Donald Trump’s House of Wonders!

Step right up! Into the tent!

No! No! No! Not you! You’re bent!

No blacks, browns and Mexicans too!

Oh, don’t shy away girl, it’s free for you!

Come in, we're building the greatest ever wall!

Paid for, by my neighbor, and so tall!

Set your eyes upon it and wonder!

For it’s a work of art, not a blunder!

I also have a lion, who acts like a dog!

And a grown man, who squeals like a hog!

An ugly witch, who lies through her teeth!

And a fiend, whose sight’ll make you seethe!

Inside you’ll find that everything’s best!

Why? Cause I say it’s better than the rest!

Don’t believe me? You will before long!

Because it’s true friend, I’m never wrong!

What is it you say? You can prove otherwise?

You believe the words I’ve just said are lies?

I’ll say you’re a sore loser who just overreacts!

Cause as the witch says, mine are ‘Alternative Facts’!

So step on in and grab seats in a row!

While me and my gang put on a show!

Trust me when I say, this is the most fun you’ll ever know!

We’re just getting started, and there are four more years to go!

- Kartik Shastry

At Heaven’s Gate

This is a poem about two men,

Who died and went to heaven,

And as they waited at the gate,

For St. Peter to judge their fate,

Standing together, in the dock,

To kill time, they began to talk.

“My odds of getting in are slim.”

Said the one called Tricky Jim.

“I’ve lied and thieved, all my life.

Hell! I even cheated on my wife!

And all the while, I enjoyed it too.

Why would they ever let me through?”

“Your odds aren’t as bad as mine.”

Said the one called Mr. Swine.

“But honestly, I just don’t care!

I already know I’m not getting in there.”

By the other’s conviction, irked, just a tad,

Jim asked, “What did you do that was so bad?”

“I’m a lawyer” said Mr. Swine with a frown

Jim said “Buddy, you win this one hands down.”

-Kartik Shastry 

...And They Listen

He struts to the podium, with a smirk on his face

His portentous persona, utterly devoid of grace

He reads the crowd well, and so knows what to say

A greedy guide, who has led his flock astray

And it shocks me, to watch this lot cheer

His revolting sermon, of hatred and fear

I know that these do not make a great nation, greater

And he who disagrees, is likely a bigot and a traitor

But how reason by so many, is so easily forsaken

My faith in humanity, now stands utterly shaken

Yet, I continue to hope, that he miserably fails

And that common sense, eventually prevails

-Kartik Shastry

The Monster Within Me

There’s a monster within me,

Who doggedly gnaws and scrapes

At the very innards of my being,

The prison of my docility, to escape

Knowing that patience has its limits,

I try my best to keep it chained

But the number of fools around me,

Ensure that the binds remain strained

As it feeds on my stowed wrath,

It keeps growing ever stronger

And I get this foreboding sense,

My control may not last much longer

And the moment, the chains break

I'll become a slave to the monster inside,

My body, left a mere husk,

By the monster’s will, shall abide

I may seem mad for writing this verse

But it's the only way I can make you see

'Cause believe me, when I tell you this,

No one fears this monster more than me

- Kartik Shastry

No Adieu

It isn't easy for me to let go.

Believe me, I mean every word I say.

Forced by life, I've made a choice though,

Which makes it impossible for me to stay.

Maybe, I’ll move on to better places.

Yet, it will never feel the same as this.

New surroundings and different faces,

Everything about here, I shall truly miss.

But to the old ones and the new,

I’d say, that this world is small indeed.

So I will not, for now, be bidding adieu.

All you have to do is call me, whenever you need.

And do think of me once in a while.

Reminisce all the good times we’ve had.

If someday my memory, makes you smile,

Know, that somewhere, thinking of you, I’m just as glad.

- Kartik Shastry

Saragarhi

Let us remember the battle of Saragarhi,

And that one fateful September day,

When a vast sea of Pashtun warriors,

Was, by a handful of Sikhs, held at bay.

Greatly outnumbered, though they were,

And knew that an option was flight,

Each of the one and twenty Sikhs,

Willingly resolved, to stand and fight.

And while brave, in their own right,

The Pashtuns, misjudged the Sikh men,

Several proceeding to their slaughter,  

Like lambs entering a lion’s den.

As wave upon wave, crashed against the post,

Threats and offers, in plenty, were made,

Yet, so resilient was the defenders' will,

Until the end, they remained unswayed.

With courage, as their one true master,

And honor, as their steadfast guide,

They faced their enemy with fervor,

And died for their principles with pride.

Aware all along, how the odds were stacked,

Instead of fleeing they chose to succumb,

And through a show of their unparalleled valor,

Taught history, how legends, men become.

 - Kartik Shastry 

Unconscionable Advice or The Purported Unimportance of Choice

Each moment of existence,

From waking to slumber

Is replete with choices,

Of an umpteen number

Ranging from significant,

To the utterly mundane

From evoking happiness,

To provoking disdain

And constantly we bother

About choosing what’s best

As though, this life

Is a continuous test

Having thought about it,

Very hard for very long

I, for one, am convinced,

No choice is right or wrong

For, what is wrong or right,

But a notion in one’s mind?

Never black or white,

But a grey streak, ill defined

Certainly, some choices,

Do cause suffering and pain

But it’s hard to ignore,

That each loss heralds a gain

So, though you make your choices

And your choices make you,

“How you choose doesn’t matter”

Is also equally true

- Kartik Shastry

A Husband's L(W)ife

You’re unreasonable when you’re reasonable;
Wrong, when you know you’re right
And the slightest hint of protest;
Is a prelude to a verbal fight

You’re forced to do what she does;
For your interests, are a waste of time
But if sometimes you beg to differ;
Your dissent is akin to a crime

Her money is only her money;
But your money is not your own
And her tendency of rubbing this in;
Often in humiliation, makes you groan

Yet when trouble rears its ugly head;
And you’re uncertain of what to do
You’re assured that you’re not alone;
For she’ll always be there for you

In utter darkness, she embodies a spark;
A beacon of strength in a relentless storm
She’s your advisor, caretaker, your truest friend;
She is love, in its purest form

So, marriage has its pros and cons;
Just as is, for all other things in life
Though, you’ll do well to mark my words;
No matter what, always cherish your darling wife

-  Kartik Shastry

The Nostalgic Idiot

Crossing the road near a music store,

On one fateful , overcast afternoon

Through the slightly ajar glass door,

He happened upon, a treasured old tune

A melody, he had heard ages before,

In his youth, during simpler days

A melody, which despite years score,

Did not, even today, fail to amaze

On the road, transfixed he stood,

His every iota, focused and heavy

Next he knew, he was hit by the hood,

Of an enormous, rumbling Chevy

And as in the gutter, broken he lay

His life, hanging by a mere thread

He had the gall to blame the music’s sway

For bringing him, so close to death

-Kartik Shastry

THE FOUNTAIN OF PEACE

Sitting in a very secluded spot

Tears rolling down her cheeks

She cannot but lament her lot

Eluded long by what she seeks

Peace of mind is all she yearns

A feeling she barely remembers

So, to rid a memory that burns

Her mind like scorched embers

Then there comes an old crone

Her hair unkempt and wild

And mutters in a creaky tone

“I know your heart, my child”

  

She says, in a near forest deep

Of a certain fountain she knows

Flowing in the ruins of a keep

With the power to cure all woes

Though such a tale, she has heard

The girl hitherto, has shunned belief

For to one, it would seem absurd

That a mere spout can vanquish grief

To the crone, she says the same

With a plain intent to dismiss

Yet the other persists to claim

That it is her sole key to bliss

Her curiosity finally kindled

She decides to follow the crone

Though not one easily swindled

She’s still wary of the unknown

Before long, the Keep is reached

Lo! She spots the fountain glow

And once the barring door is breached

She reaches for it, rapt but slow

The crone whispers wryly “Drink”

Handing the girl a gilded cup

But down her throat as the water sinks

An excruciating pain starts welling up

Suddenly she falls to the floor

Seeing the crone transform to youth

Knowing, soon she’d be no more

As dawns upon her the sordid truth

The crone, now very young and fair

Sees the girl draw her last breath

And then, in a jeering tone says

“Eternal peace is only found in death”

                    

-Kartik Shastry

She Was An Old Woman

The Train finally grinding to a halt

Her journey of days was at an end

Fresh air quelling the reek of filth

As the cattle car’s door was opened

Outside a young soldier in grey

With a look of disgust on his face

Barked orders with utmost scorn

Exposing a character utterly base

With creaking knees she alighted

And joined the macabre queue

Suffering the cold to be sorted

Her only crime, she was a Jew

*************************

When examined at the ramp

By a man wearing a white coat

She barely managed to speak

For thirst clenched her throat

At her old and withered frame

The man for an instant stared

Then deftly pointing to his left

“That line!” he curtly declared

Solemnly, she walked to join

The rank in which she fit best 

Women, children, old, infirm

All desperately craving rest

*************************

When the slowly rising smoke

She saw over the building, loom

Naively ignorant she remained

To the cuing of her pending doom

Unsure she was whether fatigue

Or the smog, made her eyes water

Blurring her already weak vision

And briefly forcing her to totter

But both deception and hope

Her weakness, tried to quell

And she continued, trusting

That all would soon be well

**************************

When ordered tersely to strip

And stand naked with the rest

Though overcome with shame

She without protest, undressed

Hanging her clothes to later reclaim

She set her feet on the stone floor

A strange chill running up her spine

When ordered to the bath hall’s door

And as she entered the crammed room

She caught a fleeting glimpse of light

Then the heavy door slammed shut

The long day giving way to eternal night

- Kartik Shastry

A Stoker’s Life

Angrily erupts, the grey steam

A creation of my punishing toil

And as I tend the hungry gleam

The heat makes my blood boil

                                                          

With little rest in hours eight

Fatigue, my body barely fights

Load upon load into the grate

Even the shovel’s handle bites

Yet my will refuses to relent

For my loved ones I must feed

Though my might be so spent

Every penny does fulfil a need

Thus, I shall suffer this sorrow

Till I earn my share for the day

Then be back again tomorrow

As, for me exists no other way

-Kartik Shastry

Mind v. Heart

My mind reproachfully questions,

While my heart blatantly craves.

And I can choose one or the other.

But, which cons and which saves?

About obligations and purpose,

My mind relentlessly exhorts.

But with opinions of its own,

My heart convincingly retorts.

The latter vehemently asserts,

That such a life is a mere sham.

For in the web of responsibility,

Our happiness, forever we damn.

And though only one may prevail,

My verdict, is in perpetual pause.

Since after all, they  are both mine.

How do I judge my own cause?

-Kartik Shastry 

Winter

Winter, you are the queen of all seasons

Ethereal and beautiful for so many reasons

The shedding of leaves beckons your birth

As the joyful wind gently whispers in mirth

When you grow stronger, with age and time

All things witness, your splendour, sublime

And even the mighty sun, forced to relent

Rests hidden aft the clouds, humbly bent

Then comes along, your fair sibling, snow

Making all things exquisite, pale and glow

Transforming this world, into a realm divine

A glimpse of heaven in an earthly confine

Tired and old, then you gradually, wane

But even at your loss, there is very little pain

For winter, you benevolent harbinger of spring  

Even in your demise, rife blossoms you bring

And once you depart, your return all await

As, with time, summer and rain also abate

Then one day, the miserable shower is gone

Lo and behold!  Winter, you arise again, reborn

-Kartik Shastry 

The Ward

Such a wicked place, I wonder

A silent witness to lives asunder

Wretched stench of death in the air

Mingled with cries of pain and despair

And helpless Angels, in fluttering gowns

Floating, bearing sombre frowns

Who often upon me, bestow a glare

Stressing my pointless presence there

With immense strength, I barely quell

The urge to flee, this embodiment of hell

For forced, I am here to stay

As a dear friend, withers away

Sorrow and fear in thoughts abound

Born of suffering that thrives around

And as towards sleep, I begin to stray

For swift respite, I quietly pray

Awoken at midnight, by a ghastly wail

Cringing, as I sense myself turn pale

I open my eyes, feel fear rebound

Seeing, my friend’s, panting mound

As I stare, with a gasp, his earthly bonds sever

Weakly I watch his soul, depart forever

Trailed by a lifeless gaze, profound

A sight which, my mind, shall eternally hound

As they gather his earthly remains

I hope, salvation, his spirit attains

Then solemnly, walking out the door

I cannot help but, myself, abhor

For as my friend endured torment

All I did was, shamelessly lament

And, suddenly I realize, pain swelling my core

His death granted, my loathsome wish of before

-Kartik Shastry 

The Martyr

There was once a young man

Whose life with violence, was fraught

Overflowing with regret and anger

Vengeance, his distressed heart sought

But latent his hatred, within him, lay

For he lacked the means to attain his end

Though, very cunningly, biding its time

To avenge his pride, that was yet to mend

On his way home one early morn,

Accosted he was, by a bigot in disguise

Saying he was a messenger of God,

Claiming himself to be wisest of the wise

Preaching a sordid lesson of death

He alleged, damaged pride could be mended

Wanting the man to be a martyr

He declared, “Only with violence, can violence be ended”

With the sermon over

His hatred fiercely incited, the man found

Reasoning against reason,

He sensed rage within, vigorously begin to pound

His judgement clouded

Accepting the bigot’s words, as solemn truth

To silence his seething heart

The man impulsively resolved, to martyr his youth

Then resuming his walk home

He came across a crowded market place

When arose a flicker of doubt

As he rested his eyes on a baby’s untainted face

Suddenly his heart melting within

He stopped in his tracks, compelled to wonder

Was vengeance truly necessary?

Or was he just committing a dreadful blunder?

Slowly realization dawned

That such revenge was a worthless fate

He finally understood

That all hate does is breed more hate

His mind, at ease

Heart at peace, he decided to move on

A sudden flash and thunder

The light from his eyes, was forever gone

- Kartik Shastry

For Minni

A pure gleam that lit our lives, 
Can shine brightly, no more 
As its soul, has left its abode, 
Amidst the heavens, to soar 


And though we hurt for our loss, 
We are forced to bid adieu 
Destined to cherish, for our lives, 
Our loving memories of you 


-Kartik Shastry

Nature's Splendour

Oh! How much I yearn, to breathe
The pristine air, of a meadow blooming
Adorned, a plenty, by droplets of dew
Which rest atop, flowers perfuming

In peace, to hear the mellow calls
Of song birds, I furtively long
And to heed the whispering wind
As unfettered, it drifts along

I crave to feel, the satin stream
As it mirthfully, caresses my being
And then to trail, on its course
When it attempts, in haste, fleeing

This and more, my soul seeks
Alas! I but, possess a trice
Such infinite gifts you have to offer
Nature, a lifetime won’t suffice

-Kartik Shastry

Panspermia

So many beautiful wonders we see

As through space, we silently float

From distance vast, akin debris

To a desolate world, still remote

Isles of lights, dazzling galore

Amidst an eternal ocean of void

Stars, planets, moons and more

Though for life, utterly devoid

As that is the duty, we now so bear

Our sole charge, our future to sow

And when young, for it to care

Then our wisdom on it, to bestow

For indeed soon, will come the day

When our abode shall finally wane

And, though we are so far away

Through us, our kind shall remain

Thus, now striving, our utmost to cope

We silently journey, into the deep

Of someday reaching our goal, we hope

So life elsewhere, we may yet reap

-Kartik Shastry

Time and Perception

It is said, that the mightiest is time

For none else are able, to alter all

And as the many clocks restlessly tick

Fortunes change and aspirations fall

Sans mercy, the juggernaut lumbers

Under its bulk, trampling many a life

All servants of punctuality and haste

Their hopes of bliss, begetting strife

Yet, time is by no means, invincible

As its might derives from perception

For man, its inventor, regrettably is

A pitiful slave of his own conception

So if his own ruler, he yearns to be

His view of time, man must forsake

For upon becoming, free of its grip

To an unlived life, he shall awake

-Kartik Shastry