6th Blog Anniversary


Dear friends,

As I woke up to the beautiful message from WordPress to remind me of the blog’s 6th anniversary, I looked back and realized this had been a wonderful journey of evolution,whether it is writing  poetry, life or anything,we eventually grow and evolve.

Thanks to WordPress which gave me this platform and connected me to few of wonderful people I had ever come across.The most important has been Shaheen Dhanji who has been a friend, co author, guide and inspiration all through out. Few friends like Vishal, Rachna , Rekha , Eric, Wendell,Jensy have been always encouraging.

I would like to take this opportunity and share few updates and captures of the recent developments . Although I rarely come on WordPress and the rate of posts have reduced, it always feels amazing to connect to the fellow bloggers. I always have the urge to come back and post my works here. WordPress has been like a family to me which encouraged me when I had just started the voyage .

The picture is captured while I got felicitated by the Chairman, Zilla Parishad , Vijayawada on occasion of International Multilingual Poetic Meet. The anthology already has found place in the Limca Book of World Records with more than 948 poems in 85 languages from across the world. My poems in four different languages are a part of this prestigious anthology.

What better way of celebrating the 6th bloganniversary than sharing this info here with the bloggerfriends,as this poetic journey had started from here .

Thanks for all the love and support.

Stay blessed,

Best wishes,

Soumya

23456271_1723661011038519_7280587676146492836_o

 

SCARLET


And  numb …under the orchid

I had awaited your steps since dawn

here you return …when the sun is about to set

When forgotten are promises

Lost are desires ,buried under the soil

The urge has vanished

and I motionless & still

stare at you…

The sun sets with a dab of crimson. It was all scarlet like my blood.

 

©Soumya

DSCF7069

ALLEYS OF AJMER


In the narrow alleys then

fragrance roses in abundance

The light smell of musk incense filled the air

I frantically moved from lane to lane

in search of you

While the lamps illumined darker corners and stars gazed

music echoed and  heart danced

with  inebriation

forgetting self  in search for your presence

seeking the path to blissful pleasure…

 

lost in crowd ,  joyous and mute

another moment tears overflowed

and washed every glance

Nothing could be seen and known

It was a trance … a gnosis of  love showering

on soul…

onto every  step , I fell

a hand came to save

I move around and still search for you

Alleys of Ajmer

Dust of  you

I breathe your presence

O ! Murshid ! I miss you !

Grand Mosque , AbuDhabi ©Soumya

 

 

Rhetoric


Ah! Exclaimed the unknown poet
Bidding adieu to the world of sleeping souls
“Will thou never wake up
anyday before the
temple bells  or will the sound of
 a blowing conch stir thy senses
Then thou would get up from the slumber”
In dark , have thou lived
Forgetting the golden hours
When the prismatic rays kissed
Thy temple’s horizon
…long before the birds sang thine praises
And perched beside the mangoflowers…
Now sleeps the land
and thou folks in inebriation of materialistic ,egoistic treasures
Leaving aside the golden strokes
of humanism….
Shattering idols of faith…creating statues of stone and places of fearful altar
Mingle thou in dust while thy soul shrieks to remind
illumine the cavern
Then would be the advent of
An age utopian…
@Soumya
IMG_20170418_122601

The walk


The hanging branches of orchids which yearn to droop

And reach me

How enchanting they appear and soothing while their petals brush against my cheek

Isn’t the path where I step barefooted embrace my feet into its heart deep

While the nostalgic air brings sense of belonging to my traveling soul

Which remains awake for nights before it finally rests to sleep

Doesn’t the echoing bells of a temple nearby thud my core ,whence I vibrate with

my pulse dancing to the cosmic lore

will n’t I be teary eyed when overflows my core with emotions inexplicable and words get lost

in the forest where I travel

they like the new born leaves shy ,sometimes shiver as the dried aged ones do before they die

IMG_20160617_100327

 

The Unsung Lore


 

the unsung lyrics of thou and me

reside in the involute spirals of life

sometimes being blown by winds of time

often displayed as colours of a tiny butterfly

Oh ! that tiny shell knew the lore

heard it while lying offshore

tis a fable of thou and me

sung by nature silently

beyond the perishable limits of life

crossing the impermanence line

yeah! it dwells like fragrance in flowers

as luminous radiance of moon for hours

in the dancing waves of the pragmatic ocean

in the notes of reed made with blades of scattered plants

growing far in forests or like the sanddunes of a desert…

 

Hear the melody

we blend as music and words

in moments of ecstasy.

 

 

The Rainy Season


 

The Rainy season- A random musing

dscf5381

 

Like the beautiful  flowers of palash, popularly known as fire of the forest, I was burning . The inner turbulence  like the  upheaval of tides made me rise and fall against the heavy rocks of life.

Had the shore been sandy ,I wished to have laid myself on the shore surrendering to  the splashing waves of a sea,but nonetheless,it was n’t such.It was rocky.

Life isn’t what we dream and wish for! We have to create a path to realize this dream  and then walk on it ,many a times getting pierced by innumberable thorns .

The fragrance which disseminates in the atmosphere is usually of the wild flowers growing on open meadows and hillsides, those which bring freshness in life and also in the monotonous mundaneness. Pruned, I loved watching birds flying in the sky, they seemed to be so happy, free and delighted ,marching towards their goal . Their wings unfettered and whistling to their favourite tunes they sang whenever they wished .

A sense of freedom filled the heart and I wished I could fly thus like the wading birds.

The riot of colours in the evening sky brought more nostalgia  as I walked towards the mound on the top of the mountain. This rainy season, nothing had changed.

I can’t let it die


I can’t let it die

The solitary poetic sigh

Which breathes in minute pauses

Betwixt the gaps of worldly duties and entangled chores

Neither let it suffocate in the fumes of  intoxicating insecurities

Nor allow the pangs of survival and existence wipe the ethereal pastels

Those vernacular treasures fastened securely in caskets of thoughts

Transform as they rise and glow as embers in the sky to twinkle till ages eternal.

DSCF5903