By: Archan Mehta
____
Poem # 1: On Feeling Whole
I want to dedicate
This poem to you,
Gentle readers, but
I guess I am
Not sure why.
Maybe it is because
I have nothing better
To do: you see, I am
Whiling away my time
As usual because, truth
Be told, I was born
A lazy bum. I am busy
Luxuriating on a sandy
Beach in South Goa, India,
And the rays of the sun
Are caressing my body
Like a massage therapist
With exotic oils and perfumes.
Sometimes, I wish we could
Escape from our daily
Responsibilities and humdrum
Routines and boring, listless,
Pointless and futile lives
And hug the outdoors
Like a child hugs
A teddy bear for
The warmth and comfort
Of a place called home.
You see, gentle readers,
Instead of virtual reality,
I prefer the reality of
Our natural world. In
Fact, I feel like donating
Whatever little I own
To a charity and I want
To jump directly into
The deep end of the ocean.
Do you ever feel that
Way, gentle readers?
I really don’t know how
Or where you get your
Kicks or highs, but I,
For one, would rather
Kick off my shoes and
Run into the jungle
Like an untamed, wild
beast without taking
Any precautions and
Refuse to leave until
I feel whole again.
I wonder:
Have you ever
Felt this way,
Gentle readers?
My soul longs to stray
To keep my inner
Demons at bay
To fill the huge
Void in my life
With the inner calm
And the peace of a rising sun.
Poem # 2: Flying in The Face of Death
Sure, you’re going to die
You and I
Are not going
To make it:
So what?
Just shake it
And forget that time
Is fleeting and that
Our human existence
Is a joke:
Drink Coke and eat
French fries
Enjoy the ride
Before it’s
Time to die.
The dragon will
Eat you alive
Whether you’re in
Or out of your grave.
Enough said about
Dead meat
We don’t like to listen
To those who
Preach anyway.
“Make hay while
The sun still shines:”
Don’t just wait
Your turn
Burn like a candle
And don’t you
Ever give up
Without a fight
Take flight in
The here and now
Don’t worry about
The here and after
Enjoy songs and laughter
While you still can
After all,
That’s what makes
You a woman or man.
Poem # 3: Existential Musings
If you were
To ask me:
What are you
Interested in?
I would have
To reply:
Well, I’m certainly
Not interested in
Buying and hoarding
Stuff like Bill Gates,
Mukesh Ambani and
The Sultan of Brunei:
Instead,
I am interested in
Experiencing life,
Event by event,
Like bees collecting
Honey from certain flowers.
If you were
To ask me:
Where will you
Sleep tonight, poet?
Well, I guess I
Would have to reply:
Preferably, I would like
To camp under the
Starry skies
With a clear view
Of our universe above
And the ocean below.
If you were
To ask me:
What is your
Goal or objective
In life?
I would have
To respond:
Well, I am a drifting
Cloud and happy to
Travel wherever
The wind leads me.
If you were
To ask me:
Where is your
Destination, poet?
Well, I guess I
Would have to reply:
I would like to
Travel to several
Exotic lands to
Enrich my life
As long as I
Am alive
And live underneath
The sun-kissed sky
And wonder why,
Finally, I am here.
If you were
To ask me:
Poet,
When will
You grow up?
Why I would
Have to respond:
I will have plenty
Of time to grow
Up after I die.
In the meantime,
I want to avoid
Kill-joys like you
And enjoy the sun.
If you were
To ask me:
Poet,
Don’t you want
To do what normal
Or conventional
People do?
How about, for
Example, living the
“American Dream?”
Poet, don’t you
Want to pay down
Your mortgage and
Own your own home
With a two-door
Garage and white
Picket fence and
An outdoor swimming
Pool and a backyard
Barbecue and a
Lovely lawn in the front?
Well, I guess I
Would have to reply:
Well, that is your
Dream, but that is
My nightmare!
Those who wear
Expensive three
Piece suits and drive
Sports cars and marry
Trophy wives
And produce two
Babies and win
credentials and awards
And make oodles
Of cold, hard cash
And become socialites
And join the party circuit
And turn into page 3
Celebrities in the print
Media
Don’t really know
The pleasure of penning
A poem like this one,
And are blind to the
Act of creation
Which demands
Feelings and imagination.
As a poet,
I am only motivated
By the creative impulse
And not by power and glory.
Without self-expression
I feel my life is
Incomplete and I create
Poetry to fill that
Void in my life
Regardless of public opinion.
If they don’t value
Me nor acknowledge
My contribution to
Society, well, so be it.
I am not them
And they are not me.
See?
Poem # 4: Death’s Call
Remember:
No matter where
You are in life:
Whether rich or poor,
Whether young or old,
Whether good-looking or ugly,
Whether educated or illiterate,
Whether a celebrity or an ordinary citizen,
In the end,
Death, after all, will
Be your best friend.
Sooner or later,
Death will visit you,
With bad breath, rotten
Teeth with cavities,
Sporting a black beard,
Armed with a carving knife,
Stinking of alcohol and drugs,
And then, of course, death
Will slowly and surely and gently
Whisper your name and call you
Comrade or compadre or buddy,
In fact, death will say:
Come to me, flow into
My arms, lover, like
Land merges into the sea.
Inevitably, Death will say:
See, I offer you this silent
Rose, in your final hour,
Can you feel my power,
Cries Death, foolish and
Naïve and ignorant mortal,
I hold you in my power,
I control your five senses:
Your eyelids are drooping
And your eyelids are growing heavy
It is time to sleep,
Why do not weep
For I am death,
After all, and there
Is going to be a
Full stop now to
What you understand
To be your life.
But, rest assured,
Death is not the end
But the start of yet
Another life upon
Our planet earth.
Poem # 5: Singing Along
If there is
A song on
Your lips:
Sing along,
For life is
Too short to
Be little, as the
Saying goes:
Years later,
You will remember
These precious moments
Which gladdened your heart,
So surrender with faith
To the music inside of you.
Leave your workstation,
Which is like a prison
And ride your
White stallion
Like John Wayne
And return to the
Wild, open outdoors:
After all,
The jungle was
Once a part
Of you:
In fact,
You once called
The jungle your home,
When you were born,
So sing along,
For our good and
Dear Lord is busy
Playing our song.
Poem # 6: Existential Aloneness
This pond
Shivers and trembles
At your touch:
The stillness is
Shattered and a frog
Emerges slowly but surely
Out of the shadows.
What am I doing here?
It is time
To settle
On the green grass
And dwell on eternity.
It is time to
Inhale the beauty
Which surrounds me
Like a bird
In a forest.
It is time to enjoy
Solitude in
The lap of Mother Nature.
It is time
To forgive and forget
People who have wronged you.
It is time
To walk away
From worldly attachments
And renounce your ownership
Of goods and services.
It is time to
Abandon the flesh
For the soul is
At your service
And your true
Home is not the earth
But cosmic consciousness.
Bio: Dr. Archan Mehta
Archan Mehta has earned a Ph.D. in Management. Currently, Dr. Mehta is a Consultant and Writer based in India who trains clients in Stress Management through the ancient practice of meditation.
Dr. Mehta’s articles and case studies have been featured in HR Future. HR Future is a leading HR magazine based in South Africa, sourced by prestigious ivy league schools in America (USA) like Harvard and Princeton.
In 1990, Dr. Mehta won a national award for a short story in Onlooker Magazine based in Bombay (Mumbai), Maharashtra, India. The Judge was the late, great Khushwant Singh, India’s celebrated Journalist, Editor, Author, and Columnist.
Dr. Mehta’s works have appeared in numerous publications:
- American Poetry Anthology
- Poets United to Advance the Arts
- The Times of India
- The Indian Express
- Mid-Day
- HR Future, Business Manager
- India Today
- Sportsweek
- The Statesman
- Ahmedabad Mirror
- All India Management Association
- People Matters
- Society for Human Resource Management
- Onlooker
Dr. Mehta is a member of several professional organizations, such as Society for Human Resource Management, Indian Society for Training and Development, Academy of HRD, Rural Marketing Association of India, Ahmedabad Management Association, Human Resource Association of India, Society for Applied Behavioral Sciences, National HRD Network and All India Management Association.
Dr. Mehta likes to stroll outdoors, listen to music, party with close friends, and read in his free time.
Please feel free to reach out to the poet at archanm@hotmail.com or through LinkedIn.
Other poetry by Dr. Mehta on Two Drops of Ink
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