Watchman - A Care Taker

A brave man with that long stick

Nothing less than a magic wand,

Silently, softly moving around

Ensuring, there is no sound,

Under the nature’s black blanket

Along with the hands of a clock, aptly set

With no fans, No rain coats, either

Seasons change, no change in his Duty hour,

Up the lanes he goes

Down the lanes he goes.

Knocking at this door,

Knocking at that door

From one corner to the other

Of his own security, quite unaware

For those bucks, quite petty

Keeping his moral, quite gritty

Up the lanes, he goes

Down the lanes, he goes.

From a Tower, a mild scream

Of a child is heard,

“Oh Mom! I am quite afraid,

Somebody is out over there.”

The matured hands touch the tiny soul,

Adding few words, as he rolls,

“Oh my child! Don’t be afraid,

As he is the one who is paid

For your security and our’s as well,

To perform his duty, knock the door, he shall;

Hence, up the lanes he goes

Down the lanes he goes.

In a thatched smoky hut, least sound

Damped lanes around

With no walls, no boundaries,

Barren, the territories,

A mild scream of a child is heard,

“Oh Mom! Give me some bread,

As I am hungry, but not scared.

The shivered body leaned a bit,

Added few words, removing a bucket,

“Oh my darling child! Least have I to serve,

Finished are our whole reserve.

Look! the night will be over in hours, couple

The morning rays will come with hopes, double,

For us a new day, a new month

However, needs like a mammoth,

But for sure, the food to you, I will serve,

Just keep intact, your nerve

For our needs only, your father

Nights after nights, a little farther,

Up the lanes he goes

Down the lanes he goes.”

Whatever we plan, Nature plans far ahead

Beyond our mind, not easy to comprehend...