The Star Spotter

A creaking fan disturbs
The silent warmth of the night,
Sleep has left him, so he sits owl-like,
Gazing through the window at the sky.

A few years ago, he could identify
Venus, Mercury and constellations
He had read about in the books now sprawled on his bed.

Now as the clock inches toward two past midnight,
He rubs his eyes, sips from his coffee mug again,
And looks for a star he can give his name.

Trouble is, the room has no windows,
The lights are out,
And in the black of the room,
He can see shapes he calls stars.


The Software Coder

What do the techies out there say about this?

The software coder sits at his desk all day
Even as a stubborn bug stands in his way,
Throughs ifs and elses, and ors and ands
He wades through struggling to run his commands.

His eyes are sunken, he looks like stone
He’s stayed so long at work, even his stubble has grown,
Juggling bits and bytes, he’s had no rest,
Ah, the fix has failed a regression test.

The world outside now feels like an illusion,
This stubborn bug seems like eternal damnation,
Walking, eating, dating, it torments him,
He’s stretched and torn by the battle within.

One Sunday morning, after a week,
When his chances have gone from thin to bleak,
The Eureka moment strikes with all its might,
Mr. Coder has a solution to end his plight.

He waits nervously through the day, itching
To show off his elegant solution,
Surely, Mr. Pandit will spot his genius this time,
The accolades and the raise are on the line.

All excited, he logs in at work,
An email from Pandit (who else) interrupts,
“That bug, we don’t have to fix it anymore,
I need to assign you more vital chores.”

The software coder sits at his desk today,
Even as another stubborn bug stands in his way.

When the tide turned

Wrote this after participating in a candle light march last week.

On a balmy Friday, I walked
A candle in hand, and hope in heart,
To dispel the gloom that cynicism had cast.

Thousands trod along,
Clutching a glimmer of justice
As we fought to escape
From bureaucracy, graft and red tape.

Behind a man, frail yet firm,
A nation rallied, unfazed and brave,
And even though
I was just another man in a crowd,
I know my voice was heard out loud.

Thoughts of an Evanescent I

I will die
And my ashes will fly
over the earth
under an obscure sky.

I will be just another grain of sand,
Unnoticed, surrounded by millions
Lying buried, lying obscure.

Until someday arrives,
I will run, I will fly,
I will stand on the shoulders of the wind,
And leave notes about my tryst
In the crevices of barren mountains,
In the pastures on the plateaus,
In the lap of the oceans,
And in these words in the infinities of cyberspace.

Yet after someday arrives,
I will just be a speck in the universe,
The marks left behind will all fade away,
And another maverick will occupy that space,
For now though, I’ll enjoy my fleeting glory,
Before evanescence wraps me in its shroud.