LET HER SLEEP
Amidst the weeds and few roses,
lies silently,
the girl in white…
in deep sleep
Shh! Dnt talk here
she will wake up…
After long , the dreams
are here
so do not tread…
she is tired and fatique…
sings the lullaby
melodious wind
caressing the sleeping queen!
Sheds few drops , the clouds as tears
quenching her thirst since years
Let her rest …
Let her be in peace
Beside the coffin ,
The nightingale weeps!
photocredit:flowallp.com
Do not wither
O! season of unison!
Wait until,
I meet my love!
Embrace thy lilies
leap and kiss the
clouds
While I wait
for my companion
Remain here for
sometime more
my love shall arrive
the air will be fragrant again
The birds will sing and
love the flight
Sing! O! season of unison
Here awaits my heart
For the love ,who is miles apart…
photocredit:www.ruckmakers.com
The lonely hungry nights on the footpath or
sometimes in the neighboring slum
The eerie silence of the darkness
or the fearful noise of barking dogs.
A little girl alone, walks
until her legs stumble and she falls
In clothes torn , patched up
hair unkempt and scattered
roughly tied with a soiled hairband
she wears a look of curiousness
and doubt…
her eyes though sparkle wide…
and their innocence shines
The glaze of street lights,
sound of honking horns,
the sudden screeching of brakes on the deserted roads
in wee hours
few shadows seen moving along…
the lone soul starves
beside the marriage ceremony going in pomp,
Where tons of delicious food and desserts get stomped in garbage
the leftover of innumerable plates …
she picks and selects,
cleans and eat,
taste her buds , which were once deprived….
Under the stars, she dreams and lives
every moment , she smiles and breathes,
A little puppy lost and stranded,
licks her toe ,
warmly she picks him up
A friend, she gets in this lone world,
loyal and sweet,
runs who beside her in sun or in storm
in drenching rain
or to sit with empty stomach
on barren rocks…
Thou! Jealousy
as a veiled maiden deceits…
metamorphoses into various shapes
changeth appearances
lures
with exuberant names…
lest anyone finds
the hidden coquette
she overthrows him into the tragic well…
Discontented, ever desiring
innocence burns out in her lusty eyes
she hath destroyed the realms
of peace and love
playing the fiddle to her tunes!
Beware! says the soul
here comes, the enticing queen
do not be her slave
dooms she ,every life…thence,
open your eyes
remove the veil…
photocredit:lightworkers.org
tis your journey,
which you undertake
on the lonesome path
for miles before you rest…
afar lies the horizon,
prickly branches near
the sun will scorch your tender skin’
if you aren’t strong and
stand with valour…
lift thy spirits in dark nights
through dense jungles
scary beings of fear and death
shall haunt you
if you don’t have faith ever.
tis your journey,
O! young soul…
traverse on the path
till you touch the blue sky
and finally kiss the stars….
photocredit:franthony.com
I often came across a face,
which wore a masquerade circadian
bright flashy,sometimes grey
when eyes flashed as pretense.
while it stepped out
dodging the world
The ruse, it played
became deceptive aid.
Changing masks, a regular charade
simulation of hidden guile
What a guise,
the face plates?
Façade of false expressions
Pose of honest imitation
Sly,deceit the masquerade’s colour,
Which hath you put today
O! clown of disguise
What’s your colour?
will you ever see your real image
your real reflection?or will the masquerade be your shroud forever?
photocredit:www.mrwallpaper.com
Gaped the tired restless eyes through eternity
piercing the silent whispers of the starry sky
hearing the conversation between the radiant moon and its love
throughout the emptiness,dwelt the heart in the ether of sky…
Reminiscences like fumes of incense
filled the air with scented memories
blooms of night jasmine smiled
at the solitude ,being alone and clear…
listening to the chords of inner voice
with the quiet atmosphere
resounded the night
directions of life to be taken…
Thence I find a path obscure
reaches which to the gorgeous moon in heaven
neither commonly traversed nor taken …
decides the mind, in accordance with the inner realm
The route of self-realization
which commands
real courage and valor,
to stand firm on every avenue
until the goal is achieved with perfection…
photocredit:manwathiell.deviantart.com
shared I , the melancholic drops
fell which on the blossom of life
drenching my fabric
whence I treasure a casket
of those translucent gems for you.
not before long
they had rolled swiftly
away was the spring of love then,
missed thy ,my gorgeous raindrops
doused which as the early monsoon.
I realize ,how precious you
find them, glittering and shining
preserved , saved thus
like jewels
the drops melancholic…
photocredit:www.justkickitnow.com1024 × 683
An epitome of grace,
as figurine in tribhanga
The ultimate superfluous aura radiates
in the dancing statuette …
on beats pulsating,reverberate which the atoms of air
she steps on earth,kissing the soil of her motherland
with hands folded in a lotus shape,
her fingers offer the love of her heart,
she, the classic danseuse of Konark!
Behind her, wheels of the royal chariot of Sun stand
withstanding years of scorching heat and sordid weather
The rustic sandstone roughens every moment
while her feet thumps in rhythm ,on every beat of the Mridanga!
Echoes the melancholic intense love of Geet Govinda,
sways the sculptured posture like a waving petal…
tenderly mesmerizing the ambience
in every atom of the milieu …
starts the Abhinaya.
What an enchanting sight!
an alluring panorama…
The vista shines in flamboyance
in the ethereal dance
with the myriad hues of heaven…
Tribhanga: Pose of Odissi dance.
Mridanga: Indian drum,
Abhinaya: an Odissi dance form
Geet Govinda: an epic in form of verse written by Jaidevphotocredit:odissistyle.blogspot.com
soumyav 