Marriages - from Finance Professional's Perspective

Marriages they say are made in heaven,
But stated and accounted they are sure on the earth.
A merger of two separate entities in a business combination,
And valued they are on a going concern basis.
A case of pooling of interests with lots of synergies,
And a lot of goodwill that does never impair.
Capital expenses are made to generate perpetual gift incomes,
And working capital is raised to support the merged entity.
Growth in the family is expected but not a terminal one,
And credits are deferred for feeding the new accounts created.
Share capital in bank balances is enhanced for capital adequacy,
And debt funds are raised for funding infrastructure development.
Friends and relationships are the biggest intangibles identifiable,
Amortized they are over a period not greater than the useful life.
White knights are put in place and hostile bids thwarted,
To close a deal with joys and happiness in bargain purchase.

A Future Unmade - For Deloitte Impact Day - Against Child Labor

Walking down the busy lane on my way to office,
While gulping cheesy sandwich and sipping hot coffee,
I glanced inside the main gate of a primary school,
Bustling it was with life as was the street outside.
The bubbling energy of kids engrossed in their games,
And the joy of watching the young and curious souls,
Made me slow down my pace and stop at their playground.
Their boisterous laughter, innocent explanations of the world around,
And innovative ways to keep themselves happy at all times,
Made me envy them and think of my attitude to life and its problems.
I decided to proceed with my daily life and turned around,
Just then my eyes fell on a girl with a broom in her hand,
Wearing patched frock with broken buttons and walking clumsily,
With marks of struggle to survive already on her forehead,
Her face sullen and limbs fragile, she was to clean up the ground,
A life completely in contrast with those around her,
But similar only in respect that she was a child too.
A future unmade that she was for a present unsung,
A life unnoticed that she had in the maze of miseries,
Sacrificed was all for some food that she took home,
Will there be recourse for her is one of life’s big mysteries.

The Crucible

The aura of your heavenly corpus,
Draws me by your divine force,
And raises an inner turmoil and chaos,
Will there be for me recourse?

That if I live, I will toil and rise,
But if with you, I shall live like a king,
That when I die, I will soar with the angels,
But if in your arms, soar I will to Him.

Let courage be my biggest strength,
And fear of loss and abandonment the hurdles,
Let me reach you through owe and obedience,
And through faith and loving devotion.

Bow I shall to your commands,
And I shall fit in with my hopes of life,
To scale down the crucible,
To win you in a stellar stride.

A Thought for You

The moonlight that peeps through the clouds,
And melts on the pearls at the sea shores,
And twinkles on the silver white lotus,
But bows and fades to your beauty.

The smoky rings of fire with fragrance,
That splutter and reign the blue sky,
And as a lightening spark off the night,
Compares less to the sound of your laughter.

The halo of the bright red lit Sun,
That engulfs the silence of the planet,
And purifies the boundless dark,
But does less to the world than your wit.

The thin smooth lines of a portrait,
That the shining white marbles engrave,
Bestow the charm of pious angelic boon,
And concur to the sagacity of your innocence.

The Goddess

With my eyes wide open,
I find myself floating in the dark,
Enveloped by the vastness of the universe,
And in the company of the dimly lit stars,
And sluggishly rotating planets,
And I hear but my breaths in and out.

Then with a whoosh,
And with a blazing trail of golden rays,
Draped in marigolds and tulips,
Haloed and with a pacifying smile,
The Goddess blesses me with her sight,
As I live to cherish her.

The Monsoon

In the crooked creaky landscape,
With the bright hot sand dunes glowing,
And the thirsty crust moaning,
Hot rays of Sun reign supreme.

The groans of the burnt grasses,
And the anguish of the barely alive,
With the woefully waif sky,
Anger of summer is at its prime.

With the flutter of the dark clouds,
The earth wakes up to a cool breeze,
And enlivens the tortured souls,
As the temple bells chime.

The pious touch of her feet sprouts the seeds,
And her sweet whispers coo through the air,
And her wavering serpentine hair,
Shield the land from the sunshine.

An angel from the heart of the globe,
And the epitome of beauty and grandeur,
Monsoon brings joy for the country,
As blessings of God rhyme.

At the Airport Restaurant

Under the slowly rotating ceiling fan
With the shrill aircraft engine din,
And a Malayalam scripted monitor,
I shrug away all my present,
To the pleasure of waiting for you.

The wooden varnished chair in the front,
Where you sat just a moment ago,
I look at and read its emotions,
With a shy smile just like yours,
It winks to assure that you will be back soon.

The Sky Surfer

With a rainbow wrapped over my eyes,
And winged,
I soar high in the sky,
A million tree tops above mother earth.

I whirl and swirl,
And hear the wind rush at my ears,
And could break at my finger tips,
In my free fall.

I glide and float,
Like a little fig,
And sense the air bubble in my heart,
That sways to my songs.

The sky surfer,
That I incarnate into, inebriated,
True it is all,
For the feast I have of a beautiful life.

In My Garden

The silk of the sunrays piercing through the mist,
And the flows of the rain drops from the heavens,
That sieve through the criss-crossed coconut leaves,
And weave a colorful tapestry on the bare ground,
And make me dream of you being here.

That little squirrel with its raised tail,
In the heavy down pour of the monsoons,
Tries a hideout in the caves of the guava stem,
And looks through its mystified crystal eyes,
And makes me remember your shy looks.

A pious white pigeon with bright red beak,
Drenched in the rain rests on the mango tree-top,
Willows and throws out pearls of rain drops,
Like the sun radiating its rays all around,
And makes me long for joy that emanates from you.

A day in the maze

The day breaks with my mobile phone alarm ring,
And thus begins the wait for your touchdown,
While I brush my teeth, take a bath and chew my breakfast,
I paint your picture on the canvas of your thoughts,
Boarding and alighting Mumbai trains along with floods of humanity,
I lose my senses but do remember our talks before your take-off.
Dust laden and seat smitten I stare at my computer screen,
And the dark vi-editor vanishes to give way to your glowing image,
End of the office work sees me negotiate the labyrinthine streets,
But on my way back, I carry nothing more than the thoughts of yours.
Walking back to the railway station and all through the train journey,
The hope of your phone call seems like the saving grace for the day.
Sleepy dinner and drowsy talk shows on the television that veer pointlessly around,
Add intensity to the aching head, paining toes and moaning heart.
But then with the music of my phone that connects our souls and brings you to me,
My spirits swell boundless as I prepare to take on the world very next day.

You

As a cute little girl in her yellow frocks,
That sits on the green bench of a verdant garden,
With her pink little Barbie doll,
And talks to the tiny squirrel on her lap,
So is the honey drop of verses you tell.

As a little soul in her early bloom,
Running after a colorful naughty butterfly,
Tires and rests in the lap of old banyan,
And gazes through her eyes the distant stars,
So are the million songs that your eyes sing to me.

As the two playful kids engrossed in their game,
Unaware of the world around,
And talking of the philosophies of the life speechless,
In the language of the looks and feels,
So is you, God’s blessing bestowed on me.

Across the Arabian Sea

In the silence of hollow universe,
My soul floats weightless with nowhere to drift,
Lifeless and marooned for the thirst of your love,
Bruised and bleeding, kneeling on the emptiness,
My trembling voice freezes and falls like snowflakes,
Lost are my words, thus, starved of your warmth,
Stressing out each pore on my body gone pale,
My speechless prayers pierce through the gloom.

Your exuberance sails to me on the dancing starlight,
Warmth of your skin sparkles and pulsates my nerves,
Your rainbow smile erupts a million blue rays of life,
Touch of your wet lips from across the Arabian Sea sprouts fountains of joy,
With a soothing hug and a soulful chat through your dove eyes,
Awakes and arises my slumbering soul to life,
With sky-wide wings spread, my present dances to your tune,
God’s own daughter, I treasure your gifts that let me bloom.

Phoenix

Born and beaten,
Fettered and flogged,
Lifeless,
My poor soul, cried.

Exposed and harassed,
Deserted and abandoned,
And cast away,
My pursuit for distant goal, sank.

Flunked in my crucible,
Guilefully guillotined,
And buried,
My mind, under the muddy times.

Fermented and frozen,
Robbed off and forgotten,
But reincarnate,
Phoenix of my life shall.

Joie de Vivre

By the coconut tree,
A heap of hollow,
Grows into a nimbus,
And floats in the azure of the sky.

From the depths of the blues,
Unperturbed for the tryst,
Rises a ball of air,
And burst on the surfs.

Burdened and stabbed,
A man chained and whipped,
Dragging on the rocky path,
Smiles with a quiver.

The love of live,
It is the beginning of a life-long romance.

You and I

With the music of splashing surf,
And the cool silver-white sand beneath,
In the misty veiled moonlit night,
As the winds coo through the woods,
Born are my eclectic thoughts,
That all echo round you.

With the touch of your memory,
My fingers begin with flair,
Carved on the snowy sand is your name,
Spell bound, as if,
I write my name beside yours,
And my love pours on them,
The best verses they are that I ever penned.

Then, with the cascading waters,
I fall back on my grounds,
And those golden imprints vanish,
Without faintest of trail,
But I love you so much,
That before erasing yours,
I rub off my name.

At the Edge

At the sound of footsteps,
Of an imminent dawn,
That is to bring a full blossom,
How does the heart of s bud beat?

A seed longing for a gigantic spread,
Across the blue skies,
With what anxiety,
Does it await the first drop of rain?

A sluggish meandering flow,
In the prime of its voyage,
How elegantly curious is it,
To merge its existence into the eternal seas?

The moonlit radiant face of a bride,
With fluttering luscious lips,
How does it blush with a vermilion tinge,
With the thoughts of tryst of her lifetime?

My life at the lull of this juncture,
With deep bright silence engulfing it,
Awaits with them,
As I crave for my goal that lies a step ahead.

Birthday wishes for Supriya, my life.

Let the red of a blooming rose,
Be the color of my luminous love for you,
Let the yellow of the bright sun shine,
Be the elegance of your royal attires,
Let the orange of a dew-wet lotus,
Be the mercy of God’s blessings,
Let the green of deep Himalayan forests,
Be the lap of natural dwellings for you,
Let the blue of clear wide noon sky,
Be the love and care of all your friends,
Let the indigo of the shallow sea shores,
Be the presence of you mom and sister,
Let the violet of playful lilies in the lake,
Be the music of good wishes of my parents,
Let the white of combination of all colors,
Be the peace of you long blissful life,
And be the truth, faith and support of our relation,
And be the ever enveloping love of God,
On this birthday and all your days ahead.

Rain in Mumbai

The rain poured in incessantly as if to drown the earth,
And drains sprouted fountains to add to the filth and woes,
Slippery wheels of countless vehicles churned the slush,
As did toes of pedestrians to muddy pools in their shoes.

All potholes got their much deserved share of pudding,
And splashed they all their booty in celebration on passers by,
Pebbles that were road-bound broke free to the tune of rain,
And all that remained for the moaning traffic was to sigh and sigh more.

The pulsating life lines of Mumbai screeched to a grinding halt,
To the dismay of their railroads swallowed by rising water level,
And the dense overcast mirrored on millions of faces,
As anxieties of sleepless night in their offices began to wobble.

Half wet and totally cold as lives waded through their ways,
The question of comfortable abode began to come afloat,
Bodies knee-high soiled and waste-low soaked in drizzle,
To them what to hardships of a rudderless life purport?

Our nights

A dark night with wild wind blowing across,
When the green and white curtains sway free,
Lost I am in my own world that’s so very full,
Full of your carefree whispers and joyous laughter,

The coconut courtyard and mango orchards,
That bathe in the fury of Monsoon,
Listen they do to my soulful musings,
The crooning that do for the pleasure of you,

The silence of the midnight that engulfs the roads,
And the tranquility of my huge house,
Break they into applause a thunderous one,
Listening to philosophies of life we talk,

The distant sounds of dogs barking on the streets,
That distract the Monalisa wall hanging,
As her wry smile turns into a wide pompous one,
Overhearing the love chat we do across miles.

Life

Life is but a disillusionment,
Myths shatter everyday with crushing effect,
Foundations that are taken for granted,
Vanish they in thin air to let into a free fall,
Indeed, life is a long journey all alone,
Alone it is, may be not a lone one,
People come and pass by walking a few steps along,
But waits no one, for one has to travel ones's course,
Worship we do and depend on all that seem permanent,
In the bliss of ignorance life is wasted,
In a wild goose chase that we realize,
Realize we do but only on the death bed,
A life that could be so full of wonders,
Squander we away all its precious moments,
That we do all for the lack of soulful keenness,
To make this small stay away home a truly happy one.