My Poems

Poor me

I started beautifying me

I tried prettifying me

I learned embellishing me

I stuck on to the obsession of decorating me

As I thought  it is the important requirement of all

As I thought It is the sought out thing by all

I forgot  I could dance and mesmerise all

I forgot I could sing and tranquilise all

I forgot I could paint and hypnotise all

I forgot I could write and influence all

I forgot:

I can do many more things and activate all

I wasted all my talents for the obsession to look perfectly

How sorry I am

It is only I woke up when I spellbound listening the people sing

It is only I realized when I awestruck seeing the people dance

It is only I came to know when I Bewitched by the paintings people draw

It is only an eye opener for me when I read the Writings people penned

I thought of my skills only when I learned about the other’s skills

And the importance attached to them

More than the beauty

Poor me

I learned in totality

Beauty is not the entirety

Skill is also a celebrity

© Anjana Lahuri@2020

I subsided under an orthodox cruelty

I bent down to the family prejudices

 I shutdown to the society’s stage-acts

I compromised for everyone else’s happiness but not mine

I am haunted by perverted honour killings

I am jinxed by superstitious witch-crafts

I may be able to live normally 

Like nothing ever as beautiful as you happened in my life

 I may pretend solitude 

Like any suffering as you occurred in my life

 I can be able to lead my life peacefully

 l can be able to pass my life flawlessly

I can be able to enjoy my life more than ever

I can love the person who comes into my life with all my heart and more than anybody else

But

I can’t say sure 

That

I will be the same person again

© Anjana Lahuri@2020

Cutey naughty Squirrel

Flittering up and down the tree

Flaunting coily- twirly tail this and that

Hushed on the courtyard to pluck a cereal spread on the floor

Sat on the floor,

Blinked and winked the twinkle eyes

Robbed and grabbed the grain nicely

Jumped from the ground to a secret place

Ate some

Stashed some under the ground

Proudly felt it saved for future

It kept on doing the hiding job actively

As it forgot about the treasured one actually

And never collected the nut from  preserved spots again

Innocent Squirrel did the stashing job all her life

Years later,

The hidden nuts sprouted out as plants

Grown big as trees

Upon the branches, the squirrel kids Happily played and played

Started the same job again

The Squirrel doesn’t know

 The prudent responsibility it held upon it’s tiny hands

Towards the next generation

For humans and of course for Squirrels

Hence Squirrel’s performance appraisal

Happy nature’s renewal

Happy humans beneficial

 Embrace entirely or a gentle tapping boldly

   Shake the hand swiftly or twist it fondly

      Smile by lips or a slight sigh with eyes

         Enact through actions or express through tears

            Lots of words or a short-sweet sentence

                 Loads of gifts or a symbol of reminiscence

 A token of appreciation:

   A Thanksgiving

     A gesture of gratitude

        A receipt of love rendered

           A bow of owe

      For the services they rendered for you

        For the love they poured for you

             For the console they provided you

                 For the comfort they gave you

When You are very much in need of it;

 Is indeed what you can offer 

    For the most needed hour  

        Lest the moment passes 

             Next you may lose the chance 

               To emphasis its value again

                 To synchronise the spirit it contain

© Anjana Lahuri@2020

You ought to leave the people who loved 

You ought to leave the ones who served

You ought to leave the place that hosted

It’s uniqueness you shared

Your memories with them

Your gratitude for them

Your foot-prints on it

Your loving about it 

Your heart weighs with the same fact;

Your thoughts succumb with the same draft;

That you may not look back: 

And see the place that was once part of your life;

And meet the people again who were once part of your life;

When the change is inevitable;

When move on is the only option available;

Accept the fact with the mature lot,

And move:

To a new place that is waiting for you;

To the new people who joins you;

To the new pictures added to your frame beside you;

With a gentle smile, 

With a forgettable file,

With the fact of the life’s line,

O God !

Give me the strength to leave behind

The past and welcome the future,

In a very normal way as a normal person with a normal life.

© Anjana Lahuri@2020

I get solace with your words

I feel proud of your honesty

I admire your selflessness

I wonder your spirituality

I honor your valuing of friendship

I love your childishness

I follow your concept of self assessment

I respect your devotion

And

I am more than happy to wish my friend

Wish you a Happy Birthday

And more happy birthdays to come

And more colors to sprinkle

More wings to fly

More strings to tune

More flutes to sing

More cakes to eat

More success to celebrate

More More More

Cheer Cheer Cheer

Merry Merry Merry

There is some story spread around

 In different versions in different conclusions

 I just caught something in an immature version as I am not a philosopher, neither a guru

Who teaches inspiring versions to the knowledge seekers

After creation of Vishnu, to preserve

After creation of Shiva, to destroy

After creation of Lakshmi, to the wealth

After creation of Saraswathi, to the knowledge

He sighed a relief when he got parents to take care of his creation, family to see the welfare, friends to share, nature to cradle and the entire universe to frolicking and gambling

Still there is a vacuum persisted , void unavoided

As a spark he jerked with a waking

That there is a need of a medium to decipher the code of crust he made

And to disseminate to the core of its guests

It indeed:

 A great creation, A Teacher, A Guru, 

A Marga-darsak, a great wisdom,

 Whoever in that line, to hold a distinctive responsibility of directing the human thought into a right direction

A Gods representative, a disciple of Matha Saraswathi

Starter of our knowledge with alphabets on the slate

Expander of  their significance on the notebook

Teacher of  lessons to open a door to the complex world

A shaper, A moulder, A layer of life’s foundation stone

Indeed needed for the generations to come and go…..

Time wheel, A dormant reel of the present

A self set seal on the dark past

A self treated heal of the scar cut in the past

A self tuned deal of the coming dates

 It wheels and wheels and wheels…..

Whether one likes it or not

Whether one tracks it or not

Whether one counts it or not

Whether one preserves it or not

Whether one directs it or not

Never stops Never rests

Never pauses Never reclines

Times unknown how much it ran, except a

few bumps of chronology through few spells of digging

Times never known how much it may run further except a few scribbles of imaginary stories through few petals of fiction books

It runs and runs and runs……….

Whether one runs along with

Whether one freezes tired of breath

Never resists Never protests

Never complains Never objects

History never calculated it’s speed

Future never forecasted it’s road

Except the present learned to survive as its mood

One can’t number of it’s spokes 

One can’t assume of its patterns

One can’t figure out of its shades

One can’t trace out it’s path

One can’t catch of its pase

Except one can say,

It hosts two pages: the dark one and bright one

And  one can decide themselves,

 On which page their mark to be signed

Bright one or dark one

It rolls and rolls and rolls ………..

Whether one makes a mark on it not

Whether one stamps an impression on it or not

Into the Clocks unknown

Into the Chronicles unwritten

Never bothers Never hassles

Never  troubles Never frustrates

Just recedes into the old

Just proceeds into the new

As the Sun ascends in the East

As the Sun descends in the West

©Anjana Lahuri@2020

God has given a long thought for her creation

He closed his eyes, gone to deep meditation

He shouted for strong power as a personification

 He startled with the blow he felt through devotion

He urged for immense patience as a form

He needed to be patient till it is born

He prayed for the knowledge to be moulded In a stature

He read the chants to understand the layout stationed

He wished for wealth to take a cast

He was greedy enough to see the richness sculpt

He was shyish to want beautiful universe as a figurine

He was blindfolded to withstand its Glory when it is ready

 He solicited to see the galaxy of tenderness to be an embodiment

He fell asleep with a warmth touch of a soul he felt

 He sensed he got what he illusioned in Yoga

He relieved at once as he got the shape stood in front

He created “She” but never dared to see directly at her, fearing he might not be able to do it

Would you mind utter a word when i am talking to you with all my heart

would you mind to hurl a glance at me when i am maddened to get one amidst my eyes homing yours

You may mind me or not

I mind your response

I am afraid you may put me in a spot where i stop minding you