Followers

Pages

Monday, 16 April 2012

My Grandfather's Bicycle


(This poem is a tribute to my grandfather's  bicycle which I always rode when I was a kid. But as I grew up, I could not find any use for it, hence it stood  "leaning on the wall"in our backyard for many long years before it was finally sold to a junk dealer. I regret not having cared for that one thing which was a source of great joy to me during my childhood. 

It depicts my lament with an undertone as to how man usually forgets long treasured things upon meeting new found indulgence.)


There it stands leaning on the wall,
On a simple touch it shouts a call,
Be not deceived for on days sunny and in the rain,
It carried me through throngs thick and plain

I stole it from under its master's eyes,
And rode it all right after a dozen tries,
It never let me use my feet,
Carried me to distant meadows and friends in need;

The neighbourhood brats always on a chase,
But it'd fly with me and top every race
Though many came and challenged to win,
We always rode ahead and clean

I was never nervous in a race,
For I knew it'd surely top every chase,
It got me rid of the school bully,
And I held on to it so dearly

It risked all and let me have my way,
It smiled through pains and bumps I gave it night & day,
Cried and complained it never
It rolled over wounds and seemed to go on forever;

My lures changed and I moved on,
To newer rides with flashy horn
Never looked back on that thing so slow
So what!, if once I begged for it bendin' low;

It had left its master & to me it clung close,
It went on, no matter what I chose,
Only to see that one day I'd leave it
To stand alone and get covered with dirt

My heart's in a race all the time
Seeking bliss and pleasures sublime
But the one who gave me those tastes first
Now wears a coat made of rust

It has no hopes I can hold,
Yet it dreads the day when it'd be sold
It has no illusions any more,
I've achieved to make it feel unwanted to its core

No one bothers anymore to recall,
How once it stood by us in our chores big and small
'T's okay if it's forgotten by its people,
After all it's just my grandfather's bicycle.


                                                                                     - Anupam



3 comments: