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