The Topper's guide for good marks

THE POEM: 1) Palem Apokpi, mother who gave birth to me, to be a man how I hated leaving home ten years ago. Now these hills have grown on me. But I’m still your painfully shy son with a ravenous appetite, the boy who lost many teeth after emptying your larder. And I am also your dreamy-eyed lad who gave you difficult times during his schooldays, romancing every girl he wanted, even when he still wore half-pants.     2) You told your children that money and time do not grow on trees, and I could never learn to keep up with them. It isn’t that I’ve forgotten what you’ve come to mean to me though I abandoned much and left so little of myself for others to remember me.     3) I know how you work your fingers to the bone as all mothers do, for unmarried sons, ageing husband and liberated daughters-in-law. Worried about us, for a long time your lips couldn’t burgeon in a smile, lines have furrowed your face and first signs of snow are on your hair.     4) Today, ...

THE POEM : It started as a pilgrimage Exalting minds and making all The burdens light, The second stage Explored but did not test the call. The sun beat down to match our rage. We stood it very well, I thought, Observed and put down copious notes On things, the peasants sold and bought The way of serpents and of goats. Three cities where a sage had taught But when the differences arose On how to cross a desert patch, We lost a friend whose stylish prose Was quite the best of all our batch. A shadow falls on us and grows. Another phase was reached when we Were twice attacked, and lost our way. A section claimed its liberty To leave the group. I tried to pray. Our leader said he smelt  the sea We noticed nothing as we went, A straggling crowd of little hope, Ignoring what the thunder meant, Deprived of common needs like soap. Some were broken, some merely bent. When, finally, we reached the place, We hardly know w...

THE POEM: 1:There is a house now far away where once                                           2: I received love……. That woman died, 3: The house withdrew into silence, snakes moved 4:Among books, I was then too young 5: To read, and my blood turned cold like the moon                                 6: How often I think of going 7: There, to peer through blind eyes of windows or 8: Just listen to the frozen air, 9: Or in wild despair, pick an armful of 10: Darkness to bring it here to lie                                                  11: Behind my bedroom door like a brooding 12: Dog…you cannot believe, darling, 13:Can you, that I lived in such a...

THE POEM: Have you ever tried meditation? Struggling hard to concentrate, and keeping your mind as blank as a whitewashed wall by closing your eyes, nose, ears; and shutting out every possible thought. Every thing. And, the only failure, that ever came, the only gross betrayal— was from your own skin. You will have known this. Do you still remember, how, the first distractions arose? And you blamed skin as a sinner; how, when your kundalini was rising, shaken, you felt the cold concrete floor skin rubbing against skin, your saffron robes, how, even in a far-off different realm— your skin anchored you to this earth. Amidst all that pervading emptiness, touch retained its sensuality. You will have known this. Or if you thought more variedly, about taste, you would discount it—as the touch of the tongue. Or, you may recollect how a gentle touch, a caress changed your life multifold, and you were never the person you should have been. Feeling with y...