कौतुक

  Image by Ashok Meena I promise two words like a mountain  resting on a sea.  Or is it an iceberg? Sunken amidst  precarious waters. The tip, an attempt  to undo itself.  Promising is like standing  on a slippery terrace  with heels on.  I have promised  to be faithful to be honest to be careful  to be better only because I can't.  When in despair lost in war with oneself  destined to wane I hold on to a tiny string; Belief.  I choose to give myself  a second chance  to fail and thus  I promise. 

A 1000 mangoes Atop a large Mango tree One of the finest orchards The rarest Alphonsos. As the tree flowers The farmer rejoices Another great crop Of fine Alphonsos And then he Somehow disappears As if rejoicing Was the last obligation. The tree stands eager to get rid of the fruits Their burden now bogging it down. The farm opens to the pluckers And how they grab the juicy fruits! But always, Some on the top are left untouched Waiting for a brave plucker To set an eye on it Saving itself from rotting. But how many a mangoes rot! Rotting is inevitable. On the trees, In the godowns In the seller’s basket Also at times In a lazy customer’s fridge Difficult is the delight For a mango to attain Of feeding a mouth Its juice and pulp in all its purity A purposeful life A mango’s nirvana! Meanwhile, the farmer Busies himself for yet another crop Oblivious to the mango’s fate For the prices have been se