Ode to an old friend - Hamzah Gayasuddin

Ode to an old friend.

I envy the light that touched his face

I envy the water that met his feet

Of pearls and stones that found him too,

I envy the open-wide beach he went into.

I envy the men and women who crossed his path

I’m jealous of the people who got his grace.

Of the tree, in whose shade, his form completely dazed

From the sun he was wholly protected.

And with his truth and kindness, empathy

I wish if someone could love me

Like they heartily loved him,

When I worshipped God, nearer was the face of him

And I prayed and prayed and my call was answered

‘Be his friend’ said the voice of God

Yet it seemed to be something suspicious

‘The world is not one jot’ as I said so it occurred,

Perhaps a thought we both shared together

That I loved and respected him as a brother

But only if he could see that I was his brother from another mother.

To you, my friend

We share a love that bonds us together

Like two paths that always cross together,

Our friendship, like an unbroken rope

Your face, like a shiny ray of hope.

Your voice always gives me courage

To stand up for what’s right without a tiny jot of regret,

And to banish all wrongs, you are right beside me

I’ll always be there for you, that’s a promise from me.

Oh, to you, my friend

Wherever you are, you are in my heart

How far will you go? We can never be poles apart.

I see the moon in clear blinding night

For the moon resembles your face that did shine bright

To never forget the friendship that once we shared

I remember your face, for you won’t be there,

You would be long gone

I already can’t bear

Rest assured, come back home

For I’ll be there, my friend, I’ll be there.

I but my father JABBER!- Rajal RAJPUROHIT

I wake up in the morning to music pop,

But my father JABBER wakes up in the morning to jog.

I sit with calm,

But my father JABBER sits counting money on his palm.

I weave my dreams out of several threads,

But my father JABBER is busy earning bread.

I am glad it is Sunday,

But my father JABBER even on Sunday works for extra pay.

I always have a bowl full of ice cream,

But even if the bowl is empty my father JABBER never screams.

I clearly share what I feel,

But when it comes to my father JABBER he really conceals.

It's a mystery,

But at the same time a legacy and history.

Children only grow,

When father's love pour.

SO I always say,

"I but my father JABBER!"

She- Shweta Rai

She is a candle

Not because she melts and lights,

but as she is calm and serene.

She is a soothing breeze

in sultry summers.

When there is no respite

in her only presence, one delights.

She is a streak of sunlight,

on a chilled day,

When sun is the mildest and playing hide and seek.

She is the only warmth on an indifferent winter day.

Behold, she has been wronged!

Now she has transformed into a tumultuous storm,

She is infuriated and devastates,

Crumbles seemingly ‘beautiful homes’

Shatters emotions, ‘love’ and desires,

Now she is a raging fire,

Riding on her fury

And compelling people to give up and comply.

Unstoppable, Fearsome, loud, and wild.

Here she comes!

Here she shines!

Here she rises as a Phoenix

From her own ashes!

Yes, she is none other than today’s woman.

She falls every day.

She balances every day.

She may not win but smiles every day.

Nevertheless, she combines the fragments of her heart and comes alive wholeheartedly.

Every day.

तो दुरावा | Manaswi Patil

सर्वात आवडता व्यक्ति,

सगळा लांब का बरं राहतो?

ते किलोमीटर मधला अंतर

मला नाही वाटत, मानत दुरावा आणतो.

रडताना खांदा द्यायला तू नाहीस

पण,फक्त एका कॉल मध्ये मला समजावतो,

तुझा त्या आवाजात काय जादू आहे ?

तो आवाज कायम माझा हृदयात असतो.

तू जेव्हा परत येतोस,

माझ्यासाठी दिवाळी सारखे सुख आणतोस.

तू ते थोडे दिवस दिलेला आनंदी,

पुढचे काही महिने हसायला शिकवतो.

तू सोबत असताना असते मी बेफिकीर,

तुझा हातात हात, खांद्यावर माझे डोके.

माझा डोळ्यात प्रेम, तुझा तो अलगद स्पर्श,

तू आहेस या विचाराने आयुष्य होते सोपं.

मला आवडते, तुझा केसांना विस्कटून टाकायला,

तुला पिडायला, तूला त्रास द्यायला,

तुझी चेष्टा करायला, अणि तुझे गाल ओढायला,

चिडायला,ओरडायला कधीच कधी मुद्दाम भाव खायला.

तू जेव्हां जातोस, ते दुःख कागदावर व्यक्‍त होणार नाही,

तुझा कुशीत जाऊन मान मोकळ रडून,

तुला प्रेमाने काळजी घे सांगुन,

हरवले मी त्या शेवटचा मिठीत अणि तुझा आठवणीत.

पण मला माहिती आहे आपण आहोत एकमेकांसाठी,

लांब असलो तरी मान आहेत जुळलेली,

माझा तुझ्यावरचा प्रेम अफाट आहे,

तुला परत भेटायची मी वाट बघत आहे.

Abstract Dissonance | Ashish Bandral

The World is Abstractly Dissonant

With No Conscience and Sense

A Symphony of Chaos and Pain

Where I Will Find My Way Again?

My Persona is

Cognitively Dissonant

Sort of a

Diabolical Imprisonment

Through all this

Scourging Resonance

That's Deploring

My Whole Temperament

Yantra full of

Tantra- Mantra Meant

Bam! Such a

Sham full Predicament

Prying Solely

On Love Molly Semblance

Dying Slowly

in One Holy Sentiment

Ramble Thoughts

Gout me Shambled

In The Temple

Babble Taut

Sample for Most

of the Rabble

Cannibal Impulses

Trussed up

like "Hannibal"

Parable Processes

Confessed

Make it Bearable

Appearances Deceives,

Perceived Like

Shenanigans

Applause ,Eulogies

Deprived in

My Philosophies

"Socrates" Hypothesis,

"Camusian" Anomalies

Applies Everyone's

Prophecies

Deviates Anyone

Proxy- Cease

Racing Thoughts

took a Shot of

Snorting Jolts

Tracing Faults

Shook Gunshot

Waging Colts

Cross in Moss

at its own Loss

Flossing like a

" Chaucer's" Boss

Across without

an Applause

Pause my Flaws

"Kerouacian" Thoughts

Spontaneously Fellating

Streaming of Consciousness

Cunnilingus "Miller-esque"

Scandinavian Lovey-Dovey

Feeling like A Hellion

After Creating

this Bionic

"Bullet Ballet" Sway "Aion"

Rhymes Going

Bombastic

Ballistic,

Feeling Autistic

Needs Someone

Psychologically

Analytic

Hate Living life Around

Pathologically

Altruistic

Halfway Turning Into

A Vulnerably

Narcissistic

Personality Schizoidically

Highly

Idiosyncratic

Spokely Unequivocally

Mildly

Perspicacious

Repetitive Rhyming

Schemes

Starts to Sounds

a bit

Pathetically Belittling?

Aesthetically Diminishing?

Still Got More

Depth and Flavors

These Crap

Writing Writers

Already Been Shitting!

Frustration what

Leading To

My Thoughts Creation

Hoping For

Some Kinda Liberation,

Emancipation

From All

Social, Political

Restraints And Restriction

Formulation of These

Shallow Rhyming

Situation

Dichotomize by my

Ambiguous Amalgamation

Really Need Some

Peace of Mind

Should get Some

Reserpine

For Bouncing

of This Building

Tension And Agitation

Don't Wanna be

Devoid of

Empathy and Emotion

What Would Turn

out to be

If I Aint have it?

Moody?, Gloomy?

Depressed?,Paranoid?

Like a Regular Listener

Of Radiohead's

Paranoid Android?

Dried of Life,

Cried to Die

Suicide's the New Pride?

Juvenile I am

in Your Eyes?

But Truth Lies

in Disguise

I Nullify

With My Rhymes

Breakin it Out

with My New Jive

True Life is

Being Who Am "I"?

Not The One That

Lies Or Died..

It's What you Dreamed

in your Mind!

Ending This

Rambling Rhyme

Grind Side

Which is my

New Style

Truth or Lie?

You Decide

I Don't Mind

if it's Prophesied

Not too Blind

or Suprised

Of Your Shallow

Grandiose Mind

To Justify

What I Write

It's Kind of

A Pie

I Like it

Combined In Flavors

That Defines

My Appetite

Heavily Entwined

in My

Comically Cancerous,

Chronic Chic Mannerisms

Ad-Libs Abstract Dissonant Light!

Rainbow Coloured Wounds | Samira Bhayana

Held back by the shackles of society,

His love was masked with depression and anxiety.

From hidden glances to subtle affection,

His love was pure but worth correction.

For love like this was utterly forbidden,

A love like this must stay hidden!

Disapproving eyes and a judgemental gaze,

“You’re not IN love, it’s JUST a phase.”

Bitter words and cheeky conversations,

But the bitterness would fade as if lost in translation.

The shackles held tight but their love was profound,

By a fierce passion, the two were sealed and bound.

I’d always wonder why in a country so “progressive”,

The laws, so broken, and the thinking, oppressive.

It baffles me I say, you say it baffles you too,

How love is love, but with an exception- or a few.

How a girl can cross a street holding hands with a boy,

But gazes are drawn when two boys are being coy.

When it comes to drugs and war and rape,

Laws and policies begin to shape.

But a human right taken away so coldly,

How can a country work so bleakly yet boldly?

Where equality is concerned something’s terribly missing,

This pledge for equality is not worth dismissing.

Why did we let ourselves be taught,

Who to love and who to not?

Love is an experience and a human right,

Not a lifelong battle you live to fight.

People are people despite their parts,

What truly matters is the love in our hearts.

Bukowski- Manas Malik

When Charles Bukowski said, I don't like anything, I guess he meant he doesn't like me.

I am aware that this is way too much narcissism. I am like that on good days, funny, arrogant, and intelligent and then I talk about how beautiful movies are.

Especially the ones I watched with you, there is something about those memories, it's like you see a rainbow and you love it so much that it starts appearing every day, or a sticky note that you left on your wall and you resist to taking it out,

the wall isn't going anywhere, nor is your handwriting, nor are these memories.

You see on bad days I don't like these memories, I wish to paint my walls and never look at the sky, I shut my TV like someone would hear the sound and would want to talk to me, I am going to hate that as well. I am not even going to eat the mangoes you sent from your dad's farm, plus I'm avoiding milkshakes too.

Is it Bukowski?

Did he not like me, does he always not like things or is it just good and bad days?

I like mangoes though, I love the idea of mangos, I had a milkshake in the morning, probably at 2 am.

I was reading something and didn't like it, like most things. It's not some writer from the past, it's you.

अभिव्यक्ति पर हिंसक घेरा- Somya Singh

आज बेबसी ने बेबाक़ी को घेरा है,

आज उजाला भी क्यों लगे अँधेरा है,

है इंसानों ने इंसानों पर फंदा कसा,

और अमन को लाल रंग में रंगा,

आज लाठियों से गूँजी अराजकता है,

आज उजाला भी क्यों लगे अँधेरा है,

है चुप्पी में भागेदारी मना,

हाथों पर हम सब के है ख़ून लगा,

आज जनतंत्र पर कलंक बनी निराशा है,

आज उजाला भी क्यो लगे अँधेरा है,

है हैवानियत ने इंसानियत पर शिकंजा कसा,

अभिव्यक्ति और सुरक्षा का है सवाल बड़ा,

आज संवैधानिक आदर्शों को याद रखना है,

आज उजाले को नहीं बनने देना अँधेरा है।

Whispers in the rain- Rohit Khandelwal

In the city's heart, where neon lights gleam,

Vihaan sat late, lost in a coder's dream.

With Aarav he spoke, in room thirteen's glow,

Outside, raindrops danced, putting on a show.

A bolt from the blue, a mug meets its fate,

Memories of Tara, a promotion's date.

Aarav’s worried gaze, "Stay the night," he said,

But home's pull was strong, where dreams often led.

With keys left behind, and time's fleeting hand,

Vihaan's heart raced, fate had something planned.

Elevator’s jolt, a moment's despair,

Yet onward he went, with nary a care.

At the gateway paused, rusted gates resist,

The world's subtle signs, too many to list.

Music in the air, lightning’s eerie song,

Distorted tunes, where shadows belong.

At the crossroads stood, two paths lay ahead,

One old, one renewed, one filled with more dread.

The river’s dark edge, where old tales reside,

Vihaan chose that path, with time as his guide.

Two cars intertwined, one eerily same,

Darkness cloaked the truth, in night's quiet game.

Yet morning light broke, sounds of sorrow deep,

Unseen, unheard, Vihaan’s soul did weep.

White robes, silent cries, a scene all too stark,

Vihaan stood adrift, in grief's shadowed park.

His face, his own eyes, staring from a frame,

Whispers in the rain, life's never the same.

Writer's Block- Nitesh Parmar

he problem is, that I just don't know

What to think and how to write,

Maybe the paper is not smooth enough

Am I holding the pen right?

Just then it struck my mind

That I have got to get my peice published

So you get it? It should be good

Not some random rubbish!

Okay I will write about a superhero

who wears on his suit an underwear!

Is something wrong with me?

I guess I have seen him somewhere...

Then let's think about something abstract

Like how about a dentist practioner on a volcano!

Well, I guess if not maybe my body

But my mind is surely a tornado!

But I am an artist

thinking is my job

So I got to wrte something as clear as sky

and as closer to a heart throb!

But actually honestly speaking guys

this job is no fun

Otherwise there is greenery in my brain

But no ideas, all dried under the sun!

I think I should clear my mind

Take a walk around listen to music and all

But seriously, If I get earphones in my ears

All I get is a grievous fall!

Now since I have nothing to do

Random thoughts wll cross my mind,

What if my heart beats fast enough

will it be ready for wheat to grind?

What if I save a girl from goons

But instead, her sister falls in love with me!

Like how would electricity taste?

I tell you, completely taste less, you see?

But you know, otherwise I am very strong

Inside and outside, hard as a rock!

But this time..umm..er..can't you guess??

It's the dreaded writer's block!

Yes even for me sometimes it becomes

intolerable, you know, writer's block and stuff

But haven't you noticed one thing?

Duh!! I have still written enough!

Where am I? | Prarthana R

Where did I start?

Where will I go?

Whole or in part,

Broken in my soul

Faces and sounds

Spotlight everywhere

Posture and capture

Happiness or despair

The aimless laughs,

the tearful notes;

The artful crafts,

the angry rogues

News graced the views;

Truth became a story.

Reason, a feeling

Life, a pursuit of glory.

Purpose was snatched

Fame, prescribed.

Alas! As it fetched,

Hollow and empty, inside.

Stumbling across the net,

Unable to hold on,

“The best isn’t here yet!”

Scrolling on to the next, coming upon!

नज़र - गनेश पटेल

नज़र को मेरी एक

तेरी नजर मिल गई

रफ्ता रफ्ता

जिंदगी हसीन हो गई।

नज़र ही नज़र में

कुछ ख्वाब जन्मे

तिनका तिनका कर

आशियाने के तार जुड़ गए।

नज़रों को हमारी

किसी की नजर लग गई

आशियाने के तिनके में

किसी ने तीली रख दी।

अपनी ने ही मारी थी

पहली फूक

धू धू करके

प्रेम हवेली जल गई।

अफ़सोस के लिए भी

इजाजत नही दी

गरम राख पर ही

दूसरी नींव रख दी।

दुश्मन बना दिए गए

एक दूजे की जान के

मलमल में लपेटकर

लोग खंजर भी दे गए।

जिस बगीचे में खिले थे

वो फूल प्यार के

कुछ लोग उसमे

पलास के फूल बो गए।

आज भी रो रहा है

वो दरख़्त जिस पर

सिर रख कर हमने

ख्वाब बुने थे।

जिंदगी तो चल पड़ीं थी

गनेश आज भी वही खड़े थे

किसी पंछी ने डाले होंगे

बीज उस दरख़्त के कोटर में

दो नन्हे पौधे आज फिर

झाक रहे थे।

लेखक

गनेश पटेल

In Search of Beauty | Kausalya Saptharishi

I emerged from my mother’s womb,

long and crumpled like a purple ribbon,

the colour of an overcast inky sky

People tittered: She is not like her mother,

Beautiful like early dawn or luminous like saffron milk

She is so dark, they whispered

It’s a pity—to be coffee-hued is her blemished destiny

The older I grew, the darker I got

And there was no respite from people’s barbs

She is the colour of brinjal, said some

No, no, make that fried brinjal, giggled the fairer ones

I stared hard at the mirror and truth stared back at me

There was no denying the colour of my skin

That defined me, robbed me of my true identity

A lover may have described it as silken mahogany

Or the amber shadows of falling dusk

But, alas, there was no lover in sight

Only acid tongues from where the barbs fell thick and fast

Soon it was time to find a man for me

Wanted: fair, fair, fair!

Screamed matrimonial ads

Fair in four weeks, promised fairness creams

I tried them all, but in vain

for my skin tone obstinately remained the same

Is she fair? asked boys’ parents

Err…no, but she is slim, said mine with hope

But we want tall, slim and fair, they insisted

While their mocha-coloured son blandly looked away

with fantastical dreams of a different bride

Repeatedly I got rejected

in the arranged marriage ruckus

Like damaged goods strewn on a factory floor

Or failed recruits shown the door

One day I broke down

and to the heavens cried:

Are only fair damsels welcome in this world?

Is dark not beautiful, for you made me?

Tell me, oh God, answer me!

A divine voice spoke in my dreams:

I created you my child for the world to see

What great beauty lies in darkness too

The moon shines brighter in a raven sky

And there will be no day without night

If there is no black

Can chalk be seen?

If there is no granite

Temple goddesses shall not be

If not for coal

Where will white diamonds be?

A slithering dark snake

is a thing of beauty

it evokes power, and contains mystery

Of all my creations on this earth,

You count amongst the most beautiful

For there are fair maidens aplenty I know

But rare, like black pearls, are dark ones like you

If you are ridiculed for being dark

The problem lies with them, and not you

So banish this thought from your head

And be proud of your ebony skin instead!

I awoke from my dream and ran to my Mother

Tell me, are you sad for having a dark daughter like me?

She embraced me in her warm sari folds and said:

It’s only the world that sees you through coloured lens

For a Mother’s eyes know no colour, my child

When I first laid eyes upon you,

You were more resplendent than the seven seas

I’ve told you before, I'll tell you again:

Why do you need to be fair

When your skin is already like burnished gold?

Why then, Mother, do men reject me?

Does my worth rest on my complexion only?

Remember, my child,

The man who’ll finally claim your hand

Will have the keen eye of a jeweler

And the wisdom of an ancient tree

He’ll know to pick the rarest of gems

From the assembly line clutter of fair ones

Finally it all made sense to me

Beauty is not always ivory

It can also be ebony

Dark is beautiful, dark is honey

Dark is beautiful, dark is me

Mirage | Heena Verma

Been scattered,I've been scared before

Can't bare anything, can't deal anymore

Rose from the ashes of my dead

Aftermath things now trigger my head

I don't want to feel that very way again

My insecure mind now deliberately chooses pain

I get back to where i rose through

All the false i experience

The distrust, the untrue!

Take me back to who i was

My breath trembles trapped in walls

When it felt i reached the end

Rope elongates , new hells are send

Thirsty i roam, find water in a glass

Thirsty i remained, it prooved a mirage!

My body feels numb, my mind is shook

Will there ever be a way ?

To exit this infinity loop!

Frost- Anoushka Sharan

Inspired by The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost. Suggestion: Read The Road Not Taken before reading my version. It contains references to the lines.

Frost.

At the end of this road is my home.

You can see it too.

Squint your eyes a little, adjust your hand over your head, paint your vision with a tinge of blue.

and there you go,

beyond the caviar of trees, the hawks, the fleece,

within a mile is the silhouette of my house,

in my home’s debris.

You’re welcome to join me for a cup of coffee,

if only you trust me.

As you walk,

beware of the bushes and the thorns,

people say they turn poisonous at the break of dawn.

The trees filter the sun rays,

The yellow, dying wood, looks like gold in the middle of May.

The air, (you’d find me gasping for the most)

harbours the union of triumph and yearning,

for a shelter to call ours.

A journey, maybe without scars. A stretch, towards home and not the stars.

The path, laid with stones that sing

of times flown, forgotten, unknown:

The free might, the longest night, the bloodiest sight, the strength in fight.

You walk past the lane

Of music, cavalry, amidst Jane

when you breathe and the air stops

when you scream and your throat bleeds,

when you begin to see the bodies of who you must have been,

when you pick up your feet but they stay grounded

when you shiver but your body is mounted

that’s when you’ve hit my territory.

There is no going back,

I took the road less travelled by, you see.

And so did you.

I am entirely gold for them | Sonali Semwal

I am dipped in gold.

I am exquisite for them.

Now their colonies come

and try to scrape the gold off my skin.

They use their knives and blades to get that gold.

They are not quite done there,

they need more.

They return with new tools

and this time to hammer my bones

a big piece of me they take away,

a big piece of gold.

They tell other men,

now they want too.

They are not kind either, no knives and no hammers

they have got a vicious greed this time.

And peel by peel,

layer by layer,

and chunks of me they break.

What do I do?

I am not dipped in gold, for as we thought

I am entirely gold for them.

The gold that I never asked for.

The gold that we are.

Women you will have to protect your gold.

This time take a dip

in blood

in molten iron

in flaming fires

in frozen seas

in your own cries.

Make yourselves strong, unforgiving and fierce.

This will hide the beauty well.

This will conceal the gold.

The gold that we never asked for.

The gold that we are.

The Shape of Anger- Reshma Joel

And there goes bound by the squared walls of the mind,

Boiling to a degree higher than it should be,

It refused to display sangfroid,

You could hear the mind ticking,

Echoing minutes seemed like years,

The mind was as pressured as it was,

Yet you could do nothing about it,

The squared box of the mind kept fuming,

For reasons some known and others unknown,

The churned emotion ready to vent,

To a greater length as it had to be,

There you tried diverting the angered strokes of the mind,

You took hold of the grip,

You let it mellow as it could,

The roaring anger had a halt,

The vent lowered,

Just as the pressure of the mind simmered,

The mind calmed to a dot,

And the calm evoked within.

ज़िंदगी और मैं | Sukhdeep Singh

क्यों इम्तिहान ले रही है ज़िन्दगी, परेशान है क्या

अपनों को तोड़ रही है, मोड़ रही है, नादान है क्या

और भी हैं कई मुद्दे हमें सताने के लिए

अपनों को यूँ आज़माना, आसान है क्या

क्यों रातों को आजकल तुझे नींद नहीं आती

किसी गैर के साथ है, या किसी की याद है सताती

तेरा दोस्त ही तो हूँ, मुझसे बात तो कर

या फिर, ये दर्द, ये आंसू, तेरा सामान है क्या

बहुत मुद्दत हुई, तुझसे ठीक से बात नहीं हुई

मसरूफ थी मुझे सताने में, कभी मुलाक़ात नहीं हुई

ये भागना, ये दौड़ना, ख्वाब देख उन्हें तोड़ना

मुझसे दूर रह कर जीना, किसी का फरमान है क्या

आ पास बैठ, साँस ले, अपना हाल तो बता

खुल के बात कर, पर्दा हटा, राज़ तो बता

सब्र कर, हौसला रख, हिम्मत न छोड़

वक़्त बदलेगा, एक जैसा रहना उसका काम है क्या

तू मुझस है, मैं तुझसे हूँ, जानती है न

इस रिश्ते को समझ, हम एक हैं, पहचानती है न

चल फिर दोस्त बनते हैं, मुस्कुराते हैं, साथ चलते हैं

इन सैलाबों को पार करना, कोई मुश्किल काम है क्या