Sunday, August 22, 2010

To Manojit Bhattacharya, with love

Muse, O Muse, hearken and lend me thy strongest wings!
As I set out his glorious 'n' kindly life to sing.
Not ornery, nor small, but a heaven-invading stature is his,
Over-n-high his nature soars like the planes of his office.
Joyfully he bore the sharp smites of life
In the tender ages before he took to a wife.
Took care of his brother as a tiger its cub,
Bravely shielding him from every blow and snub.
Halcyon days came dancing and blessed him a scion,
A father's love and a mother's care has now made him a lion.
Treading over far lands and away from home's cover
Tirelessly working he trots the globe over.
As life's bright sun crossed the high noon
Computer cometh to the pater as a boon;
Held and holed up near machine and its traps:
Adobe Photoshop and all the killer apps!
Reveller of life, and yet through it all
Yearns for the Spirit and strains for its call;
And this ends the acrostic - my one gambol.

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