दिल की बात | Sumit Prasad

शाम-ए-ग़म को शाम-ए-ग़म क्यों

रात क्यों नहीं बोलते

मोहब्बत में पड़े लड़के को बर्बाद क्यों

आबाद क्यों नहीं बोलते

प्यार की बातों को लंबी घाट क्यों नहीं बोलते

रोने की सिसकियों को दिल की बात क्यों नहीं बोलते

कितनी दफ़ा पूछोगे पानी

अब इस ग्लास में शराब क्यों नहीं घोलते

पुरानी तस्वीर को देख कर मुस्कराने को

हवाई मुलाक़ात क्यों नहीं बोलते

सूरज और चांद की चुप्पी को

मुज़ाकरात क्यों नहीं बोलते

परिवार की ढूंढी लड़की को पत्नी क्यों

इंतिख़ाब क्यों नहीं बोलते

और मोहब्बत के इज़हार को मोहब्बत की शुरुआत क्यों

अज़ाब क्यों नहीं बोलते

Paint My Soul | Aman Sharma

From head to toe, count the drops

Of paint that’s needed,to colour this corpse

Hold thy brush, dip it in the deepest of colour

Convert my flesh to bright from duller

Oh my love! Fill your bucket of paint

See me naked, make me vibrant

The saree once unfolded by a cruel stranger

Paint it back, pull me out of that danger

Draw a blouse for my breast, and a fabric of yards nine

Throw colours on this living canvas and I shall just be fine

Drop the brushes, use thy Godly fingers

To feel that touch, my dead soul lingers

Now hold my foot, make an anklet for them

Rubies for neck, for wrist pearls and gem

Then my sweetheart, give blush to my cheek

Brush away those tears, don’t let me look weak

So shall you see my love, a corpse becoming alive

Paint my soul, sprinkle it with life

And at the end, my magician, kiss those lotus lips

Watch how, into a dead body, life slowly drips…

The Strength of Women | Priyal Gupta

A Mother , A Daughter , A wife

Portray many roles in one life

Cherish her family like a child

With a smile and a style

Never tell you how much it's painful

While she carries the scent of an Angel

She makes everyone complete

Have the haven underneath her feet

A woman teach what is unconditional love

Symbolize peace like a dove

After doing everything, she's fine, she pretends

But ignoring her is a new trend

Nobody cares what she requires

Never ask what are her desires

For her child her lap is a cusion

Keep the family happy is her only mission

God is present on earth in a woman's figure

Don't underestimate a woman's vigor

Just imagine a world without a woman

I am afraid if it's about to happen

Her Quill | Yaiphabi Ashem

The waves keep on crashing wildly,

Swirling her cell with dryness.

The greens and blues of her Universe are descending;

Blankness has discovered her hunger;

The Forest of shrieks feed on her ears.

Her heart is a stage for the thorns;

The glooms are applauding their dances.

With every breath, she is bleeding.

The wounds are soaring higher and higher. The aches collapse with the fluttering.

A quill reaches her swiftly.

The ink overflow her hollowness.

The leaves are dancing joyously.

The branches of her quill live on forever.

Her trees illuminate the Universe;

Strengthening the souls of lonely stars.

Grammar of Life | Prapti Vaidya

If life happens,

Know your grammar well

When life spins the wheel

Play this punctuation spell

Fit this in your mind

And learn the language rule

Figure out your own dictionary

Discover your own grammar tool

Know when to use the commas

Aftermath, when to be continued

There's always an exclamation point

When urged to be discontinued

Don't you ever fear closure

For, there's always a Semi-colon

Important is the use of apostrophe

For mistakes are hardly swollen

Recognize your ideas, worth hyphen

And don't ever let your dreams die

If you lose your way confused

Put your emotions in brackets to sly

Mark all your doubts with questions

That sums in place of self-worth

When everything's on the verge

Punctuations will sail in rebirth

Don't rely on their quote

Make your sentence a quotation

Learn this grammar of life

Before the period of causation.

My Dark World | Palak Mahajan

Look at my FEET,

Spurting blood, Cut by the thorns, no one can treat.

Glance at my KNEES,

Beleaguered with endless stone pelting; they look like a disease.

Behold my HAND(S),

Tied in the shackles of ignominy; anything and everything, they fail to withstand.

Peer into my SHOULDER(S),

Burdened with the baggage of regret; carrying this massive heaviness has made them eons older.

Feel my HEART,

Fraught with unfathomable pain, from him – estranged happiness lives oceans apart.

Stare into my EYES,

Embraced by these shadows*; they will recite about the sleep they missed engulfed by silent cries.

Listen to my BRAIN,

Numb with sheer hopelessness; he has no desire to live again.

Imagine my SOUL,

Every inch of her is burning with remorse; night after day – she is sinking into a black hole.

Wander into my FOREST,

So dense, those possibilities are hard to FIND,

Gaze at my SKY,

So dreary and bleak; this enormous darkness can make you BLIND.

Note: Each body part has been personified; hence I have used he/she/they/them for description.

- Shadows = Dark Circles

एक इंसान जिस्से हम है अंजान | Tanushka Kadu

जो फटी कमीज में सोता है वो पिता होता है,

जो सोते हुए चिंताओका दरवाज़ा खटखटाता है वो पिता होता है,

जो अपनी इच्छा मार कर परिवार की इच्छाएं पूरी करता है वो पिता होता है,

जो एक टुकडे का दो बाटकार खाता है वो पिता होता है,

जो समंदर जैसे पानी में अपने बच्चों को उतरने का हौंसला देता है वो पिता होता है,

जो दर-दर पैसे के लिए भटकता है वो पिता होता है,

कुछ न मिले पर भी हस देता है,

और कुछ मिले तो बांट देता है,

ख़ुशियाँ और गम अपनी कमीज़ में निचोड़ देता है वो पिता होता है,

जो तुम्हारी ख्वाहिशें पूरी करने के लिए दुनिया की गलियां खाता है वो पिता होता है,

जो जीते जी आपने ख्वाबों का गला घोंटकर तुम्हें उड़ानें का हौसला देता है वो पिता होता है,

जो हर चिंता को दिमाग में धोकर तुम्हारी हंसी देखना चाहता है वो पिता होता है,

जो तुम्हें गले लगाकार रोने का ख़्वाब देखता है वो पिता होता है,

दुनिया भले ही उसके इन सारे कामों से अंजन हो पर जो दिल और दिमाग़ से काम लेता है वो पिता होता है!!

nostalgia and forgetfulness | Deepali Chawla

i sometimes forget about you

it's eerie

because i do remember the many sleepless nights

sitting on the floor of my living room

looking at the city lights and soaking it all in

right after that 3 am phone call

when, i guess, we both knew it'd be our last

or maybe it was just me

it's hard to believe i sometimes forget about you

other times i think about the pieces of you i still carry in me

and i can't help but wonder

if you still carry the little pieces of me

it's eerie yet again

because you mentioned how you shadow some of my tiny habits

on that last night at 3 am

when it was so hard to put the phone down

5, Southern Avenue | Sreejita Basu

The address of my childhood

Smelt of dust.

As the Calcutta of the nineties whizzed by,

It left its mark on our bulky sofa sets,

The acquired knick-knacks called 'showpieces'

And the mustard oil soaked skin

Of my five-year-old self.

The address of my childhood smelt of bougainvillea;

The papery purple devoid of any fragrance.

But I still believed otherwise

As I tucked them safe between my '50 Favourite Fairy Tales'.

The address of my childhood smelt of sunlight

Seeping in through ventilators where sparrows resided

Coming out from time to time

To disturb the semblance of the whirring ceiling fans

Working hard to dissipate the humid Calcutta noon.

The address of my childhood

Smelt of Thakuma's pujo paraphernalia

The subtle dominance of the incense and the dhuno

Overwhelming the household

And the smell of my mother's talcum powder,

Calamine lotion and laughter.

The address of my childhood

Smelt of Baba's laboured ambition.

We had to move on.

The smell of desolation

Now mixed with the dust

We did not bother with anymore.

The Voice of the Sea | Abhroneel Ghosh

The salty spray seems always to only sting,

As the sea flicks it toward me, ever so persistent,

But not a sting of hostility, or that of cruelty,

More a cordial touch scathed by pasts unpleasant.

With seething white foam it greets all newcomers,

Yet if you venture deep enough it goes utterly silent,

The same steady waves more gentle, less assertive,

Yet always remaining unwaveringly patient.

Always sweeping in and drawing back out again,

As it follows a beating heart not unlike our own,

A sombre unpredictability to its many patterns,

A being as truly powerful as it is truly alone.

A soul of as much wisdom as its infinite horizons,

As its wavelets lap past my feet on a moonlit shore,

It shares its plights, and time-borne sagacity,

And my very own burden seems to lighten just a little more.

Chance or Choice | Sandeep Kumar Yadav

They say that I was born here by chance,

They say it's impossible for me to take a stance;

Menial is my clan so is my future,

If I try and be something it's against nature.

It the fate which determines each moment and deed,

None could break this periphery no one could exceed;

Sun shall never be cold and trees can never fly,

Mountains cannot walk and oceans never dry.

Light can never be dark an' darkness cannot shine,

What I'm not destined for it can never be mine.

Wait wait for a moment,let us heed again:

Whether there is a process or by itself falls rain?

Out of hundred million sperms it was I who came,

Fitness is an issue but it wasn't a simple game.

Salty vapour of the sea gives us sweet water,

He who often dreams of a son always gets daughter;

This is by chance he who says don't you think is fool?

Process has to have a processor, every machine a tool.

Mountains cannot walk,for they have chosen to guard;

Oceans never dry because they signed a pact with God,

If trees could fly then where would birds, sit and sing and rest?

This whole world would freeze enough if sun gets cold lest.

Neither bard's (William Shakespeare) father was a poet nor Kant's dad a philosopher,

I pity Socrates was sculptor, if clan is what you much ponder.

Choice is what freewill extends its pious hands to us,

He who strives to know his role wins His heart thus;

Choice is what we need to make not depending on our strength,

Strength is what He keeps giving to one who choses better length.

Choice is what we need to make the final goal of life,

It is to please who gave us breath to help Him in His strife;

Choice is what makes us lively and adds real flavour,

A clean conscience never ever expects any favour.

Evolution is a fantasy a fiction to be cherished,

Creation is a reality and choice to be relished;

Chance is always favoured by those are weak an' sterile,

Choice is valour choice is chivalry for who are virile.

My omnipotent dearest God I choose to be with You,

I know that on Your pious path there'll be only few;

O dear God do fill my heart with all Your strength and love,

I promise You to free my brothers like a white dove.

जिन्दगी | Shubhra Srivastava

आज फिर रूठी सी है जिन्दगी

फिर से सूखी सी है जिन्दगी

बहुत कुछ है पास उसके

‌फिर भी टूटी सी है जिन्दगी|

जवाब मांगती रही सबसे,

अपने होने का एहसास मांगती रही सबसे

पर फिर भी छूटी सी है जिंदगी

इन रातों के अंधेरों में कहीं गुम सी है,

लगता है फिर से उन काले बादलों के बीच कहीं छुप सी गई है जिंदगी|

उम्मीद का कफन अोढ जीने चली है अपनी हर एक सांस ,

अरे, जरा सुनो तो, आज चमकदार मोती सी है जिंदगी

ना जाने कब इस उम्र को नजर लग जाए यह सोचकर थोड़ी सहमी सी है जिन्दगी

उम्र का क्या है वह तो एक अंक है,

यह जानकर चुलबुली सी है जिंदगी|

कभी बच्चों से लड़ती है तो कभी प्यार में पड़ती है

ऐसी है यह नटखट जिंदगी|

उम्र का तकाजा हो और साथ हो बुढ़ापे की लाठी,

लेकिन फिर भी वह सहारे को तरसती है जिंदगी|

पल भर जी कर कुछ एहसास में खो जाए

दिलों में अमर होकर यह दुनिया छोड़ जाए

आज जाना के कैसी है यह जिंदगी|

लड़की होना पाप नहीं | Mansi Yadav

लड़की होना कोई पाप नहीं,

ये किसी पर कोई श्राप नहीं,

इंसान है वो भी, कोइ बोझ नहीं,

सपने उसके भी तो हैं, बस उन सपनों का कोई मोल नहीं,

जिंदगी तो उसकी भी है, पर उस जिंदगी पर उसका ही कोई ज़ोर नहीं |

कुछ को जन्म लेते ही म्रत्यु उपहार मिली,

तो किसी ने पूरी जिंदगी चूल्हा-चौका और शादी बस यही जिंदगी है,

ये हर दिशा से आती आवाज सुनी |

बैठी है इस काल कोठरी में, और बस देखे जाए उस झरोखे को इस आस में की कहीं से तो उम्मीद की किरण बरसे,

अपनी गीली पलकें और सूजी आंखें लेकर बस वो सोचे,

कि क्यूँ बापू जी,

मैं तुम्हें हमेशा ही परायी लगी ?

क्यूँ बापूजी,

मैं तुम्हें बस तुम्हारे कांधे पर लधा बोझ लगी ?

क्यूँ बापूजी,

तुम्हारे भी कान में इस समाज की ही आवाज पडी?

कैसे तुम्हें तुम्हारी बिटिया की सिसकियों और आँखों में भरे आसुओं में दर्द से भरे सैलाब की खबर तक नहीं लगी?

ऐसा भी क्या हुआ बापूजी

जो तुम्हारी खुद की सन्तान से भी पहले तुम्हें हमेशा से दूसरों की ही चिंता लगी |

शादी बियाह की क्यूँ तुम्हें इतनी फिक्र लगी

जरा सोचो तो, जो एक बार गई तो किसको ख़बर वापस लौट पाऊँगी भी या नहीं |

क्यूँ बापूजी तुम्हें खुद से दूर करने की मुझे है इतनी जल्दी लगी?

क्यूँ मैं इस डोली को अपने सपनों की अर्थी बनाऊं |

जन्म दिया है तो लड़ना सिखाओ

सुनानी है तो झाँसी की रानी, इंदिरा गांधी, मदर टेरेसा जैसे वीर योद्धाओं की कहानियाँ सुनाओ

ये मासूम गुड़िया बनाकर मेरी इच्छाओं और मेरे सपनों का शोषण ना कराओ |

दुनिया जैसे भी है, पर तुम तो मुझे और मेरे संपूर्ण व्यक्तित्व को अपनाओ,

शादी की महत्वता को मैं समझती हूं, पर मेरी सोच, मेरे नजरिये, मेरी ख्वाहिशों को समझने का बड़प्पन तुम भी तो दिखाओ |

लड़की कोई भी कमज़ोर नहीं, उसमें काली की ज्वाला है,

पुरुष प्रधान देश कैसे हुआ जब हर सैनिक तक का "भारत माता की जय" ये नारा है |

A Pursuit of Peace | Paramjit Paul

And I silently watch him, breathing heavily the cold winter air,

Filling his lungs, eyes frozen, lost in thoughts, lips numb –

With just an aching heart and ghastly shadows curbing his mind,

He would sit motionless, long blank gaze towards infinity.

I watch him sleep, lying beside, caressing his hair,

Like a child cuddling to the slumber bind, he closes his eyes;

For his spirit is burdened, heart punctured and soul forlorn,

And deep within his loneliness, he still urges a return.

I see him waking up at night, screaming;

Shadows haunt, a slave he became to the weird nightmares –

And finally he would stay awake, emptying the whiskey bottles

Whilst scribbling down thoughts, a surrender to his horrid past.

And every morning he would visit the cemetery

Where his brothers-in-arms are laid to rest,

He would sit for hours silently, staring blankly on the graves,

For a war still wages on his mind, harder to efface.

The war was finally over, peace has been restored,

But I couldn’t find serenity deep within his soul;

For he lost his innocence, the day he lost his brothers,

A curse to the core, for being a lone survivor, death-betoken.

And years later, for the first time, I see tears welling in the frost,

Like thousand years of clamor been brought to respite,

He smiled when he looked into the innocent eyes, he finally found his peace

With the touch of life, he held our new born in his arms.

Hindu ya musalman | Arpit Khanna

Kisi shaks ne mujhse pucha, ke bhyi istri

Kiski zada mehfoos hai hindu ki ta musalman ki?

Main bola ke

Kya ban rha samaj...

Kya haiwaniyat ka ilaj...

Jaha tha naari ko poojta ...

Aj kaam kyu hai pooj rha...

Bata tune khuda or bhagwan...

Kitna badal rha insaan ...

Kya ban rha insan...

Becha tune harr zarra ae iemaan...

Mehfoos na koi ab,

Chahe hai tu hindu ya ho musalmaan...

Nazare sabki khraab yaha,

Tu hi bta kaha jaye ab yeh insaan...

Kitna badal rha insaan...

Kya ban rha insaan...

Fir ussi shaks ne mujhse dobara pucha ke bhyi

Tum btao tum hindu ho ya musalman?

Kon hindu kon musalmaan....

Kon sahi kon galt kya....

Mein jaanu sai bss tujhe hi....

Mujhe raabta tere naam ka ....

Waqif yeh duniya nhi tere kaarnamo se...

Isiliye ladd rha insaan hi insaano se...

Rehmat hai tere darr ki ...

Ke abhi tk mehfoos hum hai....

Vrna dharmo ne toh baat hi diya...

Kon hindu kon musalmaan hai...

Yeh drishye dekho ...

Toh rang dono ka hi laal hai...

Iss baat se saari qaynat hi anjaan hai...

Laash pdi hai mere qurbat me...

Btao kon hindu kon musalmaan hai...

to my davinci | Sneha Banerjee

my davinci my love, davinci your words were like sugar to me until they weren’t and until they were again and until i had no clue what they were until they just made sense to me until they felt like home, my home

there is so much pain so much agony so much trepidation in loving you but i’d take it, i’d take it through the day and night even if the world were against me heck, i’d take it if you were against me

for you my davinci you’ve made me laugh till my stomach hurt made me lay curled up in my own puddle of tears made every organ in me burn with raging jealousy when it was not for me to be, made my skin shiver with goosebumps every time you touched made me stay up nights with throbbing eyes with a pacing heart

for knowing that you live in the same parallel is solace alone to me

there is a crawling uneasiness within me that pangs all over me all around me till i stand desolate for the unmatched fear of never being yours plagues me

countless mistakes repulse regrets surround you my davinci breaking every inch of my composure i’ve left behind so much of my sanity vanity for a tinge of sense of sanctuary if that means it is you

here, my dearest davinci i despise myself a little more every day you’re another foot away

for my davinci loving isn’t easy i’ve clenched my soul can’t you see?

to know you’ve teared because of me is like a thousand needles grinding into my fingernails

i’ve never said so nor perhaps will ever to you but my davinci my love, davinci you’re the sweetest disguise of empathy to me the hardest to resonate

to find solace with me isn’t child’s play crippling anxiety thundering questions numerous doubts cloud around me i wouldn’t dare ask you to bare it and i honestly do not think you ever should

i’m a nocturnal animal in my own phase i do not know if you’ll ever really know the butterflies you bring in me there is so much hammered self-respect swallowed pride neglected health

i do not know where i stand as an individual anymore

to know there is a future, a future for just you and me and me and you is a piece of heaven the sense of conviction is the scent of luxury

dear davinci, my davinci, by when this storm ends i wish you’re mine and only mine and i’m yours and only yours and i only hope we learn to cherish ourselves the way we talked about to wake up to the success of our yesterdays and our tomorrows i hope we become us the way we talk about us the way we reek of us the way people see of us i hope we become us, of so bloody in love

कहना चाहूं मैं कितनी बातें | Ankita Yadav

कहना चाहूं मैं कितनी बातें

ऐसे ही, यूं ही

बेवक्त,बेवजह

काम-काज छोड़ के

बातें करे हम बैठ के ।

अच्छाई नहीं तो,

किसी कि बुराई करे ।

फिर चाहे वह बाते,

निष्करण की करे ।

कभी मोहल्ले की हरी टंकी

तो कभी काली, सफ़ेद गिने ।

तो कभी चींटियों की बारात देखें ।

दुल्हन तो नखरे वाली हैं

और बेचारा दूल्हा सीधा-साधा हैं।

बुआ जी के श्रृंगार तो देखो

और फूफा जी का ठाट ना पूछो।

दुल्हे की बहन और

दुल्हन के का भाई का

अलग ही अवलोकन चल रहा हैं।

लगता है अगले लग्न में

इनकी ही बारी हैं।

अरे! अरे! छोड़ो यह सब,

जयमाल शुरू हो गया हैं।

फूल मोगरे का है

नहीं- नहीं चमेली के हैं।

अरे भाई दोनों ही फूल हैं।

शायद! खाने का

कार्यक्रम शुरू हो गया

क्या बात करती हो तुम!?

अभी तो फोटो-सोटो होगा।

हां हां चलो हम

भी करवा लेते हैं।

अच्छा रूको-रूको थोड़ा सा

वास्तविकता में शामिल हों।

घड़ी में समय तो देखो २:५६ हो गया।

अब हमें चलना चाहिए

किसी और दिन

ये प्रोग्राम होना चाहिए।

अरे हां वे दोनों

नये प्रेमी जोड़ा है ना

उनकी शादी साथ देख लेंगे।

और हां उसको

पूरा देख के ही जायेंगे।

आगे मैं अगले

लग्न का इन्तजार करू।

किसके घर कितनी नयी टंकी

उसे गिनने का प्रतीक्षा करु।

लिखा करू,बोला करू यूं ही

ना जाने

कहना चाहूं मैं कितनी बातें ।

Owner of the stethoscope | Misbath Ansari

During corona attack,

Whole world was fighting,

All the powers were hiding.

There arrives a team of an angle,

They again lightened the world like a candle.

They were wearing the coat white,

Working fearlessly day and night.

They brightened the people's hope,

They were no other,

but the owner of the stethoscope.

Hiraeth Longing | Aarya J

The first of may reminds me of a lot of things from the first rain to the first sight

Reminds me of the cold embraces of the wind to the glorious touch of summer breeze still in air

Like how a beautiful summer melody flows from a piano up above in perfect sync with the powerful string of a guitar

The magnificent dress that the earth wears just to match the admirable splash of colours the sky proudly carry

To kiss the summer breeze sitting on a park bench while the birds chirp somewhere making it sound like it was made for something unknown

The sky cried for the first time in a long while this year and the earth welcomed her sorrow to give back the beauty of it as flowers bloomed under her tears

The surrounding beauty was as majestic as eternal as the love i had for this moment alone

As i gaze upon the sun from my front balcony, sinking deep under earths hug as the moon is left to wonder what she did wrong again

And i kept gazing upon the sky over all the things left unsaid and the things yet to come

All of it all at once the feeling, the overwhelming emotion it flows from one heart to that of another

As it is still left to wonder why it was such that the longing for that embrace is merely a memory as the face and the touch fades away as the heart forgets how it felt to be the one

Aftermath of a War | Liz Thomas

Death,

Comrade of the slain,

The dark-visaged grandeur

Shrouded in mystery.

He runs amok the warfront

Calling the perished souls

to him, the anticipated stranger

Whose embrace few yearns.

Vengeance,

Progeny of the slain,

Appeals to the mighty Ares,

The army lies in wait.

Trickery, Cunning, and Selfishness,

Overlords of the pawns,

Whose lust for blood and the ensuing madness

Blinds them to their wrongs.

Clammy with pain,

Blood and gore coat their broken bodies,

"Mercy", they cry in vain

To the battle-hardened men with benumbed hearts.