Tag: #English-Poetry

Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi, NM

(We are extremely thankful to Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi ji  for sharing his literary and art works with e-abhivyakti.  An alumnus of IIM Ahmedabad, Capt. Pravin has served the country at national as well international level in various fronts. We present an excellent poetry depicting pain and sorrow of every river in the country.  Every one is aware of the reasons and worried about the level of pollution. But, who will take the first step for the mankind.  This poetry is actually anguish of the river sensed by Capt. Raghuvanshi ji.  

In his own words

Visiting my place in Varanasi, situated at the confluence of Ganga and Gomati…

Wrote few lines on state of rivers in our country…     Capt. Raghuvanshi:

Today, we present the poetry of Capt. Pravin Raghuvanshi ji “Anguish of the River…” .)

 

☆ Anguish of the River… ☆

 

River is not like *Neelkanth*, the Lord Shiva!

 

She was once a playful translucent river

And me, a carefree

ambitious damsel

Used to do *Aachman*,

sipping her sacred water while offering her my resolute obeisance…

 

I always stood by her

as a solid rock

Kept attending to all

–her evergrowing frustrations,

–her excruciating vexations,

–her boisterous predicaments

I was happy to be

the rock to her…

 

But, one day you came,

While clutching me

crossed all the limits

I didn’t like your

that filthy touch,

In a moment, I got disintegrated

into millions of sand particles…

 

Just fell devastated into

forlorn lap of the river

That’s when I realised that

river is not mere flowing water…

 

She, being a dextrous historian,

Kept scripting historical manuscripts,

Creating cultures, nurturing customs as a responsible ancestor…

 

She was also a

modern trendsetter

Always altering courses

on her freewill…

She was the seeker, a questor!

 

She was a loving-mother incarnate

That’s how I could live the sufferings of the river…

 

Now, you’ve removed even

the womb, intestine, heart,

flesh and marrow from her body…

 

So many times, I could

–Hear her sobbing from

the palatial garrets

–Witness the river

repeatedly shedding her

tears in the inner

layers of the roads

 

She too wanted to get dispersed as particles

in the thin air

Exactly like me!

 

But where could she go?

Where could she get accommodated? Where!!

As she did not have the river,

just like herself only…

 

I fell on her bosom, tiredly

Kept watching her helplessly,

While you choked her face

with a dirty cloth

Had to watch her painful sufferings,

Her writhing in agony,

even for a breath!

Her misery of breathlessness

was far worse than my dispersing into particles…

 

River, that joyfully

spilled around

its banks for ages

Now, in this epoch, has only last few breaths of life

Stinking, panting,

Counting her remaining breaths…!

 

How many times

did I beg of you

If you desire, take my remaining particles too; but,

Fill her with few breaths

in her lungs

By mouth-to-mouth resuscitation,

Just return her past glory

Which you forcibly

snatched her of,

Plant *Singi* tools

to pull all the poison

out of her body…

 

Listen,

River cannot survive

By drinking the poison

Because, river is not the *Neelkanth*, the Lord Shiva…!

 

Note:

*Neelkanth* (Blue throat), is the other name of Lord Shiva who drank the poison, without having effect on Him; as He held it in His throat which turned blue because of its severity; thus, called as *Neelkanth*

*Singi* is a tool which is used for sucking poison from the body…

 

© Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi, NM

Hemant Bawankar

 

(Inspired by the news published in a newspaper in which a mother donated her eyes with an unborn child before dowry-death.  This poem has been cited from my book “The Variegated Life of Emotional Hearts”.)

 

 ☆ It’s not an eye-donation….  It is an eye-offering  ☆ 

 

Listen

these eyes are

not only eyes

but,

these eyes are

like melted and purified gold

in the life’s altar.

 

I have seen.

No ….No

these eyes have seen

a river of fire

warmth in the mother’s lap

and

inflammation of puberty.

 

Wedding pavilion

sacrificial altar

and seven rounds

around the fire.

 

The first night’s

soft and warm flower bed

and ….  and

various forms of fire.

 

My beautiful body,

I was proud of which

has been scorched

in

the fire of dowry.

 

Where is ‘he’?

Where?

Who has held my hands

by making

fire as witness.

Now given

the fire of dowry;

and ……

he will give

the fire of the funeral.

 

But, Mom!

Why are you crying?

And brother,

you too?

 

You are drowned in debt

by raising funds for dowry.

 

How have you been broken in life?

Alas!

Dad is no more today.

Else,

in your place

he could have offered

his shoulder to you

in support

to cry with you!

 

My goodbye tears

are still in my eyes

and

my bier is being readied.

 

Enough is enough.

Breath is less than hope,

I am going

with an unborn child.

I can’t imagine

his/her face

and

I don’t know

how he/she could

smile/play/laugh/cry

if he/she could take birth?

 

No ….. no

Mom!

Enough is enough.

 

Now,

give these eyes to someone.

Not as a donation

as charity is being done by those

that have something.

 

Therefore,

it is not an eye-donation

it is an eye-offering

to continue the journey

of life.

 

Listen

These eyes are

not only eyes

but,

these eyes are

melted and purified gold

in the life’s altar.

 

© Hemant Bawankar

This poem was written on 2nd December, 1987.

Shri Divyanshu Shekhar 

 

(Young author Shri Divyanshu Shekhar writes poems, stories, plays and scripts in Hindi and English. His first collection of poems  “Zindagi – ek chalchitra” was published in May 2017 and first English Novel “Too Close – Too Far” in December 2018. Today we present his poem “Fair wasn’t fair “.)

☆ Fair wasn’t fair ☆

A kid and an adult went to a fair and my good luck, I was also there.

Kid was cute like a teddy bear while adult was looking fit and fair.

There were swings, which were trying to make everyone feel that you also have wings.

Kid didn’t try due to the fear of height while adult didn’t try due to backbite.

Kid tasted foods irrespective to the diet while adult was counting someone unhygienic bites.

Kid shouted and laughed while adult just smiled.

Kid had everything to act while adult had nothing to react.

Kid looked all the things with possibilities while adult watched all those with responsibilities.

Kid’s expenditure was hundred percent while adult couldn’t spend a single cent.

I tried to talk with them individually but my bad luck, they both returned simultaneously.

I observed both but a doubt in my mind is still active, was fair a noun or just an adjective?

 

© Divyanshu Shekhar

Ms Neelam Saxena Chandra

 

(We reproduce this poem taken from the famous poetry collection ‘Winter Shall Fade’ that finds a place in Limca Book of Records for being the first book co-authored by a mother-daughter duo (Ms. Neelam Saxena Chandra ji and Ms Simran Chandra ji ) published by Omji Publishers.) 

Amazon Link: ‘Winter Shall Fade’

 

☆ Dreams ☆

 

I embrace my dreams

Just like the moon

Embraces the moonlight

Or the veil of night

Embraces the stars.

 

I fall in love with them

Little by little

And they come to me

Bit by bit

Kissing me

Hugging me

Skimming me,

As if drizzling upon me

And covering me with affection,

Percolating like fragrance

All over my being

And singing

Some happy numbers.

 

Keep dreaming

For

The relationship

Between dreams and self

Is the most fulfilling…

 

© Ms Neelam Saxena Chandra and Ms. Simran Chandra, Pune 

 

Ms Neelam Saxena Chandra

 

(We present Ms. Neelam Saxena Chandra ji‘s thought provoking poem based on the mythological character King Parikshit’s Karma and Dharma.)

 

☆ The end of King Parikshit ☆

 

By a snake bite cursed to die

King Parikshit, in a tall tower locks

Isolated from subjects, children and wives

Paces in his room, unable to talk

 

Petrified he is, does not eat or sleep

Finally his curse, to everyone reveals

Every inlet to the tower is guarded

No slithering Naga should come to kill

 

On the seventh day, the famished Parikshit

Disgustedly, darts into a fruit

Hidden inside is a little worm

Which transforms into a serpent’s suit

 

Takshaka is the name

Its deadly fangs into Parikshit’s skin sinks

Spreads rapidly the venom

And soon breathes his last, the king

 

Destiny can never change

The fate of a pauper or royale

Providence decides whatever is deserved

Karma and dharma are inevitable

 

© Ms Neelam Saxena Chandra, Pune 

 

Ms Neelam Saxena Chandra

☆ An Ode to Ravana ☆

(We present Ms. Neelam Saxena Chandra ji‘s thought provoking poem based on the mythological character Ravana.)

 

O Ravana! I bow to you!

With your sword’s might

And your valour’s mysticism,

You could have forced Sita for anything,

And yet, to treat her with respect you opted,

Gave her a choice to decide

And venerated her “No”!

 

O Ravana! So different you were!

It’s just that the times were also atypical

And despite the innocence of Sita,

Chastised she was,

Even by her husband own,

And, to live a life in exile, forced-

People blamed you for her condition,

No one impugned Ram!

 

O Ravana! How happy I would be

To see you come back to earth now!

The land, in tatters lies,

And women are not respected anymore-

Her “No” is most often not treated as a “No”

And no one honours her now by asking

If she desires something!

 

© Ms Neelam Saxena Chandra, Pune 

Ms Neelam Saxena Chandra

☆ My Dreams ☆

(“My Dreams” is one of the best poems of Ms. Neelam Saxena Chandra’ji which not only inspires you, but motivates too to struggle for fulfillment of your dreams. When I look back the journey of e-abhivyakti it always gives me a positive message. Thanks Ms Neelam ji to motivate me to continue the journey of life too.)

My Dreams

I am a gusty wind that darts
Merrily at its own pace;
I do not stop for joyous detours,
My fiery dreams I chase…

I am not a merry moon,
Waxing and waning at pleasure;
I am the fierceness of the sun
That has no time for leisure…

How can I lazily lie?
Halting is prohibited by my soul!
Life is bizarre and short
And horizons are my goal…

My own target posts
I keep stretching and expanding;
After all, existence is an ellipsis
If you know to struggle, it keeps enlarging…

 

© Ms Neelam Saxena Chandra, Pune 

 

Ms Neelam Saxena Chandra

☆ To Meera ☆

( Ms. Neelam Saxena Chandra’ji succeeded to break illusion of Meera of so called Kaliyug.  If one can understand, it is a great message for woman.  Always pray almighty God Krishna but, don’t wait for him to solve your problems. Only you have to solve your problems. The great poem with great message for everyone.) 

Wake up Meera!

If someone sends you a basket

With cobra

And names it as a basket of flowers,

It won’t turn into a Krishna’s idol,

A cobra it shall remain!

 

Wake up Meera!

If you are delivered a cup of poison

Stating that it is nectar,

Even if you offer it to Krishna,

Poison it shall remain

And you shall die!

 

Wake up Meera!

If you jump in a river,

There shall be no Krishna

To make you float;

And drowning shall be your destiny!

 

Wake up Meera!

Learn to survive on your own!

Miracles don’t happen,

And no one comes to save anyone-

Seeing this ruthless, frigid and unsentimental world,

Even the Krishnas have disappeared;

You have to learn to swim

And cross oceans of life!

 

© Ms Neelam Saxena Chandra, Pune 

Ms Neelam Saxena Chandra

☆ Thoughts in my pocket  ☆

(We present this amazingly scripted poem by Ms. Neelam Saxena Chandra’ ji.  This amazing poem on thoughts has an amazing control on thoughts too. I salute Ms. Neelam ji  to pen down such a beautiful poem for which sky is the limit.)

 

With a few thoughts in my pocket

I wandered over the hills and vales;

Wondering how to stitch them together

And in a pretty poetry interlace…

 

I tossed some of the thoughts in the air

And held them in my hands once again;

With the fragrance of the milieu

A beautiful aroma was embedded in them…

 

I weaved the thoughts one by one

On a needle, just like a wool soft;

Their beauty swelled manifold

And in happiness they rocked…

 

I dipped the thoughts in colourful dyes,

They became colourful and merry too;

In the magnificent canvas of life,

They like delighted birds cooed…

 

I made some syrup of gur and sugar

And submerged them in the liquid;

My thoughts became sugar-coated and sweet

They drooled in tranquillity and were placid…

 

And then, I played scrabble with them,

And placed them randomly on the board;

My thoughts now formed a lovely poetry,

And in ecstasy, over the skies soared…

 

© Ms Neelam Saxena Chandra, Pune