Forlorn Fate- Anjilika Upadhyaya

Yesterday I heard them say that a war is about to rage

They are getting ready for a gunfight, standing on their borders looking out for prey

Truth is that no one is going to win and only inoperable scars would remain

The lives of the innocent will be sacrificed and yet a great victory will be declared

People cried for mercy, pointing them to the heavens above to stop before it is too late to contemplate

But ignoring the loud cries, their fierce eyes only wanted to take a futile revenge

Backed by the filthy rich, those ferocious faces awaited their feast

Those untamed men had in red included everyone on their list

Their senses were attuned only to the commands of the dealers of death

And their hands unashamedly took the lives of those who begged

The recipients of the horrible news lost in thoughts, stared at the sky with a blank face

People wished farewell to their loved ones amidst the terrible haste

Some kissed their children's forehead and some cried endless tears

While others were not ready of what was awaiting them next

Unafraid and wild young boy, the pride of his people

The one sent to get a sight of the enemy troop came running and stooping

And all got anxious of what he had to say

When alas! the boy fell on the ground shot in his back

Oh! what a sign of fate

There would remain nothing except to regret shouted one of the men

But the enemy troop had only one thing on their mind

And that was destruction of those who only wanted to live

Everyone started mourning accepting their death while children did not understand a word and stared at elders’ face

As the enemy troops were approaching nearer with every wink of an eye, they felt the ground trembling beneath their feet

As if destiny was awaiting the commands of the Almighty to grant its potion of eternity to those who would win

Grim Reaper cast a gloomy shadow over them with its sudden appearance and waited for the trapped souls to get freed

Suddenly silence followed and a place once filled with lively souls

Turned into a lifeless fatal scene with thousand words still echoing for help

Nothing except mourning, nothing but a tragic end

Years and years flew by,

But the crimson abandoned land never stopped reminding about its awful end

All The Hearts From You- Yasmin Parveen

All The Hearts From You

A heart a weekend

Filling me of you and your unbridled adoration for me was the only saviour

I've had it for a whole year

To keep me breathing at all.

Your hearts made my frail heart

Swell and burst overwhelmed by your unwavering devotion to me and

The promises you made to keep.

Your hearts gave me hope

In those moments of despair

As if the mere words could take form and beat for only me to be heard.

Your hearts were all I ever anticipated like a teenage girl.

And you'd say-

" It isn't foolish, my love because it's love. "

Last heart you sent was nothing like before.

You confessed your darkest fears of all.

And I cried over your heart for a long.

You were to come the next weekend and we would tie the knot to be together, forever.

The Day came and went by but

You were not in sight.

I kept looking at the door to swing by.

But the sound never came.

Next morning I heard on the radio

My heart clenched and imploded inside.

You were gone for good last night.

You aren't here, but you are here always, in my heart.

I kept all your hearts alive - in a jar.

Never cried on you when I opened your hearts.

Because it was you who always said -

" God forbid if it ever happens but

Darling, I want you to smile whenever you remember and think of me.

Becuase I couldn't bear that the tears in yout beautiful eyes were the result of my demise. "

They say we were tragic and I deny.

For all the hearts from you were always mine.

Mine.

Mine.

And forever and ever mine.

MORIBUND- Poonam Shukla

MORIBUND

Wrinkle Wrinkle little scar

Life ain’t melody, it’s a jar

I always yell, I almost cry

It seems to me that the end is nigh

This is my life. An ocean of woes

Only and only pricks not a single rose

Sadness to drink and sadness to dine

Not a single soul, whom I can call mine

I m just a creature who wants to evolve

In search of a substance in which woes can dissolve

My past isn’t black; it’s a big black hole

Killing me very slowly soon will suck my soul

The despair inside me has so outgrown

The only expense I could think is my own gravestone.

With everything to hide and nothing to pride

I am almost set for my last final ride.

We met and parted ways- Tanuja

We met and parted ways,

may be to meet once more one day.

In some other time and age,

maybe a different place.

Where the blooms will breathe deep,

or they may just crumple and go to sleep.

Or where the sun will wrinkle and freeze,

In the harsh winter breeze.

We met and parted ways,

may be to meet once more one day.

When the day may get some respite,

from its supersonic jet set life.

And when the time will take a pause,

and decide to sprawl on the green grass,

gazing upward at the night,

counting the stars in the sky.

We met and parted ways,

may be to meet once more one day.

it may just be one of our days,

with all the chaos that comes it’s way.

We may meet on that one day,

to bid au revoir once again..

चोरी - Sonu Yashraj

*चोरी*

म्यूजियम, बैंक या किसी शानदार पार्टी से

कड़ी सुरक्षा के बीच

हीरा चोरी की रोमांचक खबर

हर कोई सुनता है ठिठक कर

हर कालखण्ड में धूम

मची रहती है ऐसी फिल्मों की।

पर मैं चाहती हूँ

दुनिया की तमाम लाइब्रेरियों से

चोरी हों किताबें ।

गली के शोहदों के कारण

नही जा पा रही

शाम की लाइब्रेरी में

मंजुला, नीमा, अरुणिमा

चोरी की गयी कुछ किताबें

भिजवा दी जाएं उनके घर

ताकि उनका घर बन जाए दुनिया।

कुछ किताबें अनाथालयों,

वृद्धाश्रमों की चौखट पर भी

छोड़ दी जाएं चुपचाप ,

ताकि वहाँ बीसियों बार पढ़ी गयी

जर्जर किताबें मुक्ति पा सकें।

कुछ किताबें भिजवा दी जाएं

जेल के भीतर

ताकि सजायाफ्ता कैदी सोच सकें

इतनी भी बुरी नही है ये दुनिया।

कुछ किताबें गाँवों की

स्कूल लाइब्रेरियों में भिजवाई जाएं

आप जानते ही हैं

उन्हें जगह भी आवंटित है और रैक भी।

कुछ किताबों को पहाड़ ,खेत में भी

छितरा देना चाहिए

गडरिये के किस्से खत्म होने को हैं

और खेतों की मुंडेर पर बैठे

बच्चों की टोली को चाहिए

अपने सपनों के लिए कोई नई कहानी।

कुछ किताबें उस दर पर क्यों न पहुंचे

जहाँ आते हैं सिर्फ रूप के ग्राहक।

कुछ किताबों को ठेले पर,

गलियों में ले जाकर देनी चाहिए हाँक

ताकि लोग जान- मान सकें

किताब को रोजमर्रा की

सबसे ज़रूरी चीज।

ये हीरे जैसी किताबें कब तक प्रतीक्षा करेंगी

लाइब्रेरियों में हमारी

इनके पास पंख हैं

इन्हें उड़ कर जाना चाहिए हर जगह ।

©सोनू यशराज

COMFORT IN GRIEF- SRUTHY MANOJ

In grief there is comfort

A sweet sadness

Enclosing me in a tight embrace

A momentary moment where I can let go

And feel me freely

Consoling me,

It whispers in my ears

Accept the unacceptable reality

The world is harsh

Find the love buried behind that pain

In the rain there is rhythm

A melody sharing my melancholy

Imparting a sense of belonging

In the darkness there is peace

Both temporary yet forever remaining

In grief there is comfort

Remnants of lost loves

Promising me the world

that once used to be mine

Giving me the closure that no one gave

सभी नाम कमाते हैं- Milind Gupta

आजकल के इस दौर में सभी नाम कमाते हैं...

पैसा,गाड़ी,ताक़त यह सबके मन को भाते हैं...

बड़ा रुतबा, शानों-शौकत सबके दिल को लुभाते हैं...

जिंदगी के हर मुकाम पर खुद को ही सबसे बड़ा दिखलाना चाहते हैं...

कामयाबी की हर पराकाष्ठा पर अपना ही नाम लिखवाना चाहते हैं...

अपने अरमानों को पाने के लिए सभी नीतियां अपनाते हैं...

आजकल के इस दौर में सभी नाम कमाते हैं...

आजकल के इस दौर में सभी नाम कमाते हैं...

पर मैं इन सभी चीजों को दिल से धुत्कारता हूं...

ना पैसा,ना गाड़ी,ना ताकत खुदा से मैं कुछ नहीं मांगता हूं...

ना सबसे बड़ा होने का ख्वाब अपने ज़ेहन में लाता हूं...

मैं जिंदगी में कोई भी कामयाबी पाने से पहले अपनी कुछ ऐसी पहचान बनाना चाहता हूं...

खुद के अरमान पूरे करने से पहले अपने माता-पिता को उनके, हर अधूरे ख्वाब पूरा करते देखना चाहता हूं...

मैं जिंदगी में नाम कमाने से पहले अच्छा इंसान बनना चाहता हूं...

मैं जिंदगी में नाम कमाने से पहले अच्छा इंसान बनना चाहता हूं...

Twisted- Ritika Babu

Hey, hello..he said

Going back through the pages..

Staircase, stride, smitten, scared,

He was stan-din there in the middle of walls,

In the shades white clouds..

Feel the eyes, the heartbeat, the warmth

It started off from there..

There he is,

Longing, lust, limerence, love

Holding back for a decade..

oye!!, i'm sorry,

a mistake made it soo long..

Yess i accept, I say,

Stan-din in front of the crowd, looking at him.

Promises, proposal, patience, pain,

Our eyes holding millions of emotions,

But a smile all through these years.

Here we are in the last few pages,

Seeing the deepest shades of grey,

Two hearts beating in a rhythm,

Remembering the day;

Hey, hello..he said

Patriarch- V Akshai Kumar

Looking at him stumble, asking for help to keep his next foot right,

He was never the man who would run away from a fight.

Watching him steep so low and being a part of his fall,

Has made us all weak , tired and insecure,

Yet we walk with our heads up and tall.

Death, separation and guilt has surrounded us like the clouds

that swallow the light of the burning sun,

Pain and sorrow has knocked on our door again,

This is when we all have to be one.

Life hasn’t been the way we imagined it to be this year,

However the ship must cross the tides ,

and the captain should show no fear.

Being the head of a family is no easy job,

You’ll have to run , you’ll have to earn , you’ll have to take hits and despite all this you won’t have time to sob.

I’m proud of what he does for the family and I’m proud that I’m his son,

But sometimes I feel exhausted and my mind tells me to run.

I have no shame in saying this that I feel weak and tired,

Well life is about fighting but if its only about fighting , then that becomes weird.

Hope is the only alarm that wakes us up every morning ,

Yes we still believe our days would get better and that it would stop raining.

Life hasn’t been the way we imagined it to be this year,

However the war must be won , and the king should show no fear.

Aching- SHOUVIK SARKAR

How long you have been gone

i don’t know.

For you were just here

laying by my side.

The cold breath of loneliness

emanating from you

and touching me.

Never felt this way before.

Should I share my warmth with you ?

Let me see the fire burning inside.

Just a peek,

I promise.

Why are we like this ?

Two strangers sitting together

uttering no words but yet talking.

Now you avoid me

like am some chronic disease

forsaken by all faces.

It hurts to even speak

thinking of the times we were together

for i thought you were mine to keep

Then you slammed the door to my heart

leaving a hole as big as your sorrow.

Aphasic Ink- Jigyasa Lakhotra

I'm questioned more often

Than I'm greeted.

Their curious jabber taunts my silence

and desperate eyes scope me out for answers

To 'why i don't write anymore?'

I pity my pen and tell them-

my nib has worn itself out,

Mimicking a broken record

Spilling, spattering, splodging

Over and over.

Stains and sentences alike.

The same longevous pattern

Of rubbing itself against the paper,

Like sainty fingers counting the beads of a rosary.

It has grown sick

Of collating and twaddling the same depressive vocables

Scattered at the hem of my tongue

Like mud on a freshly dug grave.

And amounting them to a literary paragon

And so called poetic sagas

Or simply paroxyms of loneliness

Casted into moulds of poetry.

I tell them that my pen often curses its longevity

When it structures loads of self loathing poems

Each piece akin to other

Which is a task next to Satan's.

It is tired of penning down the irony

Of every single breathe, that chokes me out before leaving my body

And every lively word that falls off from my lifeless lips.

They said, paper has patience

But I tell that I'm running out of ink

That doesn't want to take the shape of my sorrows.

I tell them that writing for me, is a battle

and I can't write

Until my weapons want a war.

കച്ചവടം- Rosmin Pynadath

കച്ചവടം

-----------

പുസ്തകജീവിതത്തിൻ ഏടോന്നുകീറി;

പുറംലോകം കാണുവാനെത്തിയ ശലഭം.

ഹൃദിസ്ഥമാക്കി പ്രബന്ധങ്ങൾ, വ്യാഖ്യാനങ്ങൾ;

ഹൃദയമൊരുക്കി പുതുലോകം പുൽകുവാൻ.

പണം, പണമിടപാടുകൾ, കച്ചവടം;

പഠിച്ചതൊക്കെയും പ്രാവർത്തികമാക്കുവാൻ.

അൻപതുപൈസയ്ക്കു ലഭിക്കുമുണ്ണിയ്ക്ക്

മധുരം നുണയാനായി മിഠായി.

പത്തിനു കിട്ടും വലിച്ചു പുകയാകുവാൻ,

അൻപതിനു വിശപ്പിനു ശമനം തട്ടുകടയിൽ.

നൂറിനു ചാരായം നാട്ടിൻ പുറത്ത്;

ആയിരത്തിനു മുന്തിയ കിറുങ്ങൽ പട്ടണത്തിൽ .

കണ്ടു വമ്പൻ കമ്പോളങ്ങൾ, ചരക്കുകൾ;

കൊടുത്ത കാശിനു മാറ്റപ്പെടും ഉടമസ്ഥം.

ഗാന്ധിയെ നൽകും കറൻസി കടലാസിൽ

നേടാനാകും സർവ്വം സുനിശ്ചയം.

കണ്ടു എങ്ങും കമ്പോളങ്ങൾ, ചരക്കുകൾ ;

കൊടുത്ത കാശിനു കൃത്രിമ ഉടമസ്ഥം.

ലഭ്യമിന്ന്; അധികാര പത്രങ്ങൾ, സാക്ഷികൾ ;

ഇല്ലാത്ത മികവ് നൽകും സർട്ടിഫിക്കറ്റുകൾ.

നേടാത്ത യോഗ്യതകൾ, പദവികൾ;

പണിയാതെ തേടിയെത്തിയ പണപൊതികൾ,

അനങ്ങാതെ നേടിയ ഉടവസ്ഥാവകാശങ്ങൾ.

മൂന്നാമനറിയാതെ; അറിയുന്ന ഗാന്ധിമാത്രം.

ജീവൻ വയ്ക്കുന്നിതാ പിണം റിപ്പോർട്ടുകളിൽ;

മികവിൽ ശൂന്യരിന്നിതാ നേടുന്നു ഉദ്യോഗം.

പൂട്ടേണ്ട കടകളിന്ന് ശോഭിതം ദിനരാത്രം,

പുസ്തകമറിയാത്തവനിന്ന് നേടും റാങ്കുകൾ .

കിട്ടുമിന്ന് പത്തരമാറ്റിൻ നാട്യസ്നേഹം;

കിട്ടുമിന്ന് പങ്കാളിയെ ലേലം വിളിച്ച് .

പെണ്ണിൽ മാറ്റ് നിർണ്ണയിക്കപ്പെടുന്നിപ്പോഴിതാ ;

പൊന്നിൽ ആഢ്യത്തിൽ ;പണക്കെട്ടിൻ കനത്തിൽ .

അവളുടെ ഭാവി നിർണ്ണയിക്കപ്പെടുന്നിപ്പോഴിതാ ;

അവളെയിന്നലെ കണ്ടു ബോധിച്ചവരാൽ .

നിനക്കു പറക്കാം; ഞാനൊരുക്കിയ മുറിയിൽ ;

ഞാൻ പറയും , നീയതനുസരിക്കും.

അറിഞ്ഞതില്ലിവൾ കാലം കരുതിയ കുരുക്ക്,

ആരാരും ചൊല്ലിയില്ലിത് ഇരുണ്ട ഗാന്ധി ചിത്രം .

അറിഞ്ഞതൊന്നു മാത്രം; നേടുവാൻ കൊതിച്ചതും;

കാലാവധിത്തീർന്നു പഴകിയ നിർമലസ്നേഹം.

പണം ദ്രവിപ്പിച്ച ബന്ധങ്ങൾ ബന്ധനങ്ങളായി-

കേഴുന്നീ പൈങ്കിളി ദാഹനീരിനായ്...

Let the leaves fall where they may | Akansha Jadhav

I tried catching a falling leaf,

from an autumn tree.

Swayed by the gentle winds,

floating in unpredictable directions.

I persevered to catch it,

before it touched the soil,

as I followed it's undulating motion.

Every second of my endeavour,

fraught with the fear of missing it.

The leaf,

tricked me,

in it's own whimsical manner,

by finally submitting itself,

to the brook.

Smirking at me,

for my failed attempt,

as it floated away,

filled with pride,

for its successful attempt,

on teaching me,

to stop chasing,

and letting things go.

The Problem of Pronoun- Tenzing Rapgyal

The Problem of Pronoun

The doctor called me in

To show you on a small screen

Of an expensive machine in a congested room.

You were throbbing with life,

But I could not find you

Because you were hiding in the cloudy image.

Your mother was in the corner

On the bed with her big bared bulging belly.

A curious smile spread on her anxious face.

The doctor sensing my shock or suspecting me,

Hurriedly pointed at your big egg shaped head,

And the small curling spine.

The cardiogram frisked up and down

With the loud noise of your pounding heart.

Did you sense my perplexed presence?

When we talk about you,

Your mother addresses you as ‘he’ in Tibetan;

But we don’t know actually.

It is illegal in India for us

To determine the right pronoun to address you

Till you expose yourself to the wicked world.

Till then due to the language deficiency,

We have to be conscious of the gender case,

But we will not administer ‘it’ while referring to you.

I Survive on my Nebulae | Mukul Kumar

The dying star has exploded,

The Nebula, again;

The reign of chaos,

Living is a labour,

An unarmed battle,

The annihilation is yawning;

The déjà vu.

Last time the nebula had

Given birth to a star,

Death mothered life,

A luminous marvel,

A wondrous paradox.

I witness the birth of death,

As life refuses to breath its last

afore the picture of stellar nursery

I wish to be where I am not

The cheerful quiver of the

Twig the bird has just left,

A soothing surge raised from

A seething stillness within;

The sonorous resonance.

I am where I am not, the

Spirit on a spirited voyage

Searching the uncertain

Destination of the bird.

I wish to dwell where I don’t,

I wish to continue being

Where I am not.

***

My Journey | Paramita Beck

My journey is too long,

Filled with emotions and boredom,

Who would like to read,

If it’s not filled with enthusiasm,

Every journey is not same,

How can I explain?

I rose at the peak of a mountain;

Only to realise it’s a tip of my aim;

It all started with pain.

When I first saw the light of this birth taking place,

The next moment,

I felt the touch of warming fingers in my nail.

I smiled by seeing her face,

She is my Mother to tell,

I walk and fell,

She holded me well,

I danced in the rain,

She brought umbrella in vain,

I enjoyed muddy puddle,

She washed my face with colours of rain.

I started my journey to the school.

Holding my bag and boots,

Completed all my lessons,

By seeing smile on her face,

I grow up like a tall tree,

Waiting to withstand every storm,

One autumn two autumn

Seeing me climbing the mountain,

But its only tip of my aim.

There is endless journey which happen,

Some in mountain other in desert lane,

In desert there is tiny sand,

In mountain a big rock,

All I can hold is none,

Both become hot in my hand,

When sunshine falls on my palm,

Its washed away by the raining drops.

To mix with the soil blocks,

I can hold none,

I can’t catch none,

Let’s us be free,

O dearer thee,

I have covered long journey.

With fear and fearlessly.

Two became my part.

When I tried to be apart.

There is still long path.

Some is circle other is flat.

One is smooth and other is rough,

But I cherished to be its part.

In this life so far.

My journey is still going.

My train is waiting in the station;

To give the green signal.

Here I came;

To hold you again,

Let’s the new journey begin…..

ಕಾಡುಮಲ್ಲಿಗೆ | Indira Lokesh

ಕವನದ ಶೀರ್ಷಿಕೆ : ಕಾಡುಮಲ್ಲಿಗೆ

ಕಾಡು ಮಲ್ಲಿಗೆ ನಾನು

ನಾಡಿಗ್ ಹ್ಯಾಂಗ್ ಬರಲಿ

ಬರಲೊಲ್ಲೇ ನಾ

ಕಾಡು ಬಂಧವ ತೊರೆದು

ನಾಡಿಗರ ಹಂಗಿನೊಳಗೆ //1//

ಸುರಗಿ,ಸಂಪಿಗೆ, ಸೇವಂತಿಗೆಯರ

ಒಲವಿನಕ್ಕರೆಯ ತೊರೆದು

ಕೇದಿಗೆ,ಮರುಗ,ಪಚ್ಚೆಯರ

ವಾತ್ಸಲ ಬಂಧವ ತೊರೆದು

ಬರಲೊಲ್ಲೇ ನಾ

ಕಾಡು ಬಂಧವ ತೊರೆದು

ನಾಡಿಗರ ಹಂಗಿನೊಳಗೆ//2//

ಸುಗಂಧರಾಜನ ಪ್ರೀತಿಯ

ಸುಗಂಧ ಬಂಧವ ತೊರೆದು

ಸೂರ್ಯಕಾಂತಿಯ

ಸ್ನೇಹ ಬಂಧವ ತೊರೆದು

ತಾವರೆ, ನೈದಿಲೆಯರ

ಬೆಳದಿಂಗಳ ತಂಪ ತೊರೆದು

ಬರಲ್ಲೊಲ್ಲೇ ನಾ

ಕಾಡು ಬಂಧವ ತೊರೆದು

ನಾಡಿಗರ ಹಂಗಿನೊಳಗೆ//3//

ನಗರ ದೇವರ ಮುಡಿ

ಏರುವಾಸೆ ಎನಗಿಲ್ಲ

ಕಾಡು ಮಲ್ಲಯ್ಯನ

ಪಾದವೇ ಸಾಕೆನಗೆ

ಮುಡಿಯ ಬಂಧದ

ಗೊಡವೆ ಬೇಡೆನಗೆ

ಬರಲೊಲ್ಲೇ ನಾ

ಕಾಡು ಬಂಧವ ತೊರೆದು

ನಾಡಿಗರ ಹಂಗಿನೊಳಗೆ//4//

ಹೊಂಗೆಯಾಸರೆ ಸಾಕೆನಗೆ

ಹಂಗಿನರಮನೆ ಬೇಡೆನಗೆ

ಹಂಗತೊರೆವಾಸೆ ಎನಗೆ

ಬರಲೊಲ್ಲೇ ನಾ

ಕಾಡು ಬಂಧವ ತೊರೆದು

ನಾಡಿಗರ ಹಂಗಿನೊಳಗೆ//5//

Yaar da booha (ਯਾਰ ਦਾ ਬੂਹਾ)- Harpuneet Singh Gill

ਚਾਲ ਮੇਰੀ ਸਿੱਧੀ ਮੰਜਿਲ ਵੱਲ ਹੈ

ਤੂੰ ਅਧਵਾਟੇ ਰੁੱਕਦਾ ਫਿਰਦਾ ਏ

ਮੈਂ ਸਾਰੇ ਕੌਲ ਨੇ ਤੋੜ ਚੜ੍ਹਾਏ

ਤੂੰ ਅਜੇ ਕਸਮਾਂ ਚੁੱਕਦਾ ਫਿਰਦਾ ਏ

ਮੈਂ ਖਿਜ਼ਾ ਚ ਵੀ ਨਾ ਪੱਤੇ ਕੇਰੇ

ਤੂੰ ਬਹਾਰਾਂ ਚ ਸੁੱਕਦਾ ਫਿਰਦਾ ਏ

ਮੈਂ ਤਕਦੀਰ ਨਾਲ ਅੜ ਲਾ ਕੇ ਰੱਖੀ

ਤੂੰ ਸਾਲਮ ਮੁੱਕਦਾ ਫਿਰਦਾ ਏ

ਮੈਂ ਸੱਜਣਾਂ ਬਾਝ ਨਾ ਕਿਸੇ ਵੱਲ ਗਈਆਂ

ਤੂੰ ਗੈਰਾਂ ਵੱਲ ਢੁੱਕਦਾ ਫਿਰਦਾ ਏ

ਮੇਰਾ ਮੱਕਾ ਸੋਹਣੇ ਯਾਰ ਦਾ ਬੂਹਾ

ਤੂੰ ਐਵੇਂ ਥਾਂ ਥਾਂ ਝੁੱਕਦਾ ਫਿਰਦਾ ਏ

TEESTA AND THE ANTHROPOCENE- Rahul Pradhan

He,

Who is a flimflamm and a part-time fisherman,

Is slowly approaching, giggling in his mother tongue,

Exchanging salutations and murmurs to the other assembly of men.

On the banks of Teesta, he rolls his jeans around his knee,

and thrusts his fishing rod, in the sand,

like a coup, recently claimed.

Beside him,

A pandit is chanting incantations to a possible Hindu god,

cautioning the bald son of the dead,

not to over-sprinkle the precious Ganga Jal.

on the stale cranium of his Mother.

A herd of middle-aged woman

are half drenched in the river, worshipping the Sun-God,

(with a bouquet of artificial flowers)

wet and almost naked, tittering and pouring saffron vermilion,

on each-others forehead.

An old rag-picker who passes by, surveils the leftovers and their bodies.

It is noon,

A time for lunch in ordinary homes.

Water unhurriedly rises,

It is the dam(n).

Meanwhile,

the fisherman announces, " I've caught something of a fish"

Some teenage girls (advocates of the fish rights),

who are strolling by the bank,

with a tall monk, gets concerned.

One of them looks into her purse, and says,

" Here! Take the money and let it live."

He, lets it.

And later in the evening,

He's a little drunk on ethanol,

and is still-fishing, singing “Resham-fi-ri-ri”

to a Honeymoon couple from Calcutta.

To her first and only son | Sarita Shubhadarshini

How lovingly those soft hands used to cradle the saddle for days,

You were the finest blessing, like blissful sun rays.

While she had you she had the brightest smile,

She gave you her whole world, could run millions of mile.

You have become her cause and her totem.

You are the muse of her mournful mayhem.

You disappear like a rainbow in a sky, brief but tender.

You were the exact embodiment of her splendour.

Her tall fingers, her shadow, it was you all,

And while in the night, she sleeps at all.

She sings to you lofty lullabies

With shivering voice and lustrous eyes.

She calls your name, while caressing

your cloth!

Why can’t she cease to love you, our azoth?

As you were part of her for 9 joyous months, a dream come true!

She built hope, to name you, to play with you and to scold you,

She practiced all the playful ploys,

She bought for your tiny hand a trove of toys.

And now all the aspirations lie cold,

Yet you never called her Ma, Bud!

With you gone, she visits you in

dreams,

Plays with you for ample times and screams.

But she wakes up calling you, and you don’t listen for sure.

Does she not know that you don’t live anymore ?