An excerpt from the Childrens book "WORMUS" by Deepak Menon

The Wonderful Booga Dooga Land Forest

.

There were Golden trees and Green trees
And Silvery trees and Cream trees.
There were large trees and small trees,
Short trees and tall trees;

.
There were trees with fat trunks
And trees with thin trunks.
Trees that grew from the ground
And trees that could hop around

.
There were trees that walked
And some trees that talked
Some trees who could sing
Some with bells that could ring

.
There was even a tree
That no one could see
So as you can see my little one
The Booga Dooga forest is full of fun

.
It is a place that always seems
To be seen by us only in dreams
But be sure that maybe one day
You will see a Pixie along your way

.
And if his name is Pickwick,
don’t forget to ask
The way to the Booga Dooga Land
at last

.

With Love to all the children of this world

Deepak

A Wild Flower in my Garden - Amazing!! - And a poem!

I suddenly noticed this amazing creation of
Nature in my garden and it reminded me of
a poem I wrote long ago - Here it is -

MORNING LIGHT
by
Deepak Menon

Morning light of amber grey
Materializing from the void
Earth's diaphanous veils peeling away,
As draped in Night she invisible lays.
.
Each lifted veil revealing shades
Of silvery grey slowly emerging,
As the starry gown of night fades
Before the imperceptibly surging
.
Tide of morning light that aspires
To clasp lady Earth in its embrace,
In a frenzy of controlled desire,
A blush rising on its face
.
As the fading gown reveals,
In glorious nakedness the charms
That Night covetously conceals,
Within its protective outspread arms.
.
But morning continues relentlessly
The veils called Night, to strip away,
With eyes wide open, breathlessly,
Not caring Nights fears to allay.
.
Till there appear the contours
Against the faintly blushing sky,
Of heaving bosoms silhouetted
While Lady earth does sleeping lie.
.
A gentle zephyr fragrant with the scent
Of Earth's perfumes wafts gently down,
Caressing intrepidly the sacrosanct
Person of Earth in Nights faded gown.
.
A shiver through the figure shimmers
Of sleeping Earth; there is a stir
Of rustling leaves, and there glimmers,
A glimpse of her glory in a blur
.
Of tantalising, immortal, frozen time
Suddenly into focus springing,
As Morning light explodes to shine
Incandescently, with birdsong ringing,
.
The nuptial bells of their union immortal
And the Earth is bathed in ethereal glow,
While the sun peeps gently through the portal
Her beauty to the waiting world to show.
.

A Poem from a compilation Dated 1974 of Sunshine Magazine

THE BANKER AND THE GARDENER
.
A banker passed a gardener.
As each went on his way,
The gardener wished that he could be
A banker, rich and gay.
.
He’d sit in comfort in a chair
Behind his office walls
And greet important, busy men
Who came on urgent calls.
.
He didn’t know the banker’s thoughts.
The banker envied him
His glowing tan, his bright, clear eyes,
His graceful stride and vim.
.
“Oh, what a job!” the banker sighed
“To work near trees and roses,
And breathe fresh air that hasn’t been
In other people’s noses!”

• Posted Without permission from Lyla Myers - the poet

LOVES END - A poem by Deepak Menon

LOVES END

It was brought to my notice
In words profound
By one who has loved intensely
The world around

That the end of love
comes.....
When the stars fall to earth
Crushing freedom into bottomless wells,
And the devils take rebirth
Amidst the clamor of clanging bells,
When volcanoes spout fiery death
Burning emotions into torrid ash,
And tornadoes shout obscene threats
Driving divinity before them to crash,
Into barren hills of cracked stone,
Where none can live nor even stand
For each moment there, lives alone
In the eternity men have not known,
To last but a moment in flaming time,
Which they only have lived to see
And feel, who have tasted the wine
Of love that forever will be
Their conceptualization of eternity
That exists in reveler’s worlds
Where never is seen the Trinity
Nor the flag of prudence unfurled
To be a shroud covering the corpses
Of mindless thoughts that try to fight
The bonds holding the synopsis
Of unborn yearnings put to flight
By constancy coursing the walls
Of forts built only to fall
Before righteousness’ tall
Sanctimonious claims to all
Who would or could never tell
That the end of love was not hell
Nor parting, nor hating as well

But annihilations final bell!!

Touch me not in my garden......

The hand went out to caress the leaves ........








And this is what happened !!!!!!






Sometimes we shrivel up when love reaches out to us.......

The Spear of Eternity - A fabric Painting by Deepak Menon

My first and only attempt at this kind of art ...

LIGHTHOUSE IN A GREY WORLD - A PAINTING BY DEEPAK MENON

THIS WAS PAINTED USING ONLY BLACK
WITH ITS MYRIAD SHADES

PRINCESS - a poem by Deepak Menon

PRINCESS
.

Leaning on the window sill
Waiting for her lord she stands,
Grasping the rusted iron grill
With coarse and worn out hands.
.
Now unkempt with streaks of grey
Her once lustrous locks of hair,
Trail in a tail behind her head
Her eyes locked in a fixed stare.
.
Staring at the bend of the dusty road
Willing him to come into sight,
His frail shoulders carrying the load
Manfully in the failing light,
.
Of the tantalisingly descending sun
Slowly vanishing into night's vale,
As though her little frame to shun
At the window leaning weak and frail.
.
A wistful sigh escapes her lips
As a pleasant memory from long ago,
Into her mind gently skips
Of all the joys she chose to forego.
.
When she followed him, so mild and kind
Into the harsh and cruel world outside,
To stand by his side and there to find
Her very own niche in which to hide.
.

Her eyes glisten with a tear unshed
Unblinking, she thinks of her child,
Lost long ago crying for bread
When hard times, her life defiled.
.
Then her face of a sudden is brightened
With a smile of beatific delight,
She stands erect her bearing lightened
As her Lord comes into her sight.
.
All thoughts of her poverty banished
She races down the stairs to greet,
The man who on her, just love lavished
As wearily he trudges up the street.
.
He sees her running, flying towards him
He drops the bag of toys unsold,
As from the streetlight high above him
He is swathed in a halo of gold.
.
His shoulders square out, his head erect
Contentment seeping into his face,
He stretches out his arms towards her
Wrapping her in tender embrace.
.

Some little while later he picks the things
Still holding her, clasped by his side,
The tattered woman and man on golden wings
Their world complete - walk inside........

MAN BRAINS OR WOMANS BRAIN PRICING LIST

BRAINS
     In the hospital the relatives gathered in the waiting room, where   their family member lay gravely ill.
     Finally, the doctor came in looking tired and somber. "I'm afraid I'm   the bearer of bad news," he said as he surveyed the worried faces.
       "The only hope left for your loved one at this time is a brain   transplant. It's an experimental procedure, very risky but it is the only hope."
       "Insurance will cover the procedure, but you will have to pay for the brain   yourselves." The family members sat silent as they absorbed the news.
       After  a great length of time, someone asked, "Well, how much does a brain cost?"
       The doctor quickly responded, "$5,000 for a male brain, and $200 for a  Female brain."
       The moment turned awkward. Men in the room tried not to smile, avoiding eye   contact with the women, but some actually smirked.
     A man, unable to control   his curiosity, blurted out the question everyone wanted to ask, "Why  is the male brain so much more?"
       The doctor smiled at the childish innocence and explained to the entire group, "It's just standard pricing procedure.  We have to mark down the price of the female brains, because they've actually been used."
.
Cheers.

Clock Tower at Dehradun

A beautiful Heritage Symbol of long ago at the
State Capital of the state of Uttaranchal

The Advantages of not knowing all the ways language is used

KETCHUPA woman was trying hard to get the ketchup
to come out of the bottle.
During her struggle the phone rang, so she asked her
4-year-old daughter to answer the phone.
.
"It's the minister,Mommy," the child said to her mother.
.
Then she added to the caller,
"Mommy can't come to the phone to talk to you right now.
She's hitting the bottle."

A REFLECTION BY ME : - WILL MANKIND EVER BE ABLE TO RETAIN THE INNOCENCE OF CHILDHOOD THROUGH ITS SHORT SOJURN ON EARTH?

Kadhai Pleasures - Peanuts

That is a Picture of an Indian Karhai .

It should be made of Iron to be really good.

And it is used in India for cooking virtually

every kind of vegetables, meat, sweetmeats

and snacks. The peanuts you see have been

roasted in hot sand in a Kadhai and believe it

or dont - there is nothing better than eating

this kind of roasted Indian peanut in the chilly

eventide as winter sets in.

SONNET NO 11 by Deepak Menon

SONNET NO 11
By Deepak Menon

Blemishes on Faces, Club Footed Children and Balding Maidens are part
Of jokes that the Gods play on the little two legged creature called Man
Blaming misfortune on the Gods then, and cursing nature from the start
Is but what must come naturally to the sufferers of this diverse clan.
Is there light in the darkness? And what does light look like? Can it be told
By one who is born without the pretty doe(s)s that the poets most admire?
Is there music in silence? And what does music sound like? Can it be told
By one who is one with the silence of eternity and in silence must retire?
Does God wait in the Churches and Mosques and Temples for man to pray?
That he may hear his voice from among the many who howl for Him
Does man have to bow his head and repeat what the holy men tell him say?
So that, he may be accepted by his fellows - filled with pity for him.
    So many questions asked and so many answers sought -Aeons pass
    Yet we imperfect remain, starkly reflected in life’s looking glass!!

THE TATTERED PENNANT - Title Poem of the Book by Deepak Menon

THE TATTERED PENNANT

'Twas nothing but a flash of purest white
Splitting the velvet fabric of the night
That was the passion of those yesteryears
Already fading ere the bird took flight

Yet, in that briefest of interludes with time
With greedy lips while gulping the wine
The meaning of life was revealed in full
Alas! To have tasted the fruit was the crime.

A bittersweet melody was the sentence passed
An everlasting joy - in eternal sorrow masked
Living memories to keep the wreck afloat
In futile search of a golden shore long past

But as a great bard long gone expressed
"Hope rises eternal in the human breast"
So does the lonely mast in an ocean of tears
Flutter its tattered pennant in its foolish quest.

JUMP IF YOU WANT TO REACH ANYWHERE AND THIS IS A PAINTING I MADE - JUMPING WITHOUT PARACHUTE

This is a Hello from Deepak

This was a wonderful painting in the Tibetan Library at Dehradun - so it took a snap - Run Like the Wind from now on

This is a Hello from Deepak

JOY - A proverb by Deepak Menon

JOY

10.1 Joy is the exhalted happiness that transcends all human
emotions. The meeting between two lovers; The vista of corn
ripening in the farmers field; The sight of a child relishing
food; all these give joy. And the greatest joy is the joy that
owes its birth to love.


10.2 To enjoy is to have a ephemeral feeling of pleasure on the
happening of a short lived event. Enjoyment lasts only as long as
the event and does not touch the deeper emotions. Joy permeates
to the very core of ones soul and touches the tenderest chords in
our hearts.


10.3 Is there any joy as intense and as surely destined to
retreat into gloom as the joy of a lover ?

SONNET NO 5 - By Deepak Menon

Ah! The pleasures of the flesh be nothing compared
To the savoring of a morsel when hunger calls
To the solace when in sickness am I tenderly cared
To its soothing touch when the summer rain falls

O! The pain of parting from my true love is naught
Compared to the agony when mine child does cry
Or the feel of his brow when it’s feverish and hot
Or from the glimpse of a tear in mother’s eye

But hunger’s soon forgot till the next meal
And autumn erases memories of the summer rain
A toy stops the cries and the pain soon does heal
Soon forgot is the tear in mother’s eye had lain

....... But my yearning for the tender looks of Love's eyes
....... Is simmering constancy – a glimpse of Paradise!

RAGE - A POEM BY Deepak Menon

RAGE

Simmering Rage, this gentle world fills
Blind Rage fanned by sympathy,
Sympathy which around us mills
Arousing Rage instead of empathy.

Rage that we cannot our conscience still
Rage against our hidden guilt,
Rage blurring and blinding our vision till
Sympathy is covered with a dark quilt,

Of apathy, on which we proudly walk
No longer seeing the ones in need,
Of indifference, on which we boast and talk
And to sympathy's calls we pay no heed.

We hear not the supplications of the weak
We care not whether they starve or feed,
We slide past those who our sympathy seek
Or bury them like lifeless seed.

For without Rage our minds to seal
From the suffering which fills our world,
Knowing we are helpless its sores to heal
Into insanity, we would be hurled.

Deepak Menon

And they all around - silently lie - A Poem by Deepak Menon

And they all around - silently lie

There is a poem in the fall of a leaf,

There is a poem in the bark of a tree,

There is a poem in the flight of a bird,

There is a poem in the wind blowing free.

.

So open your mind and consign to the deep,

The opaque shroud which covers your eye,

And look around and wake from sleep,

The poems which all everywhere silently lie.

.

The poems embalmed in the potters clay,

The poems frozen in the grains of wood,

The poems hidden all along your way,

The poems lying crushed under your foot.

.

You need not to read a ponderous tome,

Like this book you hold in your hand,

To discover the poems which have their home,

On sky and sea and on land.

.

So replace on the shelf this book of sorts,

And break the shell within which you live,

And unutterable beauty will flood your thoughts,

When surrendering, nature its poetry will give!!,

.
Deepak Menon
Copyright ©1999 Deepak Menon