Conquest – A Rhyme


Shukla Paksha* lands with waxing moon

Hearts of teen-agers begin to croon.

For goddess of knowledge is soon to arrive

To be worshipped in schools making learning thrive.

Saraswati** on swan on Shri Panchami*** day

As an idol on school stage, a seat she takes.

She is all white from temple to toes

Except long, black curls where a crown glows.

Teachers and pupils mingle and blend

As devotees they work hard, precious time spend.

Offerings ready and decorations done

Priest chants mantras, unhappy none.

Worship being over, a sumptuous meal

The teachers serve the girls, no big deal.

The bud of a girl now begins to bloom

Petals opened, scent fills the rooms.

Teachers eye each other, sense something weird

Do they portend evil, some imperial beard?

For only for this day the school is open to all

No use now turning their big eye-balls.



Like swarms of bees aiming the blooms

They land in the premises to dispel gloom.

Armed with honeyed word in heart-bow intact,

That’s kept with much care as Cupid’s dart.

Pushing back the cold day the bees invoke Spring,

Flowers flaunt their petals; hues, scents sing.

Blooms and bees can’t speak but Stare

In spite of the Big eye-ball’s Full Glare.

Not each bee for a bloom for some blooms are wise

They know of the hidden stings that might rise.

Better to worship the knowledge-goddess above

Than to fall at this age for the Saint of Love.

The school stays open till dark night

When goddess, girls and teachers enjoy light.

Recitation, exhibition, songs and plays

Fill hearts with joy that sing and sway.

But the whole town is in the grip of love

The saint and goddess stare from above.

Conquering a heart isn’t all that bad,

Let us all be merry and not be sad.



*The first fortnight between New Moon Day and Full Moon Day is called Shukla Paksha.

**Saraswati (Sanskrit: सरस्वती, Sarasvatī) is the Hindu goddess of knowledge, music, arts, wisdom and learning.

***the fifth day in the period of waxing moon when People worship Goddess Saraswati to attain enlightenment through knowledge and to rid themselves of lethargy, sluggishness and ignorance.




Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Conquest @ Poets United






I saw their green skin cringe

as I took this snap

at Jallianwala Bagh*



Their pallor’s silent wail

craved a release

from these vicious forms



The chilling Baisakhi day

is frozen in their leaves

and in this shot



*The Jallianwahla Bagh massacre, also known as the Amritsar massacre, took place on 13 April 1919 when a crowd of nonviolent protesters, along with Baishakhi pilgrims, who had gathered in Jallianwala BaghAmritsarPunjab, were fired upon by troops of the British Indian Army under the command of Colonel Reginald Dyer. The civilians had assembled to participate in the annual Baisakhi celebrations—both a religious and cultural festival for the Punjabis. Coming from outside the city, they may have been unaware of the martial law that had been imposed. The British government released figures stating 379 dead and 1200 wounded.[1][3] Other sources place the number of dead at well over 1000. Wikipedia


Courtesy: Google Image (Baisakhi Day is the Harvest Festival of Punjab)

Posted for Sanaa’s Prompt Nights – A photograph is but a memory in raw format @ A Dash Of Sunny


Shared with Poetry Pantry @ Poets United

Morning’s Blessings

Diamond-fluid from grass tip drops

One beat of the startled heart pops

As the brown ground licks it up

Tiny rainbow perishes in mud

Me the lone on looker

A tiny Tuntuni* floats its song

That alights in heart; passions throng

As the soul holds it tuning in

Music flows in bloodstreams

Me the lone listener

Last night’s bud blooms in light

Calling bees to buzz in delight

Fragrance fox trots with the breeze

Rising nose tips gleefully sees

Me the lone inhaler

The pinkish sun spreads its warmth

From chilled bones smiles birth

In love the soul embraces Earth

Doleful life blends with mirth

Me the lone joiner

Joy in all forms all over strewn

Love in elements prances and runs

Spirit rises in cloud seven

Manna in torrents pours from heaven

Me the lone taster

*Tuntuni is the common tailor bird found across tropical Asia

Posted for my Midweek Motif ~ Blessing @ Poets United


Tell Me What Are They




I see you rise up

the petal stairs of the rose

before taking to your wings.

You then waft, drift along the breeze.

Dainty damsel!

You are not of this world!

None sees you.

To all you’re neither a fairy nor a ghost

but the scent of the rose.

I delight for I see you

the fragrance of the flower ethereal.




You came to me in a nightmare

when stealthily you stepped out

of the fleshy corpse flower.

I wondered if you belonged to this world.

Such a macabre smell you are!

Let alone flying,

I saw you limping

on the ground.

so unsightly!

With carrion flies, beetles

following you.

Seems right companions for you!

Posted for Sanaa’s Prompt Nights: On Popular Demand – Lets gather around for some ghost stories – [8]




Shared with Poetry Pantry #316 @ Poets United




Courtesy: Google Image


Lying supine

one eye half closed

the other one full…


Or scheming?

Better wake up.

Stop being so MeRrY.

Like scourge,



here coMeTh




*I will love Tom & Jerry till my last days 😉



Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Cats @ Poets United


Epic Stingray Migration

Courtesy; Google Image



Cheetah’s heart’s in its feet

Mind in the beady taste buds

A poet in quest for words


      A stingray joy leaps

Delighting in the sun-drops

    The poet finds her prize


    A drenched kingfisher

Alights on a mango branch

      Insomniac poet

Posted for my Midweek Motif ~ Predator and Prey @ Poets United


Reading Cards: Ride & Flight




I ride the crest of the day

with sun plumes on my crown.

I whisper with the night waves

to take me deeper down.

They oblige gifting me

pearls of lost days I had.

The child heart gleefully plays

there’s nothing to make it sad.

The sunny, moonie, starry sails

take me further to Thou.

Cloudy careless chaos brood

while I feather me now.



Posted for Sanaa’s Prompt Nights over @ A Dash Of Sunny ~ Lets take a look at the cards, shall we? – [24]


I selected the Fool tarot card, which is supposed to be my future. It reads like this:

The Fool represents the child within us. A new area of life is explored with spirited carelessness. Remain childlike in this exciting phase. This card also stands for a deeper sense of spirituality. Probably you are about to explore different options. Watch out that you are not focused on just one direction. You are in need of profound knowledge. Your environment may not understand this desire completely. See it through. The fool believes in life and expects his path will be good and rewarding.

– Creative chaos – Fresh start – Careless



source unknown

With this poem Krishna I started blogging. Here it is:


This flute player

Has been creating

Enchanting notes for us.

Yet we have no ears for Him.

His music flows on.

It’s not that no one

Had ever heard Him.

O little Butter Thief

Have pity on us

Will You?


The new (edited) poem:


Not air but love

vibrates when the dark

boy touches his flute.

Yet there’s no taker

of his love.

Eons pass on.


Little butter thief

plays on


in His solitary





Posted for dVerse MTB ~ Let’s Kick It Up a Notch hosted by Victoria



Krishna (/ˈkrɪʃnə/Sanskrit: कृष्ण, Kṛṣṇa in IAST, pronounced [ˈkr̩ʂɳə] (  listen)) is a major Hindu deity worshiped in a variety of different perspectives. Krishna is often described and portrayed as an infant eating (stealing) butter, a young boy playing a flute as in the Bhagavata Purana,[3] a young man along with Radha, a young man surrounded by beautiful women or as an elder giving direction and guidance as in the Bhagavad Gita. They portray him in various perspectives: a god-child, a prankster, a model lover, a divine hero, and the Supreme Being. Worship of the deity Krishna, either in the form of deity Krishna or in the form of VasudevaBala Krishna or Gopala can be traced to as early as the 4th century BC Wikipedia



Word Song (A Haibun)

My heart breaks every time when I hear people say Sanskrit is a dead language, meaning it is not spoken any where any more. Then I wonder at the meaning of ‘Sanskrit’; ‘Refined’ it is. I came to learn that there is no word for expulsion in Sanskrit. What a joy to think of it in these dark days! No wonder we have lost all our refinement in our speech, behavior, taste and living, having traveled so far from the language that gave birth to thousand tongues in this land. Sorry, a mistake; it’s still now a ceremonial language meant for Hindu religious rituals.

I do regret that I have awakened to Sanskrit’s power so late in my life. The words now appear blurred and seen in a dream as it were; they chant to me in their ancient tune to look within and realize them. When I can’t pronounce the masculine words that needs much strength to utter them I am assured by their graceful feminine consorts. It is so shameful that I have even lost the physical strength to bear the grace and beauty of them. So unworthy descendant! Let me chant those mantras that the great ancient seers have left for us: Om Asato maa sad-gamaya (From Unreal [Ignorance] lead me to [Truth] Real), Tamaso  maa jyotir gamaya (From darkness lead me to light), Mrityormaa amrtim gamaya (From death lead me to Immortality). [Material world is regarded as unreal, dark and dead invoking a concept of the transcendental reality: Wikipedia]


 The forest* wakes up

Hymns burst forth in light and song

     My dream melts away





*Vanaprastha (Sanskrit: वनप्रस्थ) literally means “retiring into a forest”.[1] It is also a concept in Hindu traditions, representing the third of four ashrama (stages) of human life, the other three being Brahmacharya (bachelor student, 1st stage), Grihastha (married householder, 2nd stage) and Sannyasa (renunciation ascetic, 4th stage).[2]

Vanaprastha is part of the Vedic ashram system, which starts when a person hands over household responsibilities to the next generation, takes an advisory role, and gradually withdraws from the world.[3][4] This stage typically follows Grihastha (householder), but a man or woman may choose to skip householder stage, and enter Vanaprastha directly after Brahmacharya (student) stage, as a prelude to San yasa (ascetic) and spiritual pursuits.[5][6]

Vanaprastha stage is considered as a transition phase from a householder’s life with greater emphasis on Artha and Kama (wealth, security, pleasure and sexual pursuits) to one with greater emphasis on Moksha (spiritual liberation).[4][7]: Wikipedia

Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ The Song of A Single Word @ Poets United

(Though the Motif was for a single word I used a whole language as a word)

Self Portrait


A fighter I am

wanting to be a smile;

yet I wish not to root out

the wild growth of weedy misery.

They are my prized blowballs*

giving me healing touches

as I try to live and grow with them.

I shall smile.



*Dandelions, a medicinal herb and a food crop.



Posted for Lillian’s hosting dVerse Poets Pub – today’s Quadrille, a self portrait