Tag Archives: Poetry

The Boat of Life

We are all travellers

In the boat of life

 

Adrift, marooned, anchored

In different faces of time

 

Sometimes we row furiously

At times at leisure

 

And peer at other boats

To see if they’ve found a shore

 

In stormy seas we hold on

Or fight to stay on course

 

Battered, bruised we soldier on

There are oceans to conquer, you see

 

Sometimes the sun shines

And sparkles on the water

 

Blue, green, yellow, gold

The colours melt into one another

 

Reverie broken, eyes searching

For another pair of arms for the oars

 

Maybe there’ll be more seas to explore

Or a bay which becomes home

 

But one thing is for sure,

we are all travellers in this boat

 

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84 Minutes

Those 84 minutes of hell

That you endured

Screaming, Shouting

Fighting, Pleading

 

You know you woke

A nation which was asleep

You were a ray of light

Just like your name

 

My fearless sister

Are you at peace today?

Did you look down from Heaven

And smile a little bit

 

Di d you see the people

Cheering outside the courts

And did you see the fire

Which was lit by you

 

Are you happy that

Those animals are caged

That they will spend their

Rest of the days, waiting to die

 

It will be hell for them

And you can watch them

With some satisfaction

I suppose

 

I hope your 84 minutes

Of agony and distress

Be 84,000 for them

Oh fearless one, rest in peace now

 

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Filed under India, Poetry

My Mumbai Colleague

My Mumbai Colleague

Like you,

I am a journalist

 

Like you,

I visit many places

For work

 

Some lonely

Some crowded

Some in the evening

 

Like you

I was an intern

When I was 22

 

Tasting the new success

After a college education

Exploring my world

 

Like you

I was a professional

Doing my job

 

Like you

If my assignment was in the mills

I would have gone

 

Like you

I would have never thought

I would be violated on my job

 

Fight, my sister

Be brave

For all of us

 

Don’t listen to anyone

Who says

That you were

 

In the wrong place

At the wrong time

Or in the wrong clothes

 

It wasn’t you

My Mumbai colleague

It’s them

 

They were in the wrong place

At the wrong time

With the wrong intentions

 

It’s not your shame

It’s not your izzat

It’s not your family’s honour

 

That they took

Who hunted

In a pack

 

It’s their’s

They should be ashamed

Of being worse than animals

 

They assumed

That they were

Powerful

 

But they are wrong

You are a woman

Shakti Chandi Durga

 

Rise, my sister

In your fight

I hold your hand

 

Like the girl on

December 16

Jolt us out

 

Of apathy

Of desensitization

Of nothing-can’t-be-done attitude

 

Fight the fight

For all of us

My Mumbai Colleague

 

Work

Laugh

Live

 

Live

My Mumbai Colleague

So they know

 

They don’t have

Any power

Over you

 

Live

Because it’s your life

To live

—–

Poetry written for this fellow journalist

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Filed under India, Poetry

Death

Death is black

It is quick

It is slow

 

What does it taste like?

It’s like the salty tears

Which never stop flowing

 

It tastes like black soyabean

Which hungry children

Once ate

 

It’s in the mud

Which covers the graves

Of small bodies

 

It’s in the guttural cries

Of a wailing mother

And a stoic father

 

It smells like school books

Whose pages haven’t been turned

New, unused forever

 

It’s in an empty classroom

Where human life ceases to exist

And stray dogs sleep

 

It’s in a village

Which mourns the loss

Of its future

 

It’s in the empty playground

Where six friends once played

Now buried together

 

It’s in the eyes of a grandfather

It’s in the heart of a mother

And in the silence of a sister who cheated it

 

It’s in the green fields

And blue skies

And a pond which reflects everything

 

It’s in the apathy

And desensitization

Of the hordes who die, anyway

 

And the – oh, those poor children

So sad they died

It was somewhere in India, right?

 

———-

One month after the Mid Day Meal tragedy where 23 children died.

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Yamuna

I walked past you today

Oh, pregnant river

 

You were in the earth

Where I used to tread

 

Sinuously swirling

You called out to me

 

Enchanted I stopped

To take a look

 

Swollen, full

You almost seduced me

 

In the yonder

I saw your mate

 

I decided to hurry

Past you

 

But you linger on

In my memory

 

Oh wretched one

I know your games

 

I belong to you

I know that, don’t you

 

But I am not ready

To be a part of you

 

One fine day

When the sun will shine

 

I will tread gently

On your loving waters

 

Unafraid that your hungry belly

Will consume me

 

You dangerous one

You will want to drown me

 

But I will be ready

To swim instead

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I Rise

I rise

Because I want to walk down that street

Freely, happily, unafraid

Just like you

 

I rise

Because a fire was lit

And it’s burning brighter

In every atom of my being

 

I rise

Because I was defiled

My crime was being a girl

Thirteen with no breasts to touch

 

I rise

Because you look at me

Like you want to rape me

Undressing me with your eyes

 

I rise

Because I want to run

Feel the wind in my hair

Without any fear

 

I rise

Because I want to see the world

Travelling to my own tunes

Just like you

 

I rise

Because I am a sexual being

And whatever I wear

I never ask for it

 

I rise

Because I am a woman

Your equal, your greater

Never lesser that your half

 

I rise

Because this is my fight

Because you assumed me weak

Subservient and quiet

 

I rise

In war

In pain

In fear

 

I rise

In hope

In prayer

In freedom

————-

For the One Billion Rising Campaign and it’s Delhi event

Meanwhile watch this

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=fL5N8rSy4CU#!

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Filed under India, Me, Poetry

Woman

I keep you in my womb, safe

I give birth to you

Man, I create you

 

My eyes unsleeping

My body unaching

My love unwavering

 

Yet monsters you become

Teaching me painful lessons

For no crime of mine

 

You touch my feet as Sita

And yet you ask me

To walk on hot coals

 

You ask  Saraswati for knowledge

You ask Laxmi for wealth

You ask Durga for strength

 

And yet you kill me

Before I am born

Are you really a man?

 

I am your daughter

I am your sister

I am your mother

 

You forget this

Outside your home

Even in your home

 

I bear quietly

The pain you give

Swallowing it like a bitter pill

 

I am strong

And yet you think

Of me as weak

 

My unspoken eyes

See what you have

Done to me

 

Wait for the Kali

In me to rise

Man, you will cower away

 

I will cause you pain

I will give birth

Only to my daughter

 

I will nurture her

Make her strong

And battle worthy

 

Trust me, man

You don’t want to see

Laxmibai with undocile eyes

 

So fight with me now

Not against me

Stand up and be counted

 

Because my war cry

Will be hard

For you to ignore

 

I will die

A thousand deaths

For my sisters

 

Until you have

Learnt your lessons

The hard way

 

I will be nirbhaya

I will be amaanat

I will be a braveheart

 

You will know

My many names

Until none exist

 

Then you will know me

As respect, dignity, equality

As woman not Kali or Lakshmi

 

———

 

Thoughts after the Delhi gangrape incident

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