My Prodigal Friend | Jyotsna Jha

After it seemed you’d never visit me again

You are back once more, my prodigal friend!

You visited the bumbling child, the blushing bride, and the lover,

And your most beautiful smile you saved for the mother

You raised a toast to all that is lost

Yet ignored the feast from your present host

Mysterious and inexplicable

Somewhere between too much and too little

An elusive bird, known only to the quiet wait,

A brief brilliance before you’re gone again!

You evaded the old man who seeks you the most

And went about knocking unwelcoming, strange doors

I’ve learnt my learning, to be worth your while

For there is no accounting for you, or your ministrations

Happiness, I’m content to receive a trifling from you

Even though you’ve squandered a fortune somewhere else.

In the blink of an eye- Vishakha Gupta

Tracing the rim of his glass

Like brushing his thumb across my lips

Lost eyes boring over pools of amber swirls

Like drowning in my depths as the end would just begin

Women at the bar, blur all but one

Looking as beautiful as that night wen we were young

Wild hair and full of laughter

Hand in hand dancing the night away

Travel and adventure was all we had in sight

A tryst in the pub alley led to LIFE

Welcoming our first born was a blessing in disguise

What came after was a house full of smiles

In the blink of an eye fifty years gone by

The noise the cries the clutter the fights

The laughter...and now the quiet..

Quiet as my eyes only find hers

Music in my ears leading towards her

Crowd cheering us on, the family we made

Hand in hand we dance the night away!

Hidden Treasures | Ayesha Faisal

I sit on the rough patch beneath,

Gazing at the raging waves crashing upon the unyielding caves,

Seemingly loud but silent,

Yearning to voice the unseen.

Perhaps, it wants the world to see; to flourish,

And wishes to flow in a near utopian world

Where its efforts are not left in vain.

For its gargantuan hands can help anyone, but never itself.

Gleaming gems adorn the gloomy night,

Floating about, showcasing their underlying might,

They are ignored by many, yet beauty they spread ;

Perhaps, it is accustomed to worldly ignorance that overshadows life.

For its gargantuan hands can help anyone, but never itself.

Trudging from the rocky wilderness that envelops me,

I look above at the oh-so wide expanse of dark blanket,

Then below at the bright-lit murky waters,

And whoosh! I am hit- with a wave of wonders

As to how fortunate the ants of the universe are,

Bearing limitless capabilities; quite often illuminated.

Yet, we cease to see our potential

And fails to see the guiding lights that awaits to be noticed.

Cause amidst the chaos of human strife,

We often neglect the true existing life.

But if we take a second to notice the world’s truth,

We can easily gain the tree’s best fruit.

For our gargantuan hands can help anyone, including ourselves.

Life lessons- Ikla Subba

When you catch yourself rushing for life lessons

preparing yourself to feel ready

and trying to forsee your mistakes

Remember that life has its own clock

and life lessons come on time

not before, not after

And sometimes

mistakes happen when it is supposed to

not before and not after

Fly Away Cheering | Akanksha Govil

orange hues of the sky

darkening to bright red

as the sun was saying bye

to a day well spent

running though the sky

lights bright and yellow

strung together beautifully

one row after another

you were there too amongst them

held there by a solitary thread

lit bright, gleaming secretly

catching my eye time and again

wind was on a merry go round

you were hopping up and down

dancing merrily to the lovely tune

of the music playing softly

do you desire to fly away

or reach high in the sky

or take a dip in water salty

or kiss the sun a final good bye

seeing you enjoy your company

brought me so much delight and joy

you were you, with no inhibition

making the best of your situation

one day you will fly free, surely

soar to where you are mean to be

nothing will deter you in your journey

you are enough as you, for you, fully

My mightiest woman- Rakshitha Reddy

ave you delved into

what lies through the veil of her blissful smile?

Do you even know what her pages read?

Do you wish to walk through and catch the scent of the mud on her path?

Do you envisage her silence and twig the tongue of her eyes?

Do you gather her angst and bother to take up cudgels for her?

Do you have any guts to take a leap into the depths of her darkness?

Do you sense that vigor, shrouded in her loud words?

Do you intuit her will, conveyed through her sneaking actions?

Do you have any resilience to bear the tonnage of her thoughts?

Can you grasp the speech of feathered friends?

Or can you comprehend the hints a storm conveys?

Can you gauge the depth of a sea or

measure the night's profound absence of light?

Her language is that difficult,

and her thoughts that tough.

Her path is that different,

and her fervor knows no bounds.

She is my mightiest woman! My Goddess!

If your weapon is a sharp knife, beware of her glistening eyes.

If your arrow is an abuse, pay attention to her stoned heart.

If your venom is tearing her soul apart, she knows how to stitch it back.

If your bullet strikes her heart, she knows how to mend the wound.

She embodies patience, and her resilience knows no defeat.

Her steps can span millions of miles, and her tears could fill countless oceans.

She is a complete soul, everything within her radiating wholeness.

And she is my mightiest woman! My Goddess!

She possesses the strength of a tempest and the grace of a soft breeze.

Her heart cradles a million emotions, each yearning for release;

and if they were to burst out,

they could fill all the voids in the world.

And she is my mightiest woman! My Goddess!

Her love, when showered upon you, can engulf you,

while her revenge has the power to devastate the world.

Her patience is a trial of cosmic movements,

and her anger can trigger the evaporation of oceans.

Her courage, should she desire it, could claim the moon and return it.

She can both stumble and recover like a lioness.

She can both cry and brighten the world with her smile.

She can be both vulnerable and incredibly powerful.

That’s my mightiest woman! My Goddess!

Enigmatic Echoes | Maullik Sharma

Like a fearless moon that weeps on lonely nights,

You don't possess sorrow, just shimmering lights.

No profound purpose, merely celestial art,

Yet you inquire of me, a curious heart.

I'd say enigmatic suits you quite well,

In a realm of mysteries where secrets swell.

Curved constellations, a cosmic ballet,

Within the vast tapestry of Milky Way.

In the interstellar dance of time and space,

Invisible hands perform an endless chase.

Amidst the void, a yearning undertone,

To fathom truths concealed, yet to be known.

A realm where quarks and atoms intertwine,

Beneath the surface of life's grand design.

Particles waltz, an intricate display,

In the symphony of existence they play.

A digital age, where screens hold our gaze,

Interactions hidden, lost in a daze.

Silent voices whisper through the pixel haze,

A world of connections in a virtual maze.

Pending, a future undefined, untold,

Where stories unfold, and mysteries enfold.

In this silent era, we stand suspended,

Awaiting the next chapter, the world's mended.

Is this more?- Shalu Kumari

With that beautiful rainbow in my thoughtful eyes,

droplets of rain were uniting earth and sky,

An unexpected question with its cold breeze,

made my mind and soul completely freeze.

There are some hearts with grief at its core,

So the pain of my scratch, is this more?

Feelings of sympathy filled my heart,

when she spoke to me with her scarf unwrapped.

A shattered person was what i expected,

but her firm handshake conveyed, it was courage she selected.

She didn't fear the eyes staring at her,

because the acid burnt her skin, not her soul.

Her smile was the sunshine in her life,

the strength she wore made me feel alive.

She misses herself with every knock at her door,

so my pain of missing someone else, is this more?

A chaotic environment was what my camera captured,

but my eyes stopped at a dishevelled woman with her screams unheard.

Her face left expressions and mouth was gagged,

when her son came wrapped in the nation's flag.

She cried hard with tears of pride,

her salute to that sacrifice left my spirit untied.

With every heartbeat she died,seeing her son lying still on the floor,

so my pain of unsatiated desires, is this more?

History, Huh! | Parul Hunnargikar

There's a thunder of hooves

Outside my house.

The roar of applause

Descends on me.

I hear them shouting, "History, huh!

What does it care about you and me?"

It is a bizarre truth, is it not?

Ever since I was a tiny tot,

I've heard about knights and kings.

About their good deeds, the bard sings.

But about the little guy no one knows;

The little guy died for you and me.

I hear them roar, "History, huh!

How will you repay the queens?

And the victims of false justice,

And the war's prisoners,

And the wives and the children,

Will you pay them all in billions?"

I agree with the saying I once heard-

'Silent women seldom make history.'

Why, History, do you forget them?They keep the world revolving.

Without these silent women, tell me,

History, would you keep evolving?

I think about how History conveniently

Manages to many a times just forget-

To record our miniscule victories,

Just like it forgets about our miseries.

So I say, "History, huh! Indeed,

It does not care about you and me."

But I know the truth, and so do they,

Without us, what would History be?

Our misfortunes keep it running;

We are the ghost writers, the worker bees.

So we also yell, "History, huh!

Whatever would you be without me?"

Scent of a Poem- Yash Shukla

Sometimes I swear I can smell a poem.

Some have in them top notes of a brewing coffee, mixed with the smell of drying ink, with a base of moldy paper heaps.

I can smell the dawn break on the poet's table; just a strip of enraged dust, floating unrestful in the otherwise dark and damp air.

Some smell like petrichor,

drops of anguish, sprinkled on dead tree trunks,

in a burning wildfire.

At times I smell the old hanging skin,

rubbing against paper, exposing time's toll.

The smell of wisdom, or that of a wasted life.

There are the pungent ones, that smell of a rotting soul, of blood, or a decayed existence, leaving a queasy unrest. It's an acquired taste, I suppose!

And if one really tries, it's hard to miss the middle notes on a few- of cold suppressed air, gasped between words, that attaches itself to you till you decide to wash it off.

Some don't carry a smell at all.

The smell, lost or absorbed, in indented pages, left unattended.

Impressions of a stain reminding of the oil once potent.

And like an addict,

I return to breathe, if only for a while,

the scent of a poem, that stayed,

long after their words could survive.

The Beloved | Pratika Sanyal

If I wish to write a poem on thee,

The words prior to you seems unworthy.

When I want to compare thee with nature,

It lost its entity o beautiful creature.

Thy innate selfdom as the cupid's personification,

A man as verse in his inamorata's imagination.

Gazing of those sensual and animate eyes,

Like the moth making flowers bloom in disguise.

In the nectar of thy temperate amour,

Nymphs get drenched to carve their mamour.

My longings for thee accept no boundaries,

Since you are the redressal of all quandaries.

Where on the earth everything is thine,

But in the paradise you will be mine.

Anger and Ice Cream | Naziya Khan

It’s a room full of two

Two feels a lot, heavy

Heavy is victim who is entitled

Entitled is victim of all demons

Demons, take up the space here

Here, in our home, not so close are we

We, father and mother are taken up all by anger

They shout not for, to be heard by rest

They scream not for, to be understood

But to, to shut and lock what’s free

And there she was, in the corner

Holding the melting ice-cream,

Melting her childhood laughs

Innocent, to be fed and caressed

So it wasn’t a room of just two

For they couldn’t see the being

and third never left the room

neither, the room left the third

and anger melted the ice-cream

Optimists- Ananya Choudhury

Many had been fore warned

About the burdens of expectation.

Many will be warned in the future

About the horrors of blind faith.

At yet at this moment

Very many brave souls continue to hope,

Sincerely hope that their burden will

Remain no more;

That it'll be relived by a godly vision

That'll prove far better than their own.

Dreamers dream,

They don't care for the time of the day

Or of the possible dangers

Of dreaming too far.

Writers write

At dawn break or at the end of the night

They care not for food or sleep,

Only fuel for their minds.

Lovers love,

Knowing full well what's at stake.

Walk the slippery slope

All the same.

आँसू- Sandeep Sharma

आँखों से निकले लेकर ये आस,

बुझ जाएगी मन की प्यास

स्रोत इनका दिल की गहराई

न जाने कितनी भावनाएँ इनमें समाई

खुद में सागर सा स्वाद लिए

पीड़ाओं की लहरों का उबाल लिए

मन की वेदनाओं का विषाद लिए

पुराने ज़ख्मों की याद लिए

चल दिए अपने सफ़र पर

कुछ टपक गए गालों से

कुछ सिमट गए होठों पर..

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“ आकाश रो रहा है, बादल हुए हैं लाल

सूखी पड़ी है धरती, पर भीग गए ये गाल

ऐसी परिस्थिति देखी नहीं थी पहले

बरसात में भी देखो पड़ गया है अकाल ”

“ मैं तो सो रहा था, ख्वाबों में खो गया था

गीले गालों के साथ, मैं तो रो रहा था

प्यासा जी रहा था, आँसू पी रहा था

सभी ने किया पराया, कोई अपना ही नहीं था ”

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ये आँसू मेरे बहते, कहते, सहते हैं ऐसी बातें, इनको बहने से रोको ...

सही जो पीड़ा उर अंतर में, व्यक्त जो होगी

आत्मशक्ति थी जो अचेत, सशक्त जो होगी

सहमी थी जो वाणी कब से, अभिव्यक्त जो होगी

त्यक्त, विरक्त, समाज से त्रस्त, ये द्रवित नेत्र बहेंगे

इनको कहने से रोको ...

ये लावणिक आँसू वर्षा बरसाते लोचन

ये आंतरिक भोगी व्यथा से नापते योजन

ये शून्य अनंत व्योम में खोजे संकट मोचन

ये शोणित नेत्र में यज्ञ समिधा और अग्निशिखा है

इनको सहने से रोको ...

बहे जो आँसू अंतर्मन में आश्रय लिए थे

सहकर पीड़ा दुर्लभ मोती संचय किये थे

भावों को न व्यक्त करने का निश्चय किये थे

स्वयं के व्यूह जाल से निकले, बाँध तोड़ कर उमड़े

इनको बहने से रोको ...

पर पीड़ा से व्याकुल हो, कभी शब्द बाण से आहत

कुत्सा, अपमान, ग्लानि से कभी मिल पाए जो राहत

सुख में, दुःख में, कभी यूँ ही, बस बहने की लिए चाहत

रात के आँसू, ख़्वाब में आँसू, बिन कहे बहुत कहते हैं

इनको कहने से रोको ...

बहे किसी के साथ, कभी एकांत के आँसू

छल के कारण, कभी बहे संताप के आँसू

बिछड़ा कोई, कभी किसी की याद के आँसू

उसके सजल नयन की छवि बसी है स्वयं दृगों में

इनको सहने से रोको ...

बना बैठा था मैं अब तक उपहास का साधन

अट्टहास करते है वे, घबराता तन मन

व्यक्त करने से रोकता स्वयं को हर क्षण

आत्मग्लानि से भरे मन को अब हल्का हो जाने दो, ये आँसू बह जाने दो ...

ये आँसू मेरे बहते, कहते, सहते हैं ऐसी बातें, ये बहें, इन्हें बहने दो, ये कहें, इन्हें कहने दो ...

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Energy | Revant Soni

In an instant,

the celebrations,

had turned,

into gloom.

The drums,

announcing,

a marriage,

were stripped.

The song,

of death,

had needed,

no instrument.

In an instant,

a mishappening,

a singular event,

could turn heads.

Why then,

do heads,

not find a way,

to do the opposite?

If energy,

can destroy,

in a flick,

it can create.

And be created,

by little sparks,

that pass by,

every moment.

In an instant,

the gloom,

had ended,

and joy returned.

For death,

had died,

long enough,

to be set aside.

देवदासी- Jyoti Kiratkudve

अतीत के पन्नों पर

जब फिर से दस्तक दी मैंने

चिंख उठा ये मन मेरा, पर

मेरी आवाज ना सुनी किसी ने

बरसों से समाज में

चली आ रही उस

कुप्रथा का हिस्सा हूँ मैं

हां हां देवदासी हूँ मैं

धर्म के नाम पर पुरोहितों

ने किया मेरा शोषण

छीन लिया मुझसे मेरा

हसता खेलता बचपन

आज भी काँप उठता

रोम रोम मेरा, चीखकर

चीखकर ये कहता है

आज भी आँसू इन आँखों से बहता है

सभ्यता का नकली चेहरा

भगवान के नाम पर हमपर पेहरा

तोड़ भी नहीं सकती इन जंजीरों को

जगह जगह बैठा है आज भी लुटेरा

थी कभी, भगवान की पत्नी

आज मैं सबकी हवस मिटाती हूँ

देवदासी से नाम बदलकर

आज मैं वैश्या कहलाती हूँ

यही सच्चाई है मेरे जीवन की

धर्म के नाम पर शोषण होनेवाले

उन दलित समाज के बेटियों की

आज भी किलकारियाँ गूंजती है उनकी

पर समाज के इन अंधभक्तों ने

हमें भगवान के सहारे छोड़ दिया

और खुद को महान कहनेवाले

महंत ने हमारा अंग अंग निचोड़ दिया

जहन चिल्लाकर कहता है मेरा

आज भी वक्त है सुधर जाओ

बरसों से चली आ रही कुप्रथा से

बहुजनों की बेटिओं को बचाओं

Living in fear | Ayesha Jamal

Rain is the ‘Qasid’ of lord

That falls on the ‘chhat’ of every house

To tell them that ‘Nemat’ has been distributed equally

Amongst everyone

But the landlord of my city fears

That sun may rise from our jawline

And rainbow might be casted on the green walls of our house

They say like charges repel each other

So vibGyor can’t be synonymous to our smiles

But what if mirage appears wearing a ‘Burqa’ today

And tells people that

Unlike charges attract each other?

I am not the lover of mirage

I am a poet

And my crown doesn’t shine with diamonds and platinum

But with the pool of tears in my heart

That has been stranded there for so long

That it has become an ocean of ink

With which I paint eyelids over eyelids everyday

But is removed and washed like makeup every night

Maybe the nib of my pen is delicate

Like the blink of an eye

And the road to reality is too meshy

like the threads in my father’s skull cap

But don’t call me the enemy of rain

I am just an imprisoned poem

With a soul of peacock

Eager to stretch my wings and dance in the rain

Without thinking of the aftermath

Can wound ever refuse the caress of an ointment?

My poetry was born in July

But since future of mud puddles

In the streets of the ‘mohalla’ In which we live

Looked brighter than our dreams

And power cut lasts longer

Than the word ‘rights’ in our mind

Winter became its favorite season

My poetry doesn’t pluck flowers from the garden

Rather collect them from the cemetery of people

Whose only fault was ‘being a Muslim’

And now she doesn’t know what to do with all these bouquets

So I gift them to you

To each one of you

In hope that one day

When my child goes to school

He won’t come back like a withered ‘kali’

Wrapped in a shroud of fear

That one day when I wear black

And my brother wears white

We wouldn’t be declared

Murderers of colours

That one day when our dreams see a full moon

And our hearts fly higher Than ‘Oqaab’

Then it wouldn’t be bulldozed to ‘Eid ka chand’

My poetry grows from the seed of fear

That resides closer to us

Than the 'shahrag' of our body

It has changed the composition of our blood

Our body now contains 80% of water

The same water that sky reflects

And you say 'darr ka koi rang nahi hota'

(Fear doesn't have any colour)

So tell me then

What colour do you see When you look up to the sky?

अब और - और अब- Amogh Kant Mishra

अब और किससे तबियत बतलाएं हम,

अब और किसपर आँसू बहाएं हम,

अब और किसने हमसे पूछ लिया,

अब और किसे जवाब दे आएं हम?

अब और किसने हमें देखा हो,

अब और किसने फूल फेका हो,

अब और उसे किसने कुचल दिया,

अब और किसने मन सेका हो?

अब और कैसे सब सांझा करू,

अब और कैसे मैं रांझा बनु,

अब और क्या किस्मत का लेखा है,

अब और क्या गीत-बाजा करूँ?

और अब मैंने सब जाने दिया,

और अब बस हवा आने दिया,

और अब कोई गली पकड़नी नहीं,

और अब सब दर्द बह जाने दिया।

और अब क्या आलम हैं उनके,

और अब कौन है कहानी में उनके,

और अब मैं उसमे किरदार नहीं,

और अब नहीं मैं चुटकुले उनके।

और अब चाय भी ज़्यादा गर्म लगे,

और अब चारपाई भी खाली नर्म लगे,

और अब नज़र में केवल काम बसे,

और अब लगे तो उनको शर्म लगे।

Collateral Damage | Samiksha Deshpande

In a grave amidst the meadows,

Lay a stone in tranquil rest.

There walked a vengeful spirit,

He’d fulfilled his destined quest.

The soul hath raged in grief.

His life quelled by a friend,

But now he fondly strolled,

For that foe hath met his end.

Now, the spirit was not alone,

The field had lately filled.

In his quest for vengeance,

There’d been quite many killed.

The spirit came to a stop,

From a whispered, wailing din

Alas, the spirit faced,

His vengeance-driven sin.

There stood a team of doctors,

Red marred their garb of white.

A blade stuck in all their hearts,

They eyed the spirit in spite.

‘Bound, were we in duty.’

‘To heal your bloodied foe.’

‘In your vengeful battle,’

‘What evil did we sow?’

The spirit gasped in horror,

A hand slipped into his own.

Looked down to see a child,

Head cracked open with a stone.

‘Your foe was but your own,’

The child shed a lone tear.

‘I was but his mere work boy,’

‘What in me, caused you to fear?’

‘Ye served a ruthless fiend,’

The spirit snarled in a fit.

When a phantom cop emerged,

His neck marred by a slit.

‘Justice hears us all,’

Said the cop in mute despair.

‘Were our lives your ghastly message,’

‘Your threat, your powerful dare?’

The spirit knelt in burden,

His rest was not to last.

As his hated foe’s wife,

Joined the unrested cast.

‘You rest in avenged bliss,’

‘In just sunlight, you bask.’

‘What lives your vengeance took,’

‘Did you never care to ask?’

‘What sins did we commit?’

‘Who’s price must we thus pay?’

‘In your hunt for one man’s death,’

‘Must we all cease to see a new day?’

The spirit broke in tears,

As he saw the spoils of carnage.

His soul bristled, burned and quivered,

Under the eyes of collateral damage.

He turned to consolation,

Amidst the hostile premise,

After all he must rejoice,

At his foe’s vengeful demise.

His eye drifted past the unrested,

His ears drowned the wailing crowd.

For amongst the dead

He saw his foe in shroud.

The two turned to each other,

The foe looked him in the eye.

Said his vengeful sense of bliss,

Was a twisted, wicked lie.

‘You might lead me to demise,’

‘Yet peace is but a dream.’

‘Say how will you thus rest?’

‘With every wasteful dead man’s scream.’

The spirit had filled the meadow,

With stones of dead galore.

His rest had thus been marred,

He couldn’t sleep no more.

In a grave amidst the meadows,

Lay a stone, tranquil and white.

They say its spirit nightly wails,

With no redemption in sight.

ADULATORY WARRIORS- Rajan Ojha

They rise against this pandemic,

Some on roads, some in clinic

Risking their own for saving millions of lives,

At times being attacked by misleaded stones and knives!

Need for adulation of this creed philanthrope,

For they are in this dark, the rays of hope!

A virus entered the land of Ganga and Somnath,

Leaving ruthlessly behind; of dead, a path

Fighting this infectious malign,

Disinfecting its each and every sign

Each day they pray, they work hard,

For the healthy future of a nation they guard

Let’s cooperate with them,

In this tunnel so dark, they are a gleaming gem

They’re on war for days and nights,

Ever you see them passing by, hail these aproned-up knights

Please O Lord! Make this virus fade away.

Thanks O Lord! These Angels of Yours, stand between Us and the Doomsday!