The Ruskin Bond Mini Bus

by Ruskin Bond

Until death comes, all is life.

  a plea for bowlers

  Cricket never will be fair

  Till bowlers get their rightful share

  For toiling in the mid-day sun.

  What should be done?

  It's simple ——

  Make those wickets broader, taller!

  That should make it much more fun

  For the poor perspiring bowler.

  P.S. And in the interests of the game

  The size of the bat remains the same.

  butterfly time

  April showers

  Bring swarms of butterflies

  Streaming across the valley

  Seeking sweet nectar.

  Yellow, gold, and burning bright,

  Red and blue and banded white.

  To my eyes they bring delight!

  Theirs a long and arduous flight,

  Here today and off tomorrow,

  Floating on, bright butterflies,

  To distant bowers.

  For Nature does things in good order:

  And birds and butterflies recognize

  No man-made border.

  dandelion

  I think it's an insult

  To Nature's generosity

  That many call this cheerful flower

  A 'common weed'.

  How dare they so degrade

  A flower divinely made!

  Sublimely does it bloom and seed

  In sunshine or in shade,

  Thriving in wind and rain,

  On stony soil

  On walls or steps

  On strips of waste;

  Tough and resilient,

  Giving delight

  When other flowers are out of sight.

  And when its puff-ball comes to fruit

  You make a wish and blow it clean away:

  'Please make my wish come true,' you say.

  And if you're kind and pure of heart,

  Who knows? This magic flower might just respond

  And help you on your way.

  Good dandelion,

  Be mine today.

  the last flower

  If, in this dying world,

  Only one flower could be left,

  Which one would you choose?

  The rose, or some sweet violet,

  Or would you prefer the fragrant

  Mignonette?

  Of flowers not yet extinct,

  You might just settle for the Indian Pink.

  But my first choice, I like to think,

  Is the red geranium

  Standing on my desk all year,

  Far, like a scarlet chanticleer,

  It stands up tall

  And makes a statement loud and clear.

  to the indian foresters

  You are the quiet men who do not boast

  Although you've done much more than most

  To make this land a sea of green

  From here to far Cape Comorin.

  Without your help to Nature's thrust,

  This land would be a bowl of dust.

  A land without its forest wealth

  Must suffer a decline in health,

  For herbs and plants all need green cover

  Before they help the sick recover.

  And we need trees to hold together

  Beasts, and birds of every feather,

  And leaves to help the air smell sweet;

  All this and more is no mean feat.

  Dear foresters, you have not sought for fame or

  favour,

  Yours has been a love of labour.

  Our thanks! Instead of desert sand

  You've given us this green and growing land.

  _____________

  (Composed and read to a gathering of young forest officers at the Forest Research Institute, on April 10, 2004)

  night thoughts

  This mountain is my mother,

  My father is the sea,

  This river is the fountain

  Of all that life may be...

  Swift river from the mountain,

  Deep river to the sea,

  Take all my words and leave them

  Where the west wind sets them free.

  So, piper on the lonely hill,

  Play no sad songs for me;

  The day has gone, sweet night comes on,

  Its darkness helps me see.

  in this workaday world

  It's a busy world, I know,

  And we must hurry here and there

  And not ask who or why or where,

  For fear our credits fall too low.

  But here upon this hilly crest

  There's some respite; and when

  The fretting day is done,

  Beneath the cherry tree there's rest.

  love's sad song

  There's a sweet little girl lives down the lane,

  And she's so pretty and I'm so plain,

  She's clever and smart and all things good,

  And I'm the bad boy of the neighbourhood.

  But I'd be her best friend forever and a day

  If only she'd smile and look my way.

  we are the babus

  Soak the rich and harry the poor,

  That's our motto and our law;

  We are the rulers of this land,

  We are the babus, a merry band,

  Under the table, or through the back door,

  We'll empty your pockets and ask for more!

  We are the babus, this is our law—

  Soak the rich and harry the poor!

  this land is mine

  This land is mine

  Although I do not own it,

  This land is mine

  Because I grew upon it.

  This dust, this grass,

  This tender leaf

  And weathered bark

  All in my heart are finely blended

  Until my time on earth is ended.

  phantom lover

  Night unto night

  When the world's asleep,

  You come to me,

  Our tryst to keep.

  Held captive, in thrall,

  As the stars look down,

  Body and soul

  From night unto dawn.

  Silent you come

  And softly you go,

  Ours is a love

  That none must know.

  wild is tbe wind

  Wild is the wind tonight,

  Deep is the thunder,

  Lightning across the sky

  Splits it asunder.

  Witches will ride tonight,

  Ranging the sky,

  Wizards will cast their spells—

  Great men will die.

  Who'll be my guide tonight,

  Starless the sky;

  Who'll brave the demons

  Now riding so high.

  I'll take the road alone,

  I'll reach my goal;

  Witches and wizards

  Must yield to man's soul.

  slum children at play

  Imps of mischief,

  Barefoot in the dust,

  Grinning, mocking, even as

  They beg you for a crust.

  No angels these,

  Just hungry eyes

  And eager hands

  To help you sympathise...

  They don't want love,

  They don't seek pity,

  They know there's nothing

  In this heartless city

  But a kindred need

  In those who strive

  For power and pelf

  Though only just alive!

  They know your guilt,

  They'll take your money,

  And if you give too much

  They'll find you funny.

  Because that's what you are—

  You're just a joke—

  Your life is soft

  And theirs all grime and smoke.

  And yet they shout and sing

  And do not thank yo
ur giving,

  You'll fuss and fret through life

  While they do all the living.

  ________________

  (Delhi, May 1, 2004)

  do you believe in ghosts?

  'Do you believe in ghosts?'

  Asked the passenger

  On platform number three.

  'I'm a rational man,' said I,

  'I believe in what I can see—

  Your hands, your feet, your beard!'

  'Then look again,' said he,

  And promptly disappeared!

  we must love someone

  We must love someone

  If we are to justify

  Our presence on this earth.

  We must keep loving all our days,

  Someone, anyone, anywhere

  Outside our selves;

  For even the sarus crane

  Will grieve over its lost companion,

  And the seal its mate.

  Somewhere in life

  There must be someone

  To take your hand

  And share the torrid day.

  Without the touch of love

  There is no life, and we must fade away.

  the pool

  Where has it gone,

  the pool on the hill?

  The pool of our youth,

  when Time stood still,

  Where we romped in its shallows

  and wrestled on sand,

  Closer than brothers, a colourful band.

  Gone is the pool, now filled in with rocks,

  Having made way for the builders' blocks.

  But sometimes, at dawn,

  you will hear us still,

  And that's why they call this

  the Haunted Hill.

  don't go to war, my son

  Blood drying in the fierce sun

  Vultures feasting on the dead

  Mangled limbs and severed heads

  Battles lost or battles won

  Must end in madness when they're done.

  Don't go to war, my son.

  love is a law

  Who shall set a law to lovers?

  Love is a law unto itself

  Love gained is often lost

  And love that's lost is found again

  It's love that makes the world go round

  Love that keeps us closely bound

  Take this power to love away

  We would be just beasts of prey

  If Love should lose its hold on us

  Discord would rule the Universe.

  a little night music

  Open the window

  Let in the Night

  All that is lovely

  Comes at this hour

  Moonlight and moonbeam

  And fragrance of flower

  Blossoming Champa

  And Queen of the Night—

  And sometimes a field mouse

  Drops in for a bite.

  High in the tree-tops

  An owl strikes a note

  And the frogs in their pond

  Sing out as they float

  Along on their lily-pads...

  The Brain-fever bird

  Is calling on high

  'Brain fever, brain fever!'

  Its monotonous cry.

  The Nightjar plays trombone

  The crickets join in

  An out-of-tune orchestra

  Making a din!

  I lie awake listening

  To the wild duck in flight

  As they fly to the north

  For their annual respite;

  And a star in the heavens

  Sweeps past as it falls,

  A leopard's out hunting—

  The swamp deer calls.

  A breeze has spring up,

  It hums in the trees

  The window is rattling

  And I must cease

  From my Nocturne

  And shut out the Night.

  Goodnight, birds

  Goodnight, frogs

  Goodnight, stars

  Goodnight sweet Night.

  dare to dream

  Build castles in the air

  But first, give them foundations.

  Hold fast to all your dreams,

  Make perfect your creations.

  All glory comes to those who dare.

  Failed works are sad lame things.

  Act impeccably, sing

  Your own song, but do not take

  Another's song from her or him;

  Look for your art within,

  You'll find your own true gift,

  For you are special too.

  And if you try, you'll find

  There's nothing you can't do.

  the demon driver

  At driving a car I've never been good—

  I batter the bumper and damage the hood—

  'Get off the road!' the traffic cops shout,

  'You're supposed to go round that roundabout!'

  'I thought it was quicker to drive straight through.'

  'Give us your license — it's time to renew.'

  I took their advice and handed a fee

  To a Babu who looked on this windfall with glee.

  'No problem,' he said, 'Your license now pukka,

  You may drive all the way from here to Kolkata.'

  So away I drove, at a feverish pitch,

  Advancing someway down an unseen ditch.

  Once back on the highway, I soon joined the fray

  Of hundreds of drivers who wouldn't give way:

  I skimmed past a truck and revolved round a van

  (Good drivers can do anything that they can)

  Then offered a lift to a man with a load—

  'Just a little way down to the end of this road,'

  As I pressed on the pedal, the car gave a shudder:

  He'd got in at one door, got out at the other.

  'God help you!' he said, as he hurried away,

  'I'll come for a drive another fine day!'

  I came to that roundabout, round it I sped

  Eager to get to my dinner and bed.

  Round it I went, and round it once more

  'Get off the road!' That cop was a bore.

  I swung to the left and went clean through a wall,

  My neighbour stood there — he looked menacing,

  tall—

  'This will cost you three thousand,' he quietly said,

  'And send me your cheque before you're in bed!'

  Alas! my new car was sent for repair,

  But my friends gathered round and said, never despair!

  'We are all going to help you to make a fresh start.'

  And next day they gave me a nice bullock-cart.

  summer fruit

  Summer is here, and mangoes too

  And fruit of every taste and hue;

  And given a choice of juice or berry,

  I'll settle for the humble cherry.

  I know your favourite on this planet

  Is the red and rosy pomegranate;

  But that's a winter fruit, my child,

  So wait until the weather's mild.

  But if you like a simple khana,

  There's nothing like a good banana.

  No? Something more exotic?

  Maybe some lichis in your pockets.

  Or would you like a large tarbuj—

  Its sweeter than a good kharbuj—

  Tarbuj, kharbuja — oh, what's the difference?

  Tell me, children, and your preference

  the message of the flowers

  Apple Blossom

  It's Spring, and apple blossom time Stands for temptation, Give in to it!

  Bluebells

  Stand for constancy and calm.

  For troubled souls they act as balm Ring out the old, ring in the new!

  Carnation

  Ah, a woman's love comes with this

  flower.

  Cherish the moment!

  Crysanthemum

  W
hen red, it's love.

  When white, it's youth.

  When bronze, it has the ring of truth.

  Cornflower

  How delicate you are!

  Daisy

  The power of innocence.

  Daffodils

  You purify the air.

  You're' chivalry, gratitude and care.

  Eglantine

  Sweet brier-rose, the flower of poets.

  Keats called you rain-scented,

  dew-sweet.

  Forget-me-not

  Your name says it all.

  And I'll remember to remember.

  Geranium

  Especially the scarlet kind,

  They say scarlet is a sign of folly.

  In that case, you're my folly.

  Honeysuckle

  Who can resist your sweet fragrance?

  I want to be near you.

  Ivy

  You are friendship, fellowship and

  fidelity

  You stand for permanence.

  Jasmine

  Flower of perfection,

  You stand high in my affection.

  Lemon Blossom

  What made me think of you today?

  You stir up memories of love and play.

  Magnolia

  Champa, Queen of the garden

  You bring good fortune.

  Nasturtium

  How can I forget you, humble friend?

  You gladden my heart to winter's end.

  Oleander

  Red or white

  You're the poet's delight.

  Poppy

  You're my scarlet lady—

  Extravagant, effervescent, evanescent!