The Days Are Cloudy and Dark

 

The days are cloudy and dark,

And the nights are always so.

No matter whichever way I go,

I find myself stuck in the devil’s park.

I’ve now got so used to the darkness

That I no longer miss the sun.

No longer from pillar to post do I run

To seek the tricky world’s solace.

 

Copyright © 2017 RAMU DAS

Oh Lonesome Me

Here is a song by Don Gibson, and my situation is no better than what the lyrics of the song say.

 

Everybody’s going out and having fun
I’m just a fool for staying home and having none
I can’t get over how she set me free
Oh lonesome me

A bad mistake I’m making by just hanging round
I know that I should have some fun and paint the town
A lovesick fool is blind and just can’t see
Oh lonesome me

I’ll bet she’s not like me
she’s out and fancy free
She’s flirtin’ with the boys with all her charms
But I still love her so
And brother don’t you know
I’d welcome her right back here in my arms

Well, there must be some way
I can lose these lonesome blues
Forget about the past and find somebody new
I’ve thought of everything from A to Z
Oh lonesome me

I’ll bet she’s not like me
She’s out and fancy free
She’s flirtin’ with the boys with all her charms
But I still love her so
and brother don’t you know
I’d welcome her right back here in my arms

There must be some way
I can lose these lonesome blues
Forget about the past and find somebody new
I’ve thought of everything from A to Z
Oh lonesome me
Oh lonesome me
Ohhhhh.

 

Lovebirds

Lovebirds often fight,
Make, and then break many a promises
Shed tears, wet their pillows and mattresses
But if one decides to go quiet,
The other seems unable to survive
They are, after all, each other’s delight.

Though their fights are never ending
But as a while goes
In their reasonable and unreasonable reasoning
In all gain and loss
They once again only find a new beginning
And thus their love keeps renewing

That’s how love birds are –
In love while being at war
Near, ever when afar.
Seem uncaring but they care.

Copyright © 2017 RAMU DAS

 

Cow, Dog, and Man

Dog: Hey, Cow, holy or unholy, I hate you!
Cow: Why do you hate me?
Dog: Because I am loyal, I am kind and cute, but you, oh dear god, why do you get all the attention, all the love! I hate you! Hate, hate, hate! Bow-bow, bow!
Cow: Ammbaaaaa!
Dog: Don’t call your man! All men discriminate! Their best friend – a dog! To hell with men!
Cow: Ammbaaaaa!
Man: What troubles you, darling cow!
Cow: The dog hates me!
Dog: Bow… Bow-bow!
Cow: Ammbaaaaa!
Man: We men love you, cow! Don’t cry, don’t cry!
Dog: Bow… Bow-bow… bow, bow!

The man and the cow ganged up against the dog. The man decided to ship the dog to China (to be consumed in their popular Yulin festival), but the cow had more more intelligence than the man and the cow made more sense. The cow suggested that instead of transporting the dog to China (a foreign country) which would incur heavy transportation cost, it would be better to send it to Nagaland (which, whether some of the Nagas like it or not, is within India) where dog meat is as much a delicacy as it is in China! The man agreed and the dog was never heard of again.

Copyright © 2017 RAMU DAS

Be Careful of Cats, Particularly Black Cats

My grandmother had no affection for my lovely feline friends. She had a particular and a serious dislike for one such friend of mine that had a dark complexion. This jolly good friend had often found a way to enter my house in search of food and, if I may say so, love. I liked it immensely and named it Darkie. For giving such a name, I could have been accused of being a racist, I could have been tried in a court of law as well, but it was a cat and I knew cats could file no law suit; all they can do is say ‘meow!’ So every time I called Darkie by its name, it meowed!

The dark complexion of the cat, said my grandmother, was a sign of pure evil. To get some attention when Darkie came to me and purred and rubbed its body against my legs, my grandmother would say that the cat was cursing me in its language, that it was spreading its nefarious power over me, and that something bad would now befall me. She used to scold me whenever I had walked past a path that the cat had crossed before me. She used to say that I must call the names of all the gods and goddesses before I dare to take a step ahead. “But, granny,” I had objected, “the cat is going its way, and I, mine.”

She did not like the way I gave my time and attention to Darkie and she made faces and said that I had no respect for her, that I was arrogant for not heeding the words of a wise old woman. I knew, like any other cat, Darkie had a heart as well, and I could vouch for the fact that Darkie had a heart of gold. But my grandma said that if Darkie had a heart at all, it would be darker than its complexion!

My grandmother was unreformable. Her beliefs and opinions, though superstitious, were strongly held and she had lived with her opinions for over 80 years, so any newfangled idea hardly mattered to her. Before my grandmother bid adieu to the world, her last piece of advice for me was: “Be careful of cats, particularly black cats.”

Copyright © 2017 RAMU DAS

Upon Making a Mistake

Even a minor mistake rattles me
When made, shame engulfs, guilt overpowers
And a cloud of sadness around my head hovers
I would have been better off without being so silly!

The thought of having made a mistake,
Of having not been more careful,
And of having made myself a fool
Is, although I try, difficult to forsake.

Yes, I see the mistake and I know I made it
But, no, it’s not that I don’t know
The right way of doing it and saying it.
Only for a moment I let the rein of my sense go.

Copyright © 2017 RAMU DAS

Bulging Belly

No one wants to be fat, no one! But, and this makes me sad to say, I am putting on weight (after looking at me in my present state, my friends, too, have said that to me). My belly is growing bigger. It is not beer which should be held accountable for it. I have stopped drinking beer a long time back (but, let me also inform you, when I say ‘a long time back’ I mean it has been a month). And, no, it is not even the junk food; I avoid all kinds of junk food (burger, vada pav, and what have you, to hell with them!). Lately, on the basis of one of my colleagues’ suggestion, I have started drinking green tea (it works wonders he claimed and I, the fool, believed). All this, no matter what merit they may have, don’t seem to work for me. Hence, like many of my friends, I decided I would join a gym. But after hearing what my parents had to say about me joining a gym, I decided not to join any gym ever.

My mother asked: “Gym? But what is gym?”

I tried to explain what a gym means and what people do in a gym.

My father, being a business-minded person that he is, asked, “Well, then, how much will you get paid for it?”

I told him that it is I who has to pay instead. Hearing this my father heaved a sigh of disappointment. “I grew up doing hard work,” he said in a very serious tone, “but never have I taken the pain of lifting someone else’s load.” He looked at my mother who also seemed to be of the same opinion as him. “And,” my father continued, “if at all I ever did that, I got paid, not that I paid for it!”

Perhaps I can find a better way to be in shape than lifting someone else’s load. I suppose running would help, but I fear what my parents would have to say about that. Would they say: “What are you running from?” or “What/Who are you running after?” And then, I wonder, would they also add: “We never ran from or after anybody or anything.”

Copyright © 2017 RAMU DAS