An Achievement

In shades of brown and hanging tongue,
He waited his turn amid human swarm,
scared,yet solemn,calm and composed,
The puppy waited to cross the road.

Tyres and legs too many; vehicles abound,
he dodged and shrieked, yet stood his ground,
Alone, the tiny-tot's gaze puzzled in the din,
sandwiched he crawled with Giant's around.

And then , the moment of Glory arrived,
when traffic, to the red light slowed,
He flapped ears,wagged furious,
eyes sparked with possible hope.
,he marched along
with little steps, brave and bold
And then,
the little puppy crossed the road..

Indrajit Ghosal.
O Santa !

To the homes that know no Christmas,
To the ruffians , that know no Home,
To every lonely breath beneath the flyovers,
Santa, you remain a myth, an elusive clone.

To the riches and well-heeled you grace,
in real, with gifts and mischief-ladened face,
to the blessed ones, with fortunes you bless,
and jive with carols and bells to showcase.

O santa, don't you see in those dingy lanes,
Poverty dwells in monstrous shame,
Married with agony , marred by fate,
bereaved of the taste of Christmas cake .

Santa, please show up at every other door,
let them all peek into your gift's galore,
The myth be abandoned, for once let them say,
"Yes, Santa came here in a one horse open sleigh."

Indrajit ghosal
Copyright(c)reserved 2007

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