We don’t know how many people read poetry but it’s certain that many people write poetry to express themselves poetically. Be it traditional rhyme fashion or today’s freewheeling poetry which gives a lot of room to say whatever is in one’s mind…for some reason men of science like to write about what life is all about.
Meet DR SRIDHAR IYER, a former chief scientist of the National Institute of Oceanography in Goa. He has an enquiring poetic muse in his soul and two books in his cap of achievements. The first Musings of a Madrasi’ is a compilation of short stories, jokes, poems, random thoughts and what have you, written over three to four decades and first published in various publications. Dr Sridhar Iyer says his “writings were made as and when some stray thoughts struck like lightning and got grounded or when ideas flashed like light from a series of small bulbs of LED…” His more recent anthology of poetryPoetic Musings’ which is packed with some cool, gentle, inspirational poems are worth reading. About 125 poems offer insight into themes marked Dreams, Images, Love, Miscellany, Moon, Nature, Shadows, Silence. The poet lives a retired life in Panaji with his wife Kamakshi and son Sainandan.
‘Goan Observer’ offers a selection of poems from Sridhar D Iyer’s `Poetic Musings’ published by Amazon Publishing in 2022:
- DON’T CAST YOUR EVIL EYES!
As she comes prancing like a doe
Don’t cast your evil eyes.
As she flashes a sunny smile
Stop casting your evil eyes.
As she croons like a cuckoo
No use if you cast your evil eyes.
As she speaks in a musical tone
Never cast your evil eyes.
As she waves her fingers like a butterfly
It is pointless to cast your evil eyes.
Don’t harm her with your evil eyes.
She is naturally protected.
Not by any talismans or charms
But by a cute mole near her left eye!
19. DON’T CAST YOUR EVIL EYES!
As she comes prancing like a doe
Don’t cast your evil eyes.
As she flashes a sunny smile
Stop casting your evil eyes.
As she croons like a cuckoo
No use if you cast your evil eyes.
As she speaks in a musical tone
Never cast your evil eyes.
As she waves her fingers like a butterfly
It is pointless to cast your evil eyes.
Don’t harm her with your evil eyes.
She is naturally protected.
Not by any talismans or charms
But by a cute mole near her left eye!
46. IF LOVE WAS A SUBJECT!
Chemistry of love needs no precipitation!
Nor does physics require a touch!
History of love doesn’t look into the past!
Archaeology of love is not to dig up the buried!
Biology of love is not only about,
Flowers, nectars, birds and bees!
Love is like medical science, as
Your pulses race and brains overwork!
Try not to seriously dissect love,
Else you could expose the skeletons!
Don’t be a mathematician by Adding
Dividing, Subtracting or Multiplying love
To find an unknown `x’ or `Y1’
Let there be civics but no politics in love!
Love is a fine art and has several languages
But don’t make it a Tower of Babel!
When in Love, best be like a Geologist!
Down to earth and stand like a rock!
Yet, be yielding and sublime like soil
And mouldable like soft clay!
94. DÉJÀ VU!
In our existence, destiny decides
Our meeting with Whom, When
Where, How and of course Why!
It is not a quirk of providence
Nor incidence or coincidence
That we cross and chance upon
Someone special from a previous life.
And when we do –
Eyes do the talking.
Thoughts are exchanged freely.
Words weave seamlessly.
Footsteps fall in harmony.
Is it difficult to decide as to
Who starts and who ends.
A conversation or meeting of minds
These are moments of déjà vu!
There seems to be a deep empathy.
Is this magic, ESP, telekinesis, or telepathy?
Or a karmic connection from eternities?
Well, who are we to go against destiny!
Stop fighting with good fate
And go with the flow.
If we are meant to be one
No matter what, we would be then!
105. MOON AS A MESSENGER!
In the days of yore, messages of love
Were sent through pigeons and doves.
The poor birds winged their way
For a fistful of seeds and grains.
The rich and affluent used runners
And waited for good news, till they returned..
The tired runners forgetting all their pains
Ran and ran, though they had nothing to gain.
Brothers, sisters, friends and strangers were used
To deliver secret endearing letters as missiles of love.
None knowing whether their mission to help eagerly.
Would be successful, aborted or an utter failure.
In the past, there were phones to the rescue
Hail Alexander Graham Bell.
Thanks to coming of the mobiles and cells
Now we can talk for hours and hours on end.
The above have flaws and may fail
For any reasons, sometime or the other.
Your messages could be mis-delivered
And could land up in the wrong hands and ears.
To safely convey your emotions and feelings
Without any worries or impediments
Use the omnipresent Moon which is free
And is willing to help forever.
By glancing at the magnificent Moon
Will `read’ you from anywhere.
And yo will not have any fear
Tht there are eavesdroppers everywhere!
121. SHADOW PLAY!
Some days I see you, some days not.
Are the eyes as usual troubling me?
Some days I hear you coming, some days not.
Am I slowly losing my powers of listening?
Some days I talk to you, some days not.
Is my imagination recklessly running wild?
Some days I guffaw alone, some days not.
Am I becoming a laughing matter?
Some days you are behind me, some days in front.
Is it all a cruel play of light and shadow?
Are all these merciless memories?
Is my mind playing endless games?
Or, am I being taken for a royal ride
By the shadow of someone very dear?
