Speed Breakers
Met a girl
Busy,demanding times
Reasons and rhymes
Pause, hang, whatever.
Met her
Again
Not just in vain
Tragic, Sensitive times
Reasons and rhymes
Pause, hang, thereafter.
Life offered its own excuses
Valid justifications
Shift of jobs and radio stations.
We talked in recesses
A bit while before, we ate lots of time together
Not bodily, but in a cellular enclosure
For once, my confidence begs to differ
Though it distanced, the escapements of time weren’t wrong
The pause, the hang, whatever had some love all along.
A little pause, a little show,
If life wants to deal cards this way
I go for the play
Win or lose, high or low
I dare the hangman, head to toe.
Life’s fast, we both know and fear
Speed breakers and road-repair stuff,
They show up even in love
Baby, we rode years in top gear.
******
Rangam Thoitak Chiru
NoMinorityMojoForMe@God 
#1 by rangamchiru on June 24, 2010 - 1:46 pm
{Farewell to the Departed}
Resilience of Reminiscences – Rangam Thoitak Chiru
Those distant familiar faces, as through a yashmak
It occludes to some, it still exudes to me
My being soused into the deep fact
The sensor, sovereign over memory
Those voices, as over a dead night’s phone
Confident in its own impeccable tone
Our souls are silhouetted in parallel lines
At times, silent monks in their shrines
My being soars to a higher elevation
The hearer is absolute, even of muted notation.
Selected conversations while face to face, immortal
The subservience in common things, eligible
The dignity of being someone to another, palpable
A yawn overwhelmed by eternal sleep, unexplainable
My being survives for its own distances,
Farewell, my departed; your silent voices,
Lie awake in the resilience of reminiscences.
#2 by RANGAM THOITAK CHIRU on June 26, 2010 - 2:53 pm
CONCEALED TALISMANS
-Rangam Thoitak Chiru
Round world, like the wistful pendant on her high society neck
With gods and goddesses, and amulets of the earth
Morning newspapers securing their own with our fortunes,
Tarots, alphabets, integers and all that you can speck;
Sometime in the chill of a night by the temperate hearth
We drank parleys of hill tales and legends, thick in the green, green dunes
I ascertained some patented beliefs and talismans
Not those conspicuous sparkling city blends
But concealed within as locked cartridges of guns
Never tentative but decisive of the timely hour
When all that in sight is, what you closed an eye for.
The might of human faith, fragile though by a black cat’s notion
Or insuperable the feeling of waking up to a good sleep’s dream
The sun, moon, stars or the flash of an ephemeral starlit beam
Pilgrims to their creed’s holy soil, to wash their sins and plan salvation
They tie some knots of coloured threads, or dangle jewelled crosses of the crucified Lord
Five times on a rug, three times in a lion’s lair, retold to strike a heavenly chord
The endless flock of worshippers, from sea to shore
When all that overwhelms thought is, what you bowed your head for.
A frisky wild squirrel crossed our campaign route; they rejoiced a win in the elections
A lost deer oddly jaunts in front of our convoy; danger ahead in ambush as hunched,
A wild rooster unusually atop the Church bell, evoking the overnight dead pastor’s imposing sermons
The dog wailed on top of their thatched roof, its loyal reminder to fellow mortals,
Perpetual clash of customary beliefs with meekness of docile apostles
Established justice by the bite of mother tiger’s lost tooth, or by water baptism
The cattle raider consequent by guilt of the bite, not a mere bit random
The gun thief spat out by the just water in a trice, while honesty breathed absolute calm.
Treasured instincts of natives ingrained as lines on their palm.
When delayed is justice denied, ethnic integrity helps the languishing Indian courts swarm.
And in us all hang concealed talismans, hopeful like a prayer before their hunt
Rabbit’s -foot- touch-wood or the crossed fingers for those in want
False notions hover still around as butterflies on a wild cat’s banal dung,
To each their faith, and in each faith gallop horse-shoes from old to us young:
On the hearthrug, I slept by the crow of dawn almost four
Around a hundred stories yawned; need I mystify the self more?
Discerningly validated by us all, when all that of faith remains is, just what you are desirous for.
****
#3 by rangamchiru on June 30, 2010 - 10:44 am
DINNER
Mom and sister came back from their shopping excuses
Once in a while they meet with upgraded choices,masked by our dinner matters
Got tissue papery Chinese cabbages
Brussels sprout baby baggages
A packet of frozen kebabs,
suffocated but too idle to write s.o.s. on the frostedspaces
My little niece rushes to get her safe toy scissors,
Cuts open the meat wraps
And her mouth waters
And the relief of the rolled-up Turkish fibres
I simply watch, still held up by her school bag like braces for my spinal fractures
A non-violent gladiator, now compelled to stand with my dummy alum-weapon crutches
To hi-five my little niece and the age defying twin sisters
Simple hereditary delights for the men, the little niece and surely jealous forefathers.
#4 by rangamchiru on July 6, 2010 - 9:23 pm
INTERSPERSED FORCES
Allow , allow , oh ye forces of the spaces all around my individuality,
Allow , yellow sun, to talk of my own burning lividity,
Allow, white clouds, to clear me fight my dark winds,
Allow, colourless thunder, to shout out my own unscreams,
I am interspersed in you oh divine nature; gift me your trying ability
My mind gives way to wildly flash its arrogances like a lightning’s will,
My sadness weeps, sometimes so strong, I need to fight floods
My sanity loses, like the light drizzle turned to a down pouring fill,
I realise the answers are there, but a key in the ageing locksmith’s box,
I cannot steal an easy star, amongst the twinkling answers of the galaxy
Answer me with a stronger ability, Oh forces of my individuality.
I am afraid even if I don’t fear anything,
I am lucid, yet like the interspersed clouds of my minds conscience
I am not sad, yet like the solo rainbow ring,
I could kiss my limit’s sky, just for that intermittent transience
I want to live, but such forces make me breathe to exist,
Answer me then, Answer me, Oh able nature, with my conquering abilities.
#5 by Rangam Thoitak Chiru on November 26, 2010 - 3:55 am
SALUTE
Women and soldiers, they are so alike
Born to preserve, a stray bullet scars or kills.
The rest of the world is busy being gods.
Women and soldiers preserve,
a stray bullet scars or applauds
While the rest of the world is busy being gods.
© Rangam Thoitak Chiru
We tend to wake up to a new day, everyday
While it does not guarantee a new way.