RE: Ripples

 Sudha,

 

At the outset , my apologies for not responding earlier

 

But, then a mere “ thanks “ could never express my gratitude for your “ empathy “ !

 

So , I just uploaded :

 

Simple Sojourn of a Solitary Soul

https://poemseng.blogspot.com/2021/01/simple-sojourn-of-solitary-soul.html

 

Pl give my regards to Girish

 

-      Hemen bhai

 

From: Sudha Trivedi [mailto:sudha.dave.trivedi@gmail.com]
Sent: Friday, January 22, 2021 8:55 AM
To: hcp@recruitguru.com
Subject: Fwd: Ripples

 

 

---------- Forwarded message ---------
From: Girish Trivedi <gtrivedi@gmail.com>
Date: Thu, 31 Dec, 2020, 10:31 PM
Subject: Ripples
To: Hemen Parekh <hcp@recruitguru.com>
Cc: Sudha Trivedi <sudha.dave.trivedi@gmail.com>

 

Dear Hemen bhai,

May I wish you all the very best of health,happiness and peace in two thousand twenty one.

The Best thing about the year gone is that it is indeed gone. 

Sudha joins me in  her own way- a message as you can see largely drawn from your book.

Hope, you would like it.

 

Girish

 

                                                           RIPPLES

Rode on ripples as an eternal quest of joy. Enjoyed waves, waters and winds.

With setting of springs and songs of cuckoo,a mighty foe of mankind lurked beneath. Soon thorny headed evil roared like Niagara.

Tides of time hid the shadows and laid their misty icy hands making every heart weary. Covid ! now you are here in the dark valleys, slums and multiplexes. Every home is a lonely cloud. But media tells us : we are so near - so far. Is the disease destroyer's master joke ? Or His certain joy without a purpose ? People are dying like autumn leaves.

The gravedigger of JFK is tired. Gone are voids of spaces. Lack of lilacs on mass graves. Who will cry ? Who will whisper sayonara ?

Omnipresent death is dancing and unlocking the gates of everlasting premonition. Hourglass is tilted. Even sphinx is stunned. Shadow of misery stalks  showing  scars and haunts from Carol isles to Kanyakumari, from Anand to Urbana, from Powai to Lawrence. Man is a commodity now. Disease is the master of ceremony, claiming I have no form but variants.

Western wind blows on this ancient world. Rays of hope are peeping on the shore of ever changing truth. Instead the Tik20 like,bottles of vaccine move round and round. After all the monster is  not here forever. Darkness of night will vanish. Human race will be breathing again beneath the sun singing the song of love and life.

Corona is not forever. It may be the last storm. Life will again be an everlasting picnic. Only you- the creator of cosmos shall bring ambrosia of health to mother earth. She will rejoice- I am free. 

Tomorrow is new year day- 2 0 2 1. As a pillion rider of Girish I send my pranam and regards to you and Bharatiben.

 

Sudha