COBBLE REMINDER- HARIKRISHNAN R

Recognition made easier by the sight of cobble

Assembled rubble all over the pavements in grandeur

Nothing but the way to the primary institution

Develop here the basements of young lads

Joiners have their foots with chary cry and anguish

Although they are admitted with the cause of progress

Not only for them but for their loved ones too

Started from roots, they grab to internalize aspects

Some of them find it easy but nobody began to gloomy

Intense harsh and making gung-ho among themselves

Few times also making a guffaw in the surroundings

For the hamlet, it is the primitive and model one

Sometimes along the way is filled with haze

Pupils gather and flow like a stream to the abode

Among them looks often in haute couture

Nobody there make hassles for this loved ones

Imparting a momentum all towards the locality

Immature pumpkins have their best out of them

Began to mature show off and become an idyll one.

Black, What is It? | Jassimmrat Kaur Bhatia

A colour, a memory, assigned

to the darkness. Eerie emptiness

of the soul. The thick smog of a factory,

the heaviness of a storm. It is in which

demons dress and scare young children.

Black, the cry of a wolf in the dead of the night.

It is perhaps a blood-curdling scream

stifled by utter silence.

Black is groping in the dark

reaching for

what is not there.

It is a nightmare screaming

at you to wake up.

Black is, perhaps, your lover’s hair.

The colour the sky bleeds

after the sun leaves,

full of stars. It is exploration.

Black is the entire universe for those who can’t see, it is

their sunlight, their rose petals, their favourite scenery.

Black is the colour of their mother’s face, their father’s

smile, their favourite record.

Or perhaps, it is the shade

of an old bruise

that started to mark.

It is the shade of the person that

beauty commercials deny. It is death

on a rainy day, shadows moving in

every way. Evil whispers through the night,

smells of rotting corpses in the hot sun,

loneliness surrounding someone.

They tell you to stay away from it, the black in the world.

They tell you stories: a dark soul alone in the world,

a scared little helpless girl.

Black roses surround your grave. Black is every feeling piled on

cancelling each other out

until nothing.

But when the light of the day is too much to bear,

Black is the cold hands welcoming you

Home.

Can't Wait -Vandana Pandey

Eyes wanna talk, but heart denied,

words are stuck, and throat occupied,

Tickling in nose, indicating I can't hold,

Others can be sad ,so I act little cold,

Food infront of me, is difficult to swallow,

Feeling I'm full, although everything hollow,

I'm surrounded by people, still so lone,

Have huge List of numbers , but that can't ring phone,

They don't know my pain, as I never say,

I just want to stay crowded, on my way,

Journey will be tough ,I knew from start,

Have decided to keep going, with smiling heart,

Life will be like this only, path will never be straight,

Shall Drag myself put together ,as for victory .....I can't wait.

OUR INDEPENDENCE - ESWARI INDRANI

In Reverence we gather to Commemorate

Our Triumphant Victory on this date!

Flipping thru the pages of History, seven and a half decades back

The happenings then.....as we track

Evidently, 'Twas our Indian Freedom's long struggle

Claiming thousands of lives in its battle,

Its endless sacrifice

Ultimately Winning its Prize !

With Non-Violence as ( our) its only tool,

Persevered and ended the British Rule,

Marking it.....75 years ago

In our Capital, Khan's music did echo !

YES.....India woke to Life at midnight

When, all the world slept.

Tri Colour was unfurled first

In 1947 at the Red Fort on 16th August !

Our National Flag and Our National Anthem

Will in every dutiful citizen

Surge their Patriotism !

JAI HIND!!!

ESWARI INDRANI

ਗ਼ਜ਼ਲ | Roohie Singh

ਉਹਦੇ ਉਗਮਣ ਦੀ ਗੱਲ ਸੁਣ ਕੇ ਹੀ ਜੰਗਲ ਤਿਲਮਿਲਾ ਉੱਠਿਐ

ਜੀਹਨੂੰ ਸਦੀਆਂ ਤੋਂ ਦੱਬਿਆ ਸੀ ਉਹ ਕਿਸਰਾਂ ਲਹਿਲਹਾ ਉਠਿਐ।

ਹਿਜਰ ਵਿੱਚ ਬਲ਼ਦੀ 'ਰੂਹ' ਨੂੰ ਹੈ ਇਹ ਕੈਸੀ ਤਾਂਘ ਮਹਿਰਮ ਦੀ

ਕਿ ਦਸਤਕ ਦਰ 'ਤੇ ਹੋਈ ਹੈ ਤੇ ਸੀਨਾ ਥਰਥਰਾ ਉੱਠਿਐ।

ਕਿਸੇ ਕੋਈ ਸ਼ੇਅਰ ਇੰਜ ਪੜ੍ਹਿਐ ਜਾਂ ਮੇਰੇ ਈ ਆਉਣ ਦਾ ਸਦਕਾ

ਜੁ ਮਹਿਫਿ਼ਲ ਵਿੱਚ ਉਹਦਾ ਗ਼ਮਗੀਨ ਚਿਹਰਾ ਮੁਸਕੁਰਾ ਉੱਠਿਐ।

ਬੁਝੇ ਸਭ ਬਾਹਰ ਦੇ ਦੀਵੇ, ਜਦੋਂ ਝੁੱਲੇ ਸੀ ਝੱਖੜ ਪਰ

ਤਪੀ ਮੱਥੇ ਦੀ ਲੋਅ ਐਸੀ ਕਿ ਕਣ-ਕਣ ਜਗਮਗਾ ਉੱਠਿਐ।

ਅਜਬ ਹੈ ਗ਼ਜ਼ਲ ਦੀ ਧਰਤੀ, ਕਦੋਂ ਦੀ ਔੜ ਲੱਗੀ ਸੀ

ਤੇ ਹੁਣ ਇੰਜ ਵਰ੍ਹ ਰਿਹੈ ਜਿਉਂ ਪਾਣੀਆਂ ਵਿੱਚ ਜ਼ਲਜ਼ਲਾ ਉੱਠਿਐ।

Survivor- Richa Dixit

Title - Survivor

For the truth of existence,

To the belief of a miracle

Amidst of the chapters,

I slay through the raptures,

The context of survival,

brought me to the shore,

For the simplicity of soul ,

to the complexity of life

the warrior you are,

the master you are,

serendipity it all ends in,

fear cannot disguise,

Tough and Rough though it goes,

Moon to the sun it shows all,

Universe believes in you ,

The Survivor you are through !

The Survivor you are through !

By Richa Dixit

(Poem is based on the theme of Survival in various situations of life and moving ahead with wisdom

,i.e how life enables in us a warrior and a sage through its experiences and our belief in the divine positive light (God).

Also,How Universe and human beings are co-related and co-creators )

Women : The Best Creature by God | Akanksha Agarwal

The freckles on her

face, the most

shabby and

annoying traces,

she would hide

from the world.

Conceal her emotions

like bees

in the hive.

Fail to believe

in herself.

Never furnish

happiness and love,

always falsely

portraying emotions,

a jar full of

negative thoughts.

But his azure eyes

outstared her.

Startled by

her poise and

elegance,

his heart was

set on fire.

Unable to linger

any more,

he finally

proposed, expressing-

“Why don’t you

join me and be

my queen

in this hell?”

“Don’t you think

that’s a bit

too much

for a first date?”

She couldn’t complete the conversation.

Her face puckered

in tears,

she embraced him

like a frail child.

Their love was

flawless and pure,

likea

mother’s womb!

सम्राट अशोकाचा पच्याताप - Ashish Moon

(कलिंग युद्धातील भिषण रक्तपात बघुन सम्राट अशोकाचे पश्चात्ताप-ग्रस्त मन त्याला विचारत आहे -)

अशोका,का घडवला असा संहार?

रणी रक्ताचे पाट वाहिले

लक्ष मृतांचे ढिग साचले

घायाळांच्या वेदनांना ना राहिला पारावर!

विधवांचे तू पिंजर पुसले

अनाथांचे पितृ-छत्र हरपले

समृध्द कलिंग का असे तुडवले?

बुजुर्ग रडले, राहिला न आता कुणाचा आधार!

निर्जन होईल जेव्हा धरोहर

करशील मग तु राज्य कुणावर?

दैत्ये लाजतील असा पाषाणी नर

अखिल मानवतेचा तू गुन्हेगार!

रिक्तकरीच मिसळतो मृदेत नृपती

हजार युध्दे लादतो कशासाठी?

एक नराच्या सर्वस्वासाठी -

का करती नर परस्परांवर जिवघेणे वार?

आक्रोशुन सांगते तुला हे नगर -

अशोका, तुझीच हि भिषण हार!

स्वागता आली ना एक विधवा नार

राजपदाचा उरला न काही तुजला अधिकार!

तु बुडवले कलिंग शोकसागरात

का रडसी आता या अंधारात?

तव परितापाने मिळेल का गत?

हाय तयांची तुझ्या जिवाला लागेल आता घोर

चल उठ,सोड ती अस्त्रे घातक

अन् आता हो बुध्द उपासक

अंगुलीमालाही झाला "अहिंसक"

पुसण्या हिंसेचा हा घोर कलंक -

कर आता तु मानवतेचा उद्धार!

Haphazard Irony | Aahana Gupta

"How rude, uncouth and uncivil”

a voice said, as I closed the door behind me.

opened it to see the enigmatic devil

fate stood, draped in reality.

loathing myself for insolence,

I greeted my horrid enemy.

smiling, I masked my belligerence

hid his mastery of my spiteful self, as he benignly asked for tea.

before destiny, wouldn’t you choose partial gaiety?

but I defied my urge to once again flee

he signed “the fees of life is rarely tragedy

it’s reality, made from a melody, delivered in vanity.

the clock ticked but you didn’t budge

the cup fell, fate gave you a nudge.

you mock at it cynically

look up to see nobody.

you directed yourself to the overcrowded streets

the actors said their lines- their numb greets

the lamps burnt like the remnants of a fire

what do you choose? An army or a choir?

seeing colorful darkness, a shop you perceive

questioning how he knew it was the last of your tea, you almost leave.

you enter, see an empty shelf in disbelief

then it hits you- your destiny.

you see the Grim Reaper

admiringly, you push yourself closer

envying it’s attractive aura, you pull yourself together.

but slowly, you soul wears out altogether.

blessed are those who will remember you

for they had the privilege of knowing you

but what you showed everyone, was it true?

or were you scared that someone could discreetly get through?

The Princess and The Pain- Ashmi Shandilya

In a faraway land , once upon a time

there lived a princess ready to trade lives for a dime

Sleeping on a bed of roses unaware of the thorns they bore

Roses so red and thorns so thick

that scared her heart for evermore

To fight the war of life, she became a novice soldier in a nerve-wrecking battlefield

unaware of the nuanced enemy

Glistening sword in one hand and other clutching the mighty shield

still holding her head high with eyes longing for merry

Everyday when the sun seared

she grabbed her arms , polished her courage with love and tears

A life so lively, that her days used to dance and nights used to laugh

Now, light doesn't peak through the canopy during the days

A hollow, deafening silence is all that the night says

Her past self is mirrored in the shiny season of spring

Right now she is soaking up the summer heat

Her future, like the winter seems pretty bleak

And all she hopes for is a pleasant fall

But who did this to her

No questions, No reason

No heartbreaks , No treason

Often our own minds are enough to cause a massacre

Her pain gradually turned into sorrow and eventually rotted into grief

A grief so grievous and a wound so green

something that was rarely ever seen

But she fought and fought

till her arrows went blunt and her sword started to bend

wanting the happiness waiting on the other end

Loved One | Aakanksha Talya

a bun in the oven

as he comes down the lane; in the sun

a hot bun and a sweet muffin

he gets it done; for his loved one

he walks further down

into the small and peaceful town

he waits at their rock until dawn

but she doesn't turn up; and in his heartbreak; she lets him drown

the next day; before the sun sinks

she comes running with a flower in her hand; that's pink

he notices her hands that are fresh with something like red ink

but her warm smile hides away the fact that she's been living a life that's sick

Gulf of heartaches and heartbreaks- Eccentric Erebus

heartaches aren't pain of heartbreaks aside void of disdain love couldn't refill.

opioids dame mule I don't miss you as your presence never vamoose me.

indeed two wrongs makes a right not righteous known as mania, imagining each other as ideal it's utopia.

rasp-y sooth, chums opine your in-sane when you're madly in love and insane after love.

senorita kept thy pain as memento of love, memento mori to amor fati .

pesky fellas take thy swains for granted as you all taken granted by death, santa muerte.

am i selfish to beseech to endorse selfless efforts of romance? romanticising own demise shimaneki so pick a daisy.

wearing one's heart on sleeve wholly is weary, akin solid affection is corrosion wear.

every thee sides of fondness isn't love triangle, Isosceles, lost those waves at R-aidus yutaka .

leave these tenets I was the tenant in my living relationship, they vary the wary, pals won't value until they pay the price .

The summary of new genre i created - esoteric poetry

so here in the first line it elucidates abt how heartaches are pain that void can't refill but indeed not quite the heartbreaks it's like after effect so next line where the Wordplays starts opioids are like pain killers y'all know and mule is slang for drug slang mainly gurls sell it and aftereffect of opioids cause being numb but also void another Wordplay but also mule and VA-moose moose and mule Wordplay it's triple entendre, the two wrongs proverb two wrongs coz mania is known for having 2 obsessed partners which might be right for eachother as they can substain eachother trauma but not righteous another homophone imaginging eachother ideal as utopia and utopia known as ideal world that's triple entendre again, next line raspy harsh known as harsh but also rasp is flavour for chums food thing but also chum means close pal and your in-sane and insane as if u love madly even after breakup the gurl be saying ur insane but in-sane when u do the same after admist relationship but also insane and mad Wordplay it's quadraple next line senorita the Wordplay here is memento and memento mori homophones but also colliding memento mori to amor fati famous phrases so this is double entendre next line pesky fellas like ur already taken by death coz none said that ur taken granted so atleast say to ur brides that ur taken by granted not the death Sante murte it's the personification of death which is also dressed as bride that's another double entendre

So here he is asking is he selfish to ask the gurl to acknowledge his selfless efforts so for that he puts shimaneki which is a seed that can kill you and after the effect it blossoms to flowers so he's asking to pick a daisy another double entendre now, wearing one's heart is wholly weary which means weary but also weary tiring but also same solid affection like this leads to corrosion wear as UK abt corrosion to solids but also wear so it's quadraple, and this is new literature device I named it clandestine pun in this line - "every thee sides of fondness isn't love triangle, Isosceles, lost those waves at R-aidus yutaka " thee sounds like three right but u lost me at r like yutaka coz in thee the r is missing as every three sides of fondess isn't love triangle but isosceles coz uk isosceles has 2 sides thing so again ocean waves is triangle love story anime but also Radius coz of the distance it's like sextuple and also the ending touch leave these tenets I was tenant in my living relationship Wordplay of tenets and tenant but also living tenant Wordplay and they vary the wary as wary means one who is cautious and pals won't value until they pay the price so tho how much say it they'll only listen once it happens to them so this is called my esoteric poetry and clandestine pun and not bragging but sorry I'm just explaining the complex genre i created in poetry

The Nightly Enigma | Siri M

The progeny of Chaos,

The being who rules the darkness,

Cast o'er the earth like a seamless blanket.

Dotted with cosmic dust, blazing comets

and the regal moon.

The harbinger of respite,

She casts her shadows over all

that is seen by the naked eye,

And far beyond.

Come hither she says;

The enchantress she is,

She weaves a spell,

Slowly serenading your souls.

Only to have you bound

Within her starry embrace.

Come lie down she says;

As a mother would,

Beckons you to lie in her lap

As she gently cradles you.

Whispering secrets in your ears,

Of lands and rivers,

Of of heavens and nether,

Of the cosmos.

She sings a lullaby,

Like the nightingale.

Ballads of the mighty,

Paeans to the almighty,

Whilst you continue to slumber

Soothed by her cool, tranquil

Fragrant wisps of breath.

Listen, she commands.

The astral seer, she is.

Hear carefully, the answers

That you seek so ardently;

To your past, to your present and

to those of the posterity.

Eyes closed you dream, ponder,

Mull over in restless solitude.

Who is she you ask;

The enchantress, the mother,

The nightingale or the soothsayer?

She, I say is a mystery.

Wrapped in layers and layers of

All that is seen, yet unnoticed.

For she is the lie and the truth.

She is human, she is the divine.

She is naked, yet she is one in disguise.

A mirage who escapes your confines,

Tantalizing you to no end;

As she remains near, yet out of reach.

She is an enigma;

Manifesting in a thousand forms,

Though she is the one, the only,

and none who anyone else shall be.

Grief Unspoken- Anjali Khanna

Statutory warning!

Everything I’ve ever felt

I’m about to turn it into poetry

Because I don’t know where else to go

With all my misery

Dear reader,

welcome

I’m about to make you uncomfortable

As I speak about my dead person

But hey

I gave you a fair warning

Before letting you read my diary of grief

Where I unburden

I hope you’re able to read through the pale crusty sheet

This faded charcoal ink is my earliest memory as a bereaved

There was hope

Hope in my grief

For you had only gone

Gone for a week

Was it another work meeting

or a conference you were invited to speak?

I guess I didn’t realise

your absence didn’t guarantee a return this time

and now at the dining table

there is always an empty seat.

My grief might be pain

But it’s made out of anger

Because every time I try a new coffee,

I know I can’t share it with you

Every time I watch a new murder mystery,

I know I can’t share it with you

But sometimes I read a book so divine,

I forget I can’t share it with you.

I spend more time thinking about what you must be thinking

And if there really is an afterlife that you’re living

And if you can look over me in death

I hope you don’t see me yearning

with the preposterous will

to reverse time,

battle fate

or even find a cure to death.

Dear reader,

If you’ve still stuck around

We’re almost at the end of my diary

For grief has even exhausted the words out of me

I hope the depth of my despair plunged into your heart

I hope you flinched and wished to stop to read

every time I said the words death, grief and bereaved

I hope you felt helpless and uneasy, just like me

I guess grief also turned me evil; a sardonic casualty

But wait, before you depart

Let me sign off with one last remark

Somedays I just want to talk to my father

There is no victory to celebrate, no sorrow to share

I just had a day, and I want to call my father

And I miss the sound of my own voice screaming ‘papa’

and I miss the sound of a familiar voice answering to that call

And whoever said three’s a crowd,

they couldn’t have been more wrong.

For three is an empty house.

लॉकडाउन: एक ख़ूबसूरत हादसा | Ishant Gaba

COVID का टाइम और लॉकडाउन का माहौल

सब डरे सहमें घर में बैठे

जैसे जग सारा हो एक दूसरे से रूठे।

रात का टाइम था और as usual tinder का साथ

लड़कियों को लेफ़्ट राइट स्वाइप करके ख़ुश होते मेरे जज़्बात

एकदम से पढ़ी नज़र एक लड़की पे जिसको देखा था कल छत पे बाल सुखाते अपने घर से

छलकायी उसने अपनी लटें कुछ इस तरह कि दिमाग़ से नहीं निकल पा रही थी वो तब से।

किया मैंने भी राइट स्वाइप एक दम से और देखने लग गया उसकी तस्वीरें उसी वक़्त

पिघला मेरा मन ऐसा उसे देख चाहे सोचा था सुबह ही कि बनना है अब ज़ाकिर भाई जैसा सख़्त

देखते ही देखते टिंडर से कब इंस्टाग्राम और इन्स्टा से कब वॉट्सऐप पर आ गए पता ही न चला

बातें होने लगी इस क़दर कि एक ही जगह पे सुबह होती और पता ही नहीं चलता कि कब सूरज ढला।

अब सुबह उसके गुड मॉर्निंग के मैसेज से होती और रात गुड नाइट से

और हर दुपहर किसी न किसी बहाने से उसे देखते रहना अपनी छत से

ऐसी आदत लगी उसकी कि अगर न आया हो उसका गुड मॉर्निंग का मैसेज तो सुबह ही मानो होती नहीं थी

जिसका इंतज़ार पूरी ज़िंदगी भर किया मैंने मानो वही थी।

उसके और मेरे घर की दूरी चाहे थी चार गलियों की

पर उसको एक बार देख के गले लगाने को मन करता था

कई बार तो ऐसे लगे की खड़ी है चार कदमों पे

पर मिलने को जैसे पूरा जनम लग सकता था।

अब इंतज़ार करना मुश्किल हो गया था क्योंकि फ़ोन पे बात करते हो गया था डेढ़ साल

देखा तो उसको हज़ारों बार था पर फिर भी न हुआ था अभी उसकी ख़ुशबू का एहसास

आया फिर वो दिन जब मानो कि भगवान ने सारी दुआएँ सुन ली हों

लॉकडाउन हटने की ख़बर सुनते ही दोनों ने मिलने की ख्वाहिशें जैसे बच्चों की तरह दिमाग़ में बुन ली हों।

किया फिक्स दिन और टाइम मिलने का वो अच्छी सी रोमांटिक कॉफ़ी वाली जगह पे

आज न जाने कितनी देर बाद मिलना था सुकून इन बांहों को उनको गले लगाने पे

टाइम था चार बजे का पर मैं पहुँच गया था दो बजे सारी तैयारी करने

सजावट फूल गिफ़्ट में किसी तरह की कमी नहीं छोड़ी मैंने और जैसे ही चार बजे इन आँखों में लगे ख़ुशी के आँसू भरने।

साढ़े चार का टाइम हुआ और वो उतरे बस से कॉफ़ी शॉप के सामने

मानो उनकी आँखें कह रही हो सॉरी उलझा रखा था काम ने

फ़ासला अब सिर्फ़ एक सड़क का था जो पार करके सुकून को मिल जाना था

पर क्यों नसीब में मेरे उनका सिर्फ़ और सिर्फ़ दिल ही पाना था।

मुड़ के देखा उनकी तरफ़ तो आँखें पड़ी नीचे सड़क पे

एक गाड़ी तेज़ आते मार गयी उनको बस एक धड़क में

मैं भागा उनकी तरफ़ से और चिल्लाया इतनी ज़ोर से

क्यों मेरी ही मोहब्बत को बाँधा था इतनी पतली डोर से।

पहली बार इतनी शिद्दत से कुछ पाने की कोशिश की थी मैंने

पर वो भी मुझे ना मिला

रही मेरे पास तो सिर्फ़ अधूरी मोहब्बत और अधूरी तम्मना उनको गले लगाने की

रह गया अधूरा वो भी सिलसिला।

उनकी आँखें थी मेरी तरफ़

और मेरी रुह अपने बिछड़ते सनम में

मैंने गले लगाया उन्हें कुछ इस तरह

कि मोहब्बत ले गई मुझे भी उनके पास अगले जनम में।

नकली नारीवाद- Suman Nehra

कभी जो नारी होती थी सब पर भारी

अब क्यों कोशिश करती है बनने को बेचारी।।

कब तक बेचारी बन दुनिया को बहकाना हैं

नारीवाद के नाम पर और कितने मासूमों को फसाना है।।

दुशासन घोषित कर दिया उसने कितनों को

पर वो खुद द्रौपदी ना निकली

चीर स्वयं त्याग कर

पलभर में अबला बन निकली।।

डर तो इनसे बनता है क्योंकि इनके साथ जनता है

थोड़ा रोना धोना इनका सारा काम बनता है।।

नारा नारीवाद का समाज में

फैला रहे ये नफरत बिना किसी बात के

कर रहे है गुमराह इस कदर की

ना निकल सकोगे इससे पूरे जीवनकाल में।।

बुद्धि भ्रष्ठ समझे खुद को श्रेष्ठ

बिना किसी बात के

गलत बता दो इन्हें चिल्लाए ये

बिना किसी बात के।।

नारीवाद के नाम पर हर किसी को थप्पड़ मारेगी

खुद इल्जाम लगाएगी और खुद कानून बनायेगी।।

वो औरत है वो गलत नहीं,सरेआम तमाशा बनायेगी

तुम एक भी जवाब दे दोगे वो दस धारा लगवायेगी।।

मार खाओ तुम,जेल जाओ तुम,बेकसूर हो सर झुकाओ तुम

झूठे आरोपों के चलते न्यायलय के चक्कर लगाओ तुम।।

कब समझोगे नारीवाद है खुद को पंख लगाना

ना की काट दूसरों के उनको घसीटना।।

बस लड़की हो जाने से तुम हमेशा सही नहीं होती

समानता में सब बराबर है लड़का-लड़की अलग नहीं होती।।

जो सच में दबी हुई है उनकी कोई बात नहीं करता

उनको हक दिलवाओ जिनकी अब भी कोई नहीं सुनता।।

कंधे से कंधा मिलाकर चलना है तो चल दो ना

हक की लड़ाई कहकर बेफिजूल झगड़ों ना।।

बहानों के पल्लू पीछे छुपना है आसान

मांगते नहीं यहां कमाते है सम्मान।।

British Santa- Dhruv Bhatt

Santa, will you materialise on my coasts

someday on your ‘reign’-deer?

Will you plunder my temples and break

my house?

Santa, will you rewrite my books

for me? Call my struggles mutiny and my

religion an abomination?

Saint Nick, will you divide my people?

Dye your beard red in blood? Or will it

be blue in the indigo you made us grow?

Santa, can I come to meet you

at the North Pole? Why does the sign

on your door say: Indians and dogs

not allowed?

And you, why do you sneak in, Santa?

Are you a thief? (Or a trader)

How will you reach me

across the Indian Ocean?

Does your sleigh double as a gunboat?

Is the Jolly Roger (Union Jack) your banner?

Santa, this time, when you place our

‘humanitarian aid’ beneath the

Christmas tree, look closely:

Look

At the corpses hanging from its needles:

ornaments. Objects. Slaves.

Look

at their pallor, their ribcages. They died

in the famines you helped create.

I wonder whose wish that was?

Look

at the ribbons: pieces of khadi,

muslin? Scraps of cotton saris,

last remnants of the women that fled

when you hastily partitioned my country.

Maybe if you look close enough, you will

find their bangles, their hair, their payals.

Maybe you will find their train tickets;

tickets to a new home they never reached.

Maybe you can take their ashes and

their bones to your museums?

Place them alongside the mummies

(also stolen).

In the hope that they, too, make it

through the afterlife.

And reach home.

Santa, this Christmas bring me hope,

bring me the idols you stole.

Santa, this time, you be the ‘good’ kid.

And we will keep out the stale cookies

and milk we are left with.

A reminder for you | Maitree Patel

You don't need to be others favorite,

Just be yours favorite,

You don't need to wait for others,

You don't need to feel sorry ,

You don't need regret for your actions ,

Just give chance to yourself,

Just give a try to improve yourself,

You don't need to hug others ,

Have you ever hugged yourself?,

It heals our soul,

Try to understand yourself than others,

Try to accept yourself,

Give time to yourself,

You don't always need to search others,

You are the support for yourself ,

Nobody is going to push you,

You don't need to depend on someone,

Nobody is permanent and perfect,

Nobody is permanent like our Life ,

You'll be responsible for your happiness,

& you'll only be responsible for sadness,

Fixing the problem is also in your hand,

You only going to stay with yourself Forever,

Improve, love and respect yourself.

From the heart of a writer- Samaya Bery

Words swirl, thoughts flow, emotions unravel,

A flurry of ideas inside my head,

From here to there and back, I travel,

As I weave a story, thread by thread.

With pen on paper, words yet unspoken,

The often voiceless, to be heard,

My stories shared, from thoughts unbroken,

Expressed succinctly, by just a word.

All life is a canvas, I fill in the shades,

Reflecting what is held deep within me,

From a place where hope never fades,

Each time that I write, I am set free.

I am a creator of magic, of dreams, and more,

As I sit down to write, the moments unfold,

Slowly but surely my musings soar,

And soon they form my story untold.

She | Siddhi Khator

Not so perfect

Not so known

She was a girl loved you more than anyone

She did not played games or was a flipper

She was always a keeper

The time you shared with her was the time she always waited for

And would never ask for more

All she wanted was her rose

The only rose she cared for was you

That crying on your shoulders

You carried her tears with you

There was a rose in the bottle of letters she gave it to you

She wanna break this silence between you two

And wanna hug you tight

But the things aren’t this normal

as it seems to be

as it could be