I Saw Santa Cry

Today I left on a Christmas trail
Steered by my wild reindeer’s tail.

I met Santa on the way
Requesting Him just for this day,
‘Let me be the new Boss
In the spirit of the old Claus’.

Gently touching my head
In a velvety tone He said:

‘Can you enjoy the pain
And make deserts rain?

Will you laugh the fear
To make droughts cheer?

If love is your child
And the world your family
If on a barren pond
You can grow white lily.

You can be Santa and much more
Even the Heaven will open thy door.’

I stood in silence as Santa cried
Did i test the good man’s pride?

Knowing His tears to be beyond any price
I wiped His cheeks and His kind eyes.

My mission had failed; i got up to leave
When Santa caught me by my sleeve

With dimple in cheeks, His lips curled
His smile was the best gift in the world

He said as He jumped with joy:
‘My delightful young boy
You have made even Santa rejoice
And have left me no other choice
When i sleep, rest or go for a toss
You can take over as Santa Claus
Yes, my job has also got fun
For now take my red gown and run’.

As I kissed and hugged Santa goodbye
My reindeer didn’t move how much i try
I patted its back and gave it a bribe
Promising a place in Santa’s Reindeer tribe.

Awaiting my turn to wear the red dress
I promise you a – ‘Merry Christmas!’

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Once Upon In My Dream…

The red engine slowly halts in the brown Desert of Infinity.

As the black bogies stopped, the engine’s whistle signals its arrival to the unpresent residents. A whirlpool of steam from the engine’s chimney-mouth jumps up to embrace the sky. Drops of rainwater hit the bogies; an Orchestra of Sounds is set into motion.

“We get down from the train – my army of ten trusted associates and an equal number of horses. We quickly take shelter under a tree.”

Suddenly, a yellowish-white light sparkles across the sky and the entire desert.

“The rain is now gone. And, so is the train. It has disappeared – our only transport in the Desert of Infinity.”

“No. I guess, I am wrong. Our horses are still with us. Silken smooth and vanilla white skins; they are our ideal companions in this journey. The destination is also not far. It stares us in the eye.”

The Bungalow of Hope – a mansion larger than any other seen in this part of the World. Its pinkish-brown walls pale in comparison to its lonely but imposing presence.

“None of us are going there now. Perhaps, I am wrong again.”

The horses gallantly rode towards the large patch of green behind the Bungalow of Hope and they too never came back.

“We waited – the eleven of us. They say that eleven has the Power of Continuity – unmatched by any other numerical combination except 22. We had to stick together for the mission….”

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