The Sunrise that belongs Elsewhere

The Sunrise that belongs Elsewhere

Each morning,

at nearly the same hour,

two words arrived

like a small bird returning home. 

"Good morning." 

To the world,

they were ordinary words. 

But,

To one waiting heart,

they were sunlight

and shadow together. 

Four years had passed

since touch had spoken

where words could not. 

Four years

of crowded calendars,

family duties,

business calls,

celebrations,

obligations,

and postponed promises. 

Yet not one morning

had missed its greeting.

The sender loved.

The receiver knew it. 

Love lives

in the faithful arrival,

in concern disguised as casual questions,

in messages sent before dawn,

and in thoughts shared after midnight. 

But one heart belonged

to many worlds:

To family.

To responsibility.

To reputation.

To duty. 

And somewhere,

carefully protected,

to a secret love. 

The other heart

belonged almost entirely

to that love alone. 

That was the difference. 

Whenever a meeting seemed near,

life stepped in between. 

A family gathering.

A business shopping.

An urgent commitment.

A responsibility impossible to refuse. 

Apologies followed.

Forgiveness followed too.

What else could love do? 

One morning,

after reading the familiar greeting,

a reply began to form:

"How beautiful to be remembered

in a sunrise

that belongs elsewhere."

The words lingered.

Then disappeared. 

Instead came the simpler answer:

"Good morning." 

Moments later,

a small heart appeared on the screen. 

Nothing more.

No embrace.

No stolen afternoon.

No fulfilled longing. 

Only a tiny red symbol,

glowing quietly

between two separate lives. 

And yet,

for a moment,

it was enough.

For sometimes love survives

not on what it receives,

but on the certainty

that somewhere,

amid all the duties of the world,

it is still remembered

every morning. 

~ Dr Intaj Malek

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Musing on LOL

  
Lol, lol, lol — the laughter toll,
It echoes deep in every soul.
Wherever I wander, city or knoll,
In café or court, I find my lol.
 
He sits in GST, quite at ease,
Glides through tribunals like a breeze.
With Saxena, he winks and grins,
With Patel, he always wins.
 
But Thakker was, a sterner creed
Too slant to let lol intercede.
Lol, so frank, so straight and spry,
Finds no place where glances lie.
 
It’s holy still, and yet profane,
A joke in prayer, a dance in rain.
Lol rides a Vespa in Old Delhi,
Then sips chai in Notting Hill alley.
 
From Phuket sands to Canada's snow,
To Colombo's spice-sweet evening glow
Lol travels light, and travels far,
Tucked in a meme, or a seminar.
 
He trolls at times, in joke or jest,
Not always kind, not always best.
But mostly warm, with heart and soul,
A gentle giggle, a comic goal.
 
Not penned in some divine decree,
Yet holy in his levity.
In every scroll, in every role
Lives the eternal, laughing lol.
 
 
~ Dr Intaj Malek

Phoebus on La Grace

Today the Phoebus has descended with Grace
Bestowing bounteous mirth on La Grace
But the sunbeam I saw yesterday
Seems vanished or on leave today

No, the sun beam whispered in my ears
I never change my course through the years
It's you, seemed vanished from your course
To enjoy my bliss adhere to time's force

Nature runs and turns and burns in rhythmic way
But the man shuts and cuts and beats and slays
Always he goes astray and weaves hollow dreams
That obstruct the entry of dancing sun beams

- Dr. Intaj Malek

In the Hands of the People

All my friend, elders, country people

Beloved citizens, heed this plea,

Consider well where your vote should be.

Decide wisely, for the future's sake,

 

Ensure your choice shall not be a mistake.

For the nation's good, choose with care,

Guide it away from darkness and despair.

 

Hold fast to values, don't give in,

Investigate and think let truth begin.

Justice and fairness, let them prevail,

Keep out corruption, let truth unveil.

 

Look beyond guarantees, see what's real,

M ake a stand, for the people's appeal.

Never forget, your vote has great might,

O ppose oppression, stand up and fight.

Perhaps it's time for a change of hand,

 

Question authority, make a strong stand.

Remember, your vote shapes the land,

Seek out justice and equality take a stand.

Tell others too, spread the word,

 

Unmask falsehoods, let truth be heard.

Voice your concerns, don't be swayed,

Warn others, don't let them fade.

Xenophobia, reject with might, don't abstain,

Yearn for a better future, free from chains.

Zero shall be tyranny, Hitler shall not reign.

 

~ Dr Intaj Malek

Never alone

Never Alone 

In the world of knowledge, I am never alone, From dawn to dusk,I remain in bustling tone. Surrounded by friends, fans, and many more, In teaching's embrace, ways of muse I adore.

Among students of all hues young and old, In every discipline, my heart deeply unfold. Ashok, Dinesh, Pritesh, and gentle crew, We soar high with Jagu, Nishu, and Lolu too.

Bakar, my brother, forever by my side, Even on way to abode where souls abide. With all my family in their Love's embrace, In books and fans,I find solace and grace.

So when the night may darken the sky, In companionship, my loneliness will die. For in this journey, I am never on loan, In love and learning, I'm never alone.

~ Dr Intaj Malek

In the grip of fever

In the grip of humbo humbo fever's sway,

My soul takes flight upon the poet's bay.

With cheeks ablaze and mind a-whirl,

I'm seized by words, like a lyrical pearl.

 

As fever's fire courses through my veins,

I dance with muses in poetic reins.

In trance-like state, I freely roam,

From philosophy's heights to literature's home.

 

Oh, fevered brow and fevered plight,

Igniting verses in the dead of night.

From Lol to Pritu, my mind does roam,

As Tennyson's waves my thoughts find home.

 

With each rise and fall, a verse is born,

In fever's embrace, my spirit's torn.

But thanks, dear fever, for the gift you bring,

A muse in disguise, with every sting.

~ Dr Intaj Malek

Shadows of Deceit

In shadows deep, where truth retreats,

Lies a party of deceitful feats.

Thieves and decoits, their masquerade,

Rapists lurk in the dark they've made.

 

A saga of vein glory and falsehood spun,

By liars and blunderers, they're overrun.

Principles and morals lost, on barren ground,

In this party of pomp,  white lies unbound.

 

Divide and conquer, their age-old game,

Chaos and anarchy, their claim to fame.

Misleading courts, with twisted tongues,

This party's anthem, where deceit belongs.

 

Plutocrats and autocrats, there thrive,

In the shadows where truth doesn’t survive.

But in the light of day, we'll stand,

Against this party's tyrant hand.

 

In the web of lies, citizens are ensnared,

By falsehoods spun, they're left impaired.

Mesmerised youths, in its grip they sway,

Led astray from truth's guiding ray.

 

Wealth flows freely to businesses grand,

In exchange, mere pennies in hand.

The poor, forgotten, voiceless they stand,

Their cries ignored in this corrupted land.

 

Yet hope still flickers, a beacon bright,

Guiding us through the darkest night.

For truth will rise, its power untold,

To reclaim what this party has sold.

~ Dr Intaj Malek

Rosacea on my cheeks

In a sudden blush, my cheeks turned red, A hue so vivid and glossy like a tale unsaid, As if brushed by makeup's gentle touch, A rosy glow, it seemed, a bit too much.

At first, a beauty in that pink embrace, A lovely pink tint bedecked my face, Days passed, and it ventured more, No pain, no itch, just that rosy lore.

Slowly, its canvas began to grow, lines did show, near eyes and brow, Scales and patches, an unforeseen plan, An older mask on face on a younger man.

Fear clasped tight, I sought a guide, A kind-hearted dermatologist beside, She found the cause, not a dire fuss, Rosacea was it and not Lupus plexus.

Medicines came, in a blend to heal, Antihistamines, a soothing seal, Topical mix, with a professional grace, Restoring to me my original former face.

Originality, a treasure to behold, Weighs heavier than artificial gold, My cheeks, in their natural bloom, Radiate love, dispelling every gloom.

In life's paths too, a lesson for all to find, In Rosacea's dance, brought fear in mind, Originality, as held high in its purest flow, A joy in simplicity and in gentleness glow.

~ Dr Intaj Malek

Krishna Consciousness

In days of yore, poets adored with heartfelt grace, A Krishna of devotion, in verses they'd embrace, Krishna, international consciousness, they'd proclaim, Yet, did Krishna truly reign, or was it just a name?

Chanting "Hare Krishna," a practice so devout, Yet, does it capture the essence beyond doubt? Pure consciousness, finds its sweetest song, But in chanting where does practise belongs?

For Krishna, if alive, would surely ask of thee, More than lip service, in devotion let it be, Practicing Krishna consciousness, not just for show, But in deeds and thoughts, let pure submission flow.

Symbols, be they spangles or emblems of old, Do they truly represent hearts' stories untold? Practicing isn't mere adornment we bestow, It's in helping one another, in our actions, we grow.

In words and deeds, let Krishna's love define, Our actions guided by compassion's pure sign, In thoughts and actions, let kindness be our creed, That's Krishna consciousness, we all should heed.

So let's not simply chant, but with hearts aligned, To Krishna's message of love, forever intertwined, In deeds, words, and thoughts, let devotion be, A testament of pure love, for all the world to see.

~ Dr Intaj Malek

Krishna with my Jogging Journey

In the morning's tender light, I took my stride,

Embarking on a journey, with a heart open wide. From home, I ventured forth, a new path to trod, To the nearby jogging park, where my spirits soared.

A novice in this realm, exercise, my distant friend, But friends had their say, urging me to ascend. So, I rose with the sun, as the dawn was adorning, For my very first jog, on this radiant morning.

Along the path, I glimpsed two children so small, Barefoot and playful, holding sticks, standing tall. Curious, I approached, asked, "Where do you roam?" In their innocent eyes, I found a welcoming home.

They joined my journey, these kids of pure grace, As we entered the park, a serene, magical place. A swing, so inviting, stood waiting nearby, Their eyes sparkled, as they reached for the sky.

Jogging plans faded, forgotten for a while, As their laughter and joy made my heart beguile. I cradled them gently, like young Krishna divine, Two little Krishnas, in my life, they did shine.

Together we swayed, in that moment, so sweet, Their presence a blessing, a gift hard to beat. In the company of innocence, I found my way, On that marvellous morning, a joyful display.

~Dr Intaj Malek

Krishna seen from window

In a world of stillness, a moment so divine, I glimpsed a young Krishna, a sight so fine. From my window to his, our gazes did meet, A playful exchange, a connection so sweet.

His mischief, a twinkle, his smile, a delight, A tiny Krishna, bathed in heavenly light. Enticing me closer, to partake in his game, From the confines of frames, his spirit did aim.

With eager hands reaching, as if to take flight, From the photo frame to the realm of daylight. An aura of innocence, on his face did adorn, With a silver crescent, like a new moon reborn.

"Krishna," I called, with affectionate grace, As he danced in window, the heavenly space. A playful child, in this enchanting embrace, In this moment of magic, in this sacred place.

In that fleeting encounter, our souls intertwined, A connection with Krishna, forever enshrined. For in the stillness of that glowing frame, His mischievous spirit, emerged the same.

~Dr Intaj Malek