heart got drowned in an ocean of gloom,
and a chilling silence gripped my mind.
Hollow promises and empty condolences,
failed to resurrect what I had lost behind.

I picked up pieces of our shattered love,
and sealed them with adoration’s kiss.
My eyes then had a tiresome schedule,
as I sorely wept for what had gone amiss.

I loitered in streets of lost memories,
and waited for something to do the cure.
But, ah! the wounds were so deep and real,
and the cause of it so honest and pure.

The entire cosmos whirled in disarray,
with its axis piercing through my skin.
You left me with nothing much to lose,
and strangulated the very desire to win.

I bled out great woe in copious amounts,
and hoped for sunken love to shine again,
A prayer fluttered and took off to heaven,
as my scarred heart yearned for a pacific rain.

Sometimes we love with nothing more than hope,
Sometimes we cry with everything except tears.
A sincere affection has never ever lost a battle,
and whispers of my love fell on those ears.

She returned – and it was utopia in encore,
Light again danced where gloom had been.
The world again sprang up in great applause,
for the greatest love they had ever seen.

Reality became synonymous with dreams –
Resplendent days and celestial nights.
As our love re-emerged like a phoenix,
and perched itself on unreachable heights.


NISHANK MEHTA  |  14.04.2008

Simple Pleasures

simple pleasures

Have you ever wound up your dreams by dawn
to watch the scarlet robes of the sun turn yellow?
Have you ever felt joy at another man’s rise
instead of envying him for being a lucky fellow?

Have you ever coaxed darkness to lend you its ears
and let stars be privy to your dearest secrets?
Have you ever welcomed rain with a dance of glee
instead of rushing to secure the clothesline it wets?

Have you ever fathered an honourable intention
and played part in the triumph of truth over deceit?
Have you ever permitted pure instinct to guide you
instead of putting your trusted logic in the driver’s seat?

Have you ever shed sanity and pranced like a clown
simply to bring a precious smile on a toddler’s face?
Have you ever lent unconditional help to a seeker
and in return felt the warmth of his grateful embrace?

Have you ever bounced back from a sojourn at the bottom,
and silenced your critics with your stunning comeback?
Have you ever spotted your flaws and tailored them
instead of devoutly documenting what others lack?

Have you ever felt God – as plain, simple divinity,
and not as an effigy draped in saffron or green?
Have you ever tasted success without selling your soul
or jeopardizing your claim to call yourself clean?

Simple pleasures these all – I am sure you will agree –
well within reach, but not quite within grasp.
But the gargantuan monster we have turned life into,
mocks us, bites us and stings us like a wasp.

Our incessant pursuit for ever-eluding success
and our shameless ignorance for these modest delights
have left us stranded at a place where we can have none,
where day only shows up after a spate of endless nights.

Why have we made it all so complicated,
that its so difficult to find a reason to smile?
Where do we look for these simple pleasures,
in a world fuelled by greed and guile?

Let us break away from this material enslavement…
Let us abandon our chase for undeserved fame…
Let us be content in equating our ‘haves’ with our ‘wants’
and not make acing the quests of life our only aim.


NISHANK MEHTA  |  04.04.2008