Posts

Showing posts from June, 2021

Hiroshima: A poem by Lopamudra Mallick

Image
  6 August 1945 The lust for power is cataclysmic. And Hiroshima has a taste of this. Standing helplessly, she had beheld her home crumbling down, like a pack of cards.  The spasmodic groans of her children reverberated in her ears. Groping her way through darkness and flames,  She shrieked in utter pain. Had you heard? Listen. She still moans corralling her children in her arms.  She has forgiven but not forgotten. Eons after, she stands like the oak with her sutured wounds. The neanderthals had stripped her off, plundered her soul,  Snapped at her flesh, even her intestines. She still reminisces - how she held the bust of her daughter, struggling to find the other half. Oh! What Minotaur-like destruction! The graves proclaimed the end of the war. Ah! Does it mean the end of agony for Hiroshima? Some scars- deep scars bleed forever. With thousands of lanterns set afloat in the Motoyasu River, Hiroshima silently sheds tears and strifes to resurrect herself.

To my mother: A poem by Lopamudra Mallick

Image
  Draw the blinds, let there be light I hear the cosmos celebrating Open the windows, the fresh morning breeze whistles and calls my name - the intrepid! There is someone at the door The nothingness says it's incandescence, your dried tears say it's justice. My house was brutally plundered Darkness least knew I was your frangipani The more I was crushed, the more redolent I became. There wasn't a night when your pillow didn't cry with you. You silently prayed and asked- where did my frangipani go? The Angels were busy writing the retribution. I know you are frazzled. But get up, your prayers are not denied. Let's plunder the darkness today! I rejoicingly shed tears, Ma. I triumphantly whimper and gently shower on you asking- How could fragrance ever be evanesced?

Immaculate innocence: A poem by Dipanjan Bhattacharjee

Image
Into my pristine eyes; lies innocence of a century, Nonchalant to all mundane mayhems; I fete a naive glory. Too credulous a soul I hold; thriving within my core, Ignorant of malevolent norms; it stays slaphappy o'er the shore. Ne'er drenched in fluids of a jade; I carry a chaste heart within, Praising the fallen leaves; I bask in a solemn routine. I behold the crawling ants; they work in a sublime hush, Thru' the hazel barks; they stroll the foliage lush. I talk to butterflies; they unveil the bygone days, As the cocoons broke; they flapped thru' the scarlet rays. Awestruck to their art; I spell no voice or word, My curious pair of eyes; keep looking for my birds. Magpies; storks and more; opaline shades they hold, Few are tinselled winged; they mime the birds of gold. I maunder to the stalks; they hold those cerise flowers, Wandering by the garth; I spend my fruitful hours. Hither though oft a time; I contemplate within,  What mysteries stay concealed behind a lusciou

The Indomitable: A poem by Ankurita Khajanchi

Image
I summed up my desires and marked a distant land Seemingly a chimera in the air, only I could comprehend My guardian angels smiling, from blue all around I could hear them susurrate, why do my dreams confound? And all the favorites of, the omnipotent powers Did throw some pointers, warned me of the scars As I began a journey towards my aims of 'morrow Sin's companion expectation tried bringing in sorrow. And further, as I tread on, the fallen angel of criticism gave its wry smile And 'four people' were already there, to question my profile Devil's sister envy was on a spree, with her crooked green eyes The self-declared Wizards picked flaws in me, not to my surprise. The gruesome cousin of Satan pounced on my will Dejection tried to sink in, that was a signal of peril. The helpless angels of the divine, couldn't prop up to my rescue For God helps those who help themselves, this I so knew. Dithering and unsure, I raised my head, my cheeks damp with tears There ai

Helpless Angels: A poem by Sampurna Chatterjee Ganguly

Image
Cradled in granny's lap my childhood passed, In winter by the hearth, or in spring on the bed with mirth, Listening to the tales of angels and imagining their white wings, I began to grow up by giving time winks.  I knew for sure they would come to make my years golden, I used to feel their presence around to make myself emboldened.  The clouds o'er the hills, the stars around the moon, All used to appear to me like angels coming to the earth soon.  Life was joyous until the reality stark, The angels with their gossamer wings ne'er embarked. Agonized humans around and the unavoidable disaster, Making life interrupt its ride of roller coaster.  "Why don't they come to heal our world" I soliloquized that day seeing again the stars, Instead of the angels, I could see only the faces of ours, Hapless people suffering to breathe, Mankind is now the only prey of this pandemic.  The angels of my dream were helpless too, they disappeared in the distant horizon, Of cour

Our ruined destiny: A poem by Amrita Lahiri Bhattacharya

Image
The moon is lost in the arms of the night,  So was my messy hair entangled in the web of your love, You calmed my frazzled nerves when we were together till late at night,  In nude shades, dreams spilled from the eyes of reality, There were pastel hues in my monochromatic lens,  You lighted the candles in the path of loneliness, Where fireflies flitted around my floral printed dress,  You kissed my scars and played with my waves of hair, Listened to my otiose and asinine play of words hung on my lips as an afterthought, You sensed my inchoate desires,  hugging me tight in your arms,  Even heaven rejoiced and blended in our soulful union,  The fragrance of love spread far and wide,  We came so close but alas! The distance were never truncated,  In the verandah of my mind, your ethereal kisses play the cymbal, concussed neck,  Moments of glory and shimmery passion never fades into oblivion but blur,  I write your name in the sands only to be obliterated by the rushing waves,  The moon pl

Hiroshima: A story by Lalita Vaitheeswaran

Image
Dr. Davis Alfred could not sleep that night. He had scanned two patients with similar defects in their babies in-utero. The head of the baby was smaller than normal and both the limbs had a deformity. He was waiting for dawn so that he could talk to his colleague Dr. Sairo Yakamto who was a renowned oncologist in the whole of Hiroshima, the island city of Honshu. “How can this be true?” Dr. Sairo was almost muttering to himself. Dr. Davis showed him the scans while both had a cup of black coffee and sandwiches as they discussed the medical reports. “Mutations!” exclaimed Dr.Sairo as he came to a conclusion. It had been almost been 75 years after the horrendous incident! “Two generations survived and this is the third!” he said as he sat with his palm on his head as in deep thinking. No! not again! Shouted Dr. Davis teary-eyed, in dismay as he reminisced. ********** Angela, his wife was expecting her second child. She was into her eighth week when all hell had broken loose. Every scan t

A bouquet of love: A poem by Pooja Mandla

Image
You chose the contrasting colors Of care, understanding, and space And in the bouquet, you tied all these bloomers, With the strong and eternal love lace. You fragranced my breath, With the aroma of your love so true Calmed and soothed my turmoil mind and soul, As I consumed the fragrance of you. The waft of your love; like the waves of an ocean, Caressed my lonely shore, And my raw emotions Somewhere deep within, it touched my core. Your perfume that I inhaled, Demanded nothing in return to prove my worth My flaws and imperfections, you accepted, And I witnessed my rebirth. The scent of your love emanated  Scintillated and hypnotized me, You gave me the space in our togetherness,  The spirit of our understanding did reign and glee. You nurture this bouquet of love every day that you gave me, So, it's still so fresh and pure Its perfume shall linger till eternity, In my heart and soul.  

Lavender: A poem by Anamika Kundu

Image
It caught my senses before I could saunter, The gusts of calming pleasantness pervading the core And as I ventured further near, A sea of purple arose far and near A brilliant shade of light and dark From purple to pastel, lavender stark! As far as the eye could see… From the earth to the sky - Heavenly! The sun was on its way down  As were the birds, homeward bound But I- I felt the joy slowly gurgle unbound!

To my mother: A poem by Amrita Chatterjee

Image
  You create me in your likeness, With all the love you can garner. I, too shape you into a mother, To each other's ways, we are no strangers.  You mold me with your experience, expertise, Careful not to falter or commit a mistake.  I, too bring back the joys of growing up, Together in this journey memories, we make. You wish me the best in everything I do, Tireless in your continuous endeavor. To see you happy I try my best, Whatever I achieve is also yours in equal measure.  You are me and I am you, You cry my tears I smile your smile. We exchange our roles of mother and daughter,  We evolve and adapt,  our parts we restyle. 

Sakura in spring: A poem by Amrita Chatterjee

Image
The breath of spring in the lackadaisical fragrant breeze, Suffusing the atmosphere with loveliness that senses appease, Tufts of white fluff in an aimless leisurely sojourn,  Nature in soft floral hues herself adorn.  Mellow spring melting the frozen desire of earth,  Dispels the chill filling the void with warmth,  Hanami it is, invoking in people a festive spirit cheery, People in hordes soak up the sun and make merry. Pops of pink, streaks of white, shades of crimson,  Sakura in bloom usher in the much-awaited season,  Trees overladen with the opulence of cherry bloom, The air saturated with a subtle sweet perfume. Sprinkles of rosy hue on the serene aqua blue, Sky blushes pink borrowing the sakura hue, Counterbalancing its transient existence with bountiful beauty, Sakura is Spring couched in ephemerality  

To my mother: A poem by Lopamudra Mallick

Image
Draw the blinds, let there be light I hear the cosmos celebrating Open the windows, the fresh morning breeze whistles and calls my name - the intrepid! There is someone at the door The nothingness says it's incandescence, your dried tears say it's justice. My house was brutally plundered Darkness least knew I was your frangipani The more I was crushed, the more redolent I became. There wasn't a night when your pillow didn't cry with you. You silently prayed and asked- where did my frangipani go? The Angels were busy writing the retribution. I know you are frazzled. But get up, your prayers are not denied. Let's plunder the darkness today! I rejoicingly shed tears, Ma. I triumphantly whimper and gently shower on you asking- How could fragrance ever be evanesced?

Lucknow, the city of Nawabs: A poem by Nivedita Roy

Image
My city has a laid back attitude,  so they say…… It resonates with honks of gaiety Adorned with Awadhi culture and architecture Catching up with the rhythm of progression The green serene Cantonment area, The noisy but happening Qaiser bagh The soft pace of the river Gomti The majestic campus of the University Hazratganj remains the heartbeat of Lucknow Aminabad reverberates with casual bargaining ‘Tis the hub of the active political arena Bureaucracy remains its strong spine The Taj, the malls, the green parks Gomti Nagar makes its mark Unmistakable camaraderie at the paan shops Unfortunate landing of red spit on the roads The inimitable style of boasting beyond belief The colorful kites dotting the blue sky The age-old tradition still has some enthusiasts O My city! you are the epitome of culture and hospitality Do retain your essence and vitality.

Sakura in spring: A poem by Sheela S. Iyer

Image
 White and Pink petals……   The sun rose up in the sky, shining brightly Trees painted in pink and white glow softly. The leaves rustle and dance in the breeze Enjoying every bit before falling from the trees.   Cherry blossom trees bloom so beautifully each spring Covered with fragile flowers, white and pink. Pleasant and gratifying, surrounded everywhere Its sweet and wonderful aroma fills the air.   Wedding venue when decorated with Sakura, looks elegant The whole place smells like a unique scent. The flowers also enhance the beauty of the bride, Mesmerises everyone standing beside.   The springtime bloom is a lavish spectacle Though remarkably brief, everyone celebrates its arrival. Beautiful flowers shiver and fall down with the rising wind, Carpeting the ground in a swathe of pink.   Oh Sakura, can you not live for a long while? Your goodbye seems to take away our smile. Nevertheless, we will look forward to seeing you And relish the beauty again underneath the sky of blue.

When darkness loomed ahead: A story by Saravjot Hansrao

Image
  The incessant rain was beginning to worry Mohan Da as he completed the evening round around the excavated hill side. For most this was the taste of the season….the continuous drizzle appearing to be like fine crystal curtains glittering in the sunrays. Mohan Da, the most experienced Senior Engineer on the excavation site was also the one with the most trusted intuitions. The growing façade of grey was now irking his sixth sense as he tried to avoid thoughts of the darkness that loomed ahead. He had always expressed a doubt on this excavation site. After all, nature‘s sensitivity is akin to the humans. The thick cover of flowering ‘Palash’ trees had been uprooted, thus exposing a bare, loose hill side with high probability of landslides. “Can a mother bear the loss of her children?” this thought gnawed at his conscience. Having updated his seniors over the radio set, he walked right into the tunnel waving the bright yellow helmet, a signal that brought all the workers covering towar

Lavender Smile: A poem by Indrani Chowdhury

Image
The heathen, unsullied lantanas, Carefree beauties of the wild, Graces the dormitories of,   Hills, plains, and valleys, Wearing their lavender smile. A chance glance at it, Uplifts the spirit of a troubled soul, One starts to believe in miracles, While marveling at their lavender robe. The lantanas wear their lavender smile, While facing hails, storms, and stress, Sending us a powerful message, That someday love would reappear to wipe away all our tears,  That someday all our grievances would be redressed. The rejections, the failures, The grievances, the silent tears, All seems, in their presence, things of a distant past. And hope springs in the human heart, By witnessing how they stand tall even at difficult times,  Still retaining their everlasting lavender smile. Note: Lantana is a genus of about 150 species of perennial flowering plants of the verbena family, verbenaceae. Lantanas are seen almost everywhere in the northeast part of India, specifically at Guwahati in Assam, where

Arabian Nights : A poem by Banani Sikdar

Image
Vast blue horizon overhead, vast warm golden sands underneath, Against oddities, nature survives and thrives in its own sheath. The cavalcade marches gently, making a pageant theatrical,  The regal, mystifying, Arabia, cradles 'Arabian Nights' in its soil. An unparalleled monument in the eternal art of storytelling, The 'Arabian Nights' stands tall, grand with mesmerism titillating. The exotic, fantastic fantasy, revolves around a king Shaharayar,  A king, betrayed by his queen, grows vengeful beyond measure.  He vows to wed a marriageable maid each day,  Only to execute her at dawn, the next day.  The sacrificial lambs soon dwindle in large number,  When Shahrazad, the Grand Vizier's daughter steps forth to volunteer.  Marrying the king willingly, despite her father's vehement protest,  With a penchant for storytelling,  she sets out on her conquest.  Each night she begins a tale, never-ending before daybreak,  The king kept enthralled, steadily she earns her s

Matritva: A poem by Anjali Srivastava

Image
क्या कोख में एक भ्रूण सहेजना,  नियत समय तक अपने रक्त से सींचना,  निश्चित समय आने पर जन्म दे देना , इतनी सी ही मातृत्व की परिभाषा है? कदापि नहीं, यह तो मात्र एक पड़ाव है,  मातृत्व तो मनःस्थिति का ठहराव है,  यह वात्सल्य की शीतल छांव है,  यह ईश्वर की प्राणी मात्र से आशा है! जब एक नन्ही सी बच्ची भोली  प्यार से गाती अपनी ही बोली,  सुलाती गुड़िया को गा कर लोरी,  तब यह भी मातृत्व की भाषा है! जब कोई स्त्री परायी सन्तान को,  यशोदा बन उस पर,लुटाती प्राण को,  माता सम वात्सल्य देती अनजान को,  गढ़ती हर पल मातृत्व की परिभाषा है! कोई ऐसी भी कुमाता होती,  संतान को बोझ समझ वो ढोती,  कूड़े में उसे फेंक हाथ वो धोती  वह ईश्वर की एक बड़ी निराशा हैं!

Matritva: A poem by Radha Shailendra

Image
  न जाने कौन से एहसास की दुनिया है मातृत्व जिसे कहते है अपनी ही खून से सींचकर माँ जिसे पैदा करती है उनकी मुस्कुराहट पर न जाने कितनी प्रसव पीड़ा वो कुर्बान करती है! कहते है जिसको माँ उनके लिये तो बना कोई शब्द ही नहीं नौ महीने के जज्बात खुद में समेटे हर रिश्ते से पहले अपने बच्चों से नाता जोड़े हर तकलीफ मुस्कुरा कर उठाती है माँ कितने प्यार से इस रिश्तें को निभाती है! माँ कहाँ खुद सो पाती है अपने बच्चों की बलायें खुद पे ले आती है बनकर दुआ हर पल साथ रहती है माँ तो वो सावन है जो हर पल बरसती है! जिंदगी की धूप में एक घना छाया है माँ के कदमों में ही सुख का खजाना है! माँ है तो फरमाईशें है माँ है तो हमारी महफूजीयत है माँ धरती पर ईश्वर की प्रतिछाया है माँ सिर्फ माँ है...!

Matritva: A poem by Rashmi Suman

Image
मातृत्व समर्पण का पर्याय है, स्वयं में यह पूरा अध्याय है संस्कारों का पुस्तकालय है कभी धरा कभी हिमालय है कौशल्या भी यही और कैकई भी  यशोदा भी यही और देवकी भी ईश्वर की प्रतिनिधि का यह रूप है त्याग, करुणा का ही स्वरूप है मरुस्थल में यह है मीठे जल की नदी माँ तो अपने आप में है एक सदी प्रेम के संचयन, निर्वहन में होती है माहिर इसकी ममता तो द्वापरयुग से है ज़ाहिर माँ और मिट्टी एक जैसी ज़िन्दगी यहीं तो अंकुरित होती माँ बनना या होना सम्बन्ध नहीं, बल्कि भाव है...

The unfinished story: A poem by Sampurna Chatterjee Ganguly

Image
The sky is reverberated with the warbled opera and on the bank, I am pondering over, In the brisk breeze, my hair is tossing around, Like the whirling leaves in autumn. The faint golden rays of the setting sun, Is painting sepia over the auburn horizon? Twilight sneaks in, and the red, yellow clouds are floating in euphoric exuberance, And reach almost the land  to weave the verses of the impending night, The soft cool breeze is aimlessly treading over the land in front of my sight, I am nudged with an epiphany and at the sky I gaze. I realize life is really unforeseeable and in the flickering hues of twilight, At times I turn the quivering pages of the book of my life, The unfinished story of love is there that I commenced to write, I close my eyes and realize the story had indeed never begun. Hence it couldn't meet the end, a story too unbegun. I start shedding off the regret of what was not mine, I reckon you and me will not meet ever, the parted twain, I can see myself floating

The half-painted odyssey: A poem by Ankurita Khajanchi

Image
Engraved in polychromes, carved in kaleidoscopic sheen A tale unfolds, with a heart all green The recital begins, striking many a chord With messianic passion, to walk the deep ford Town painted all red, at the apotheosis fulfillment seems certain An odyssey begins, insouciant of what would bring down the curtain.  Fervid and fiery like an unsheathed sword Sweet as honey and bitter as a gourd Experiences are vivid, unsatiated with the wee Until it reaches the crossroads, facing the grueling devil and the deep sea  The dreams that terminate here, leave behind ashes of the yore But the odyssey that continues, keeps bringing the waves back to the shore. The unfinished is neither done, nor the fragrance retires The heart is haunted by the shadows, it so fondly desires The ink might dry, or the pen might stop, the story yet to see its fate When a dream is half painted, the agony does excruciate The yearning that strangles, between letting go and getting done The hankering so intense is acco

To my mother: A poem by Ritu Kamra Kumar

Image
To 'crystallize' mother in a verse is paying  obeisance to Divinity My mother now an illustrious star on the horizon Scintillates brightly the cosmos with her angelic purity A walking history of strife she had always  been Her assuring pat in life's travails served  as an energy booster The epitome of grace and elegance, her mien  sacred and serene A metaphor of silence and sacrifice, in placid pride she never sighed Bravely facing all the adversities she made us touch the sky I miss her warm, soft touch of the hand, her smile so wide Her soulful dulcet infused eternal peace in our home and hearts A life coach, friend, guiding force, to me best education, did she impart I owe her a lot, she shaped my destiny with her divine art Whenever in a dilemma I look up! I see a shadow in the deep blue sky Aww Mom! You bestow your blessings  from above I bow my head with tears of gratitude in my eyes!

The unfinished story: A poem by Nivedita Roy

Image
The silver sheen in the sky  Created darkness if not found  thereby  When in its full and vibrant look Created ripples and the sea shook  The tides rise high to touch and kiss their suitor  The moon though remains the unrequited love! Tossing their emotions in an upheaval  It recedes slowly, to play hide and seek  The tides follow suit, they prefer to be meek  They long for the full moon  They pine to culminate the passion  The lunar disc wanes and disappears to appear  again slowly  It plays, ruffles, and entices the sea waves  But just flirts and moves away, Tis the resolve of the waves to pull it closer  ‘Tis the game of the moon to evade and be the poser!  Unrequited love remains full but unfulfilled...