haiku: faith or fear?

life simpering in a scamper

prayers denying fears

faiths reconstructing block by block

 

haiku: life

loping like wind

Indiscriminate race of life

years lost

with no concrete results

frame has lost the picture, finally

haiku: diwali

dense forest of remembrances
fuming time year on year
memory fading out 
but enough oil still in lamp,
conveying sparkling eyes
happy diwali

Poetry: The winter is coming:Two Soldiers On Each Side Of The Border

"The winter is coming... 
Don't forget to get an extra supply
of Rum and sharing with us
like we did last year
and a year before that", - 
said the soldier on that side of the border.
"Alright", nodded the soldier
on this side of the border.

"The winter is coming...
and so are the elections", - 
said the local political leader
to the huge gathering.
"I promise to fulfill all your dreams
in next five years, if you 
vote me this time too!
The same way I have done
for these five years".
"What rubbish!" someone
in the crowd said.

"The winter is coming..."
conversed two siblings.
"The coziness, the fireplace,
new warm clothes, hot food
and a lot more."

"The winter is coming...
This might be my last year
as my bones have 
weakened
and my all clothes
are badly torn!"
said an old beggar
to his young partner.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Poetry: My Second Date With God

It is my second date

with God.

We both had forgotten

about our first date

so were pretty

excited, thinking

about a first date

between two strangers

though we both realized later

that we both were mistaken.

I had, though, thought about 

God many a times during

my life, after

I gained my senses.

I had talked to God

many a times,

imaging,

imagining,

in a virtual space.

Most of the time it had

been difficult to differentiate

whether it was a talk within

me 

or with someone outside, living

in another world.

The moment we met,

taking it as a first date,

but in actual a second date,

we both realized we had a 

date before,

but had forgotten

each other's faces

and the time.

The first date was before

God dispatched me to Earth

after stamping me with my

date of production,

and now the second date is

when i have reached to my

expiry date and can no longer

stay here, as nobody needs me

here now.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Poetry: Education Slavery Freedom

A young girl of 17
at a price of her freedom of speech in her country
while fighting for education for girls
gets hit by a bullet in her head by 
her own countrymen,
survives, gets another life, 
but to leave her country forever
to save herself against further attacks
gets shelter in another country
where she can live, laugh and write
whatever way she likes.

She gets Nobel peace prize
within seconds, her whole country
where she was born
but had to leave at 15
takes the onus of her, for
belonging to that country
but still not promising
to give her
freedom
to live, laugh and write
on their own soil.

The girl fled away from
her own country
to gain freedom
The free country
with so many educated
men and women
is still enslaved.

A bullet hit in head
can target to take a life
but there is some power beyond
that promises to save by
overpowering cowardice
and providing another space
to breathe.

Poetry: In The Spur Of A Moment

In the spur of a moment, 
a discord between you and me, 
created ripples in the still water, 
generating rile for the whole life.


The whole universe is transformed 
from infinite love to negligible.

Is there another chance
to revive it back 
and survive?

Poetry: Chapter Of That Book Called My Life

                                                                                  

Empowerment, liberty, freedom,
learning, free mind and mindful
were the words I would have wished
to be part of first chapter of that book
titled as "My Life"
and the first chapter
titled as "My Childhood".
Instead the words that got 
imprinted were totally different
and reverse.

Some books are printed only 
as single copy
and single edition.

No Addendum
No Correction
No Reprint
No excuses for misprint.

Best thing is
to focus on
next chapter of that book
where the pages
are still blank
and ready to
inked with
words.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.