DILEMMA

Attached , detached or free?

 

dangling from the last twig of  topmost branch

behind the shrub of small wildflowers

amidst the verdure of freshly borne feel

while the satin petals smile and bloom

dewdrops kiss the skin

gazes the flower upto the blue

while blushing maiden peeps from behind clouds

alike the pure emotions of heart

the lily attached to its tree

yet is detached and free…

winging to the sky …through day or night

while the  moon glides

 

©Soumya

 

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

 

Like a Bohemian

Like a bohemian she moved to places
A nomad at heart
as a bird in sky
swirling the colourful skirt of aspirations
paints down every town red and and streaks of turquoise

hadn’t the cuckoo perched every branch
hiding from the limelight
beneath the vast azure she vanishes
as a star during daylight

what if the colours create a motif
of a saga in humble words
she runs behind the tall corridors
where sleeps since years a history epical…

do not dissect the words or rhyme
forget to decipher or analyze
her pastels sing
her trinkets dance
words paint
and voice charms
faraway the bohemian lives
away from the world in a  realm of dreams
moving under thousand suns

The humming river

 

Let us flow like the perennial river

gushing past the rocks

through the valleys

and down the hills to

our heaven.

 

let us hear the song of chirping birds

play with butterflies

bloom with the orchids

and roll on meadows laughing

and cuddling over.

 

let us climb to the sky

catch the stars twinkling

and draw doodles

of love on heaven

 

will you come over

or beckon me there

to flow together

like the humming river?

 

We

your words pierced every vein

leaving goosebumps

and I saw the lost moment again

In dust I vanished

you in the dew of time

both in opposite directions

but hearts connected for lifetime

with a sigh,

the hope dawns with every morn,and sets

in the night dark

a moment to be together

leaving the world aside.

.

©SoumyaV

“Faith”

wandered I on various lands
ov’r seas, ov’r bridges
strolled on sands and
walked through indefinite contours
every land donned
a new robe,
a new colour
of hope ,
of belief
of religion
and
each thought,
each urge,
each craving
converges to the same destination
THE CREATOR
Paths many , journeys different
all under the same azure
witness the sun and moon while playing hide and seek
from their co ordinates
innumerable ways to elevate and transcend
ceaseless is the travel
there’s lot to discover
get set go and
breathe
in different atmospheres
before it ends…

©SoumyaVilekar

Lore from the mountains

while I lie numb next to the

corridor of spring

where sings the cuckoo

whence the loving breeze slips past me

Melody of spring, a sweetness splendid

…

Here I lie

near the gates of morn

while sleeps my companion

faraway

behind the sun near horizon

I watch the blooming lilies,

their smile ,so intoxicating

…fragrant bunches of love in extravagance

Here I lie near the window of hope

within the bars of life

caged is the soul

in body

of survival…

I witness the mystic creations

the tranquil river knew my lore

that flowed beside your cottage

while mesmerized tall conifers

overlooked the minute gambles

near the mountain door .

Here I lie in fragments,

gathering bits to create a new mural

brushing colours picked

from nature to the

once dead existence.

©SoumyaV

“The Silent Warriors”

Her eyes had become lifeless,
like a stone ,she stood unmoved, the life of iris had
turned into pebbles,
yet flowed from the depths of heart and soul
infinite incessant tears…
She was a mother, a wife or a daughter,
her voice deafened in screams of the martyr,
Tis the unmovable body of maybe her son, husband or brother,
nothing actually mattered …
He gave up his days of affection, lost nights amorous in the deep jungles infested
with insects and animals
deprived himself of sleep and rest to give us a realm
of freedom to live without fear…
he was hungry for days or sometimes raw food he ate
half cooked in deserts or on terrains
while we sumptuously enjoyed the delicacies ,yet grumbled on the pinch of salt
that was less in dinner…
do we realize while the handsome packet of salary in our pockets
we earned
an only risk of attrition & no apprehension of seeing the last summer…
why then like heartless beings we are ungrateful and forget the martyrs?
Those who lived and died for us, to fortify our existence and secure us a future
Don’t we owe a moment of grief,
a sense of gratitude or a moral responsibility
to support their loved ones ,
who laid their lives for cavalry
the silent 
great Indian warriors …

ASK THE EYES

 

Photocredit:www.seekeraftertruth.com

ask the eyes that saw the black nights

of hunger

the only shelter, broken thatched

torn rag

and a sole shrouded cover.

ask the eyes

which witnessed death

while bloomed the buds

in innocence

toiled hands at work

to earn and fill one’s

stomach

ask the eyes

those which wept in loneliness

fought against the storms unseen

every bent, a new challenge

on every road

when hope was killed.

ask the eyes

which fear love

perhaps they think,

it vanishes

like the fragrance

of jasmine in air…

submerge they

in plateau of solitude

alone and bereft…

ask the eyes

forbidden

forsaken abandoned,

neglected, ignored and abused

the grief of survival

in distress, sadness,

and despair,

failure ,devastation or

battles …

ask the eyes

who have ne’er got enough

of anything

what is your identity

what is your sect

what is your caste or creed

what’s the name of your faith?

what is comfort, luxury

what ‘s your goal next

what’s your favourite destination

which holiday you liked the best

the silent eyes

in disbelief

will utter

only truth