Bidding Adieu to Shushuks

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GOOGLE IMAGE

Standing in the loin deep water

Of the sacred Ganga*

I’ll take a holy dip-

No-

Not in the name of my ancestors-

No

Not for remission of my sins-

But to say

My prayers

For

The gentle Shushuks**

Who are feebly

Leaving your miracle waters

To become

A still word,

A mere photo-

In print-

 

*The Ganges

 

[**Shushuks are the Gangetic River Dolphins, an obligatory freshwater species, born blind and are facing yet another anthropogenic threat.]

https://youtu.be/M5dbBrNVHkU

 

 

Posted for Sherry’s prompt ~ The Animals of Climate Change @ earthweal

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A Crude Someone

 

A crude someone is anchored

to his wasteland

where root his speaking-trees

leafless and haggard-

he let his mind to be

an intolerant, blazing sky-

and his love to be a gravel ground

to burn your feet-

his day-blind eyes cannot see

the door opening out

where grace and gentleness lie-

 

 

Posted for Sunday Muse #92 hosted by Carrie

This poem is a river, a man and a forest

 

This poem is the wrath of a river

This poem is the dream of a man

This poem is the story of a forest

 

 

This poem is Brahmaputra

Its hungry tide laps up land

Crashing, breaking dreams

Before reaching its salty home

It tears itself to countless streams

Taking the look of torn roots

Of a gigantic banyan tree

This poem is the wrath of a river

 

 

This poem is Jadav Payeng

He is a forestry worker

Living in Majuli Island by the Brahmaputra

The broken nests light a star

In his inner sky

He becomes his own light

And prays for a woodland to take birth

This poem is the dream of a man

 

 

This poem is Molai Forest

Each tree loves a man

Who single handedly

For more than three decades

Created this tree-land

That’s harboring wild life

And fortifying the island

This poem is the story of a forest

 

 

This poem is the flow of tamed anger of a river

This poem is the fulfillment of the deep green dream of a man

This poem is the song of the wild in an unusual forest

 

 

 

[I intended to post this old poem for the “Water” prompt but couldn’t manage as became a bit busy this week. So now.]

 

Posted for earthweal open link weekend #4earthweal open link weekend #4

A Mother’s Lament

 

I thought I was

your rural landscape, your sanctuary-

to my dried up branches,

you’ve tied glassy words

with an evil of their own-

the world hears

sweet tinkling and jingling

of their sound-

yet deep inside

their torque twists my sinews-

my failed leaves sigh-

I am so burnt up-

can I be your home again-

like this burnt up earth

I am forever athirst

for

love-

 

 

Posted for Fireblossom’s picture prompt @ Sunday Muse #91

&

Also shared with earthweal open link weekend #3

Bring Them back

 

When high-rises loom

like apparitions

house sparrows become

shadows and dream-

 

 

my ears thirst for their chirps

eyes for a glimpse

of this passerine bird-

 

 

twigs and straw are my words-

this poem an empty nest-

 

 

is this how the sparrows end-

 

[Factors leading to the decline of house sparrows are; rapidly changing cities that are inhabitable for the bird species, modern infrastructure that does not account for space for the sparrow to nest, and the sharp rise in pollution levels, caused by microwave towers and pesticides. In my hometown, Balurghat, West Bengal a house sparrow is a rarity. I can’t remember when I last saw one]

 

 

Posted for earthweal weekly challenge: Ghosts

Life

This year begins with the ceremony

of darkness-

I can’t sleep. I come out

only to find you rising-

am I able to touch the end of the world then

is it that close-

for I see your eyes leaning on us-

a volcano erupts in your eye-

in one eye-

turning the sky red

while the other one is all ice-

so it is your night

and we are all lemmings?

 

whatever you are

be my poem

and life-

 

 

 

 

Posted for Sunday Muse #90

Shift

 

This maternal river doesn’t go

her own way now-

she’s come at my door step-

we leave

letting our swaths of dream

spanning generations,

to be lapped up

by her once benign tongue-

I hear her sighs

broken into gloomy words :

I am looking for my way lost eons ago

when your barrage came about-

 

 

so

we both

shift-

one another’s kill-

 

[Malda district in West Bengal has lost huge swathes of land to the fury of the river Ganges, and thousands of families have been deprived of their homes and livelihoods.]

 

Posted for earthweal open link weekend #2

Tied Up

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“Take Me Up”  by Lauren Withrow

 

I am tied up to the thoughts

lifting me up towards a dreamscape-

yet I wish to break free

to return-

I cannot look up

for my home

is being consumed

by water

and

fire-

 

 

Posted for Sunday Muse #89

Kindness is a green word

 

Kindness is a green word

of strong roots, serene branches

and massive shades

for your weary soul-

to grow for you a Maldhari* heart

to befriend lions of Gir-

you walk away restored,

pure and buoyant-

even if love becomes an obsolete word

and all mouths talk in tongues of blood-

 

 

*The Maldhari community is a tribe of herdsmen in the border state of  Gujarat, India living in harmony with the wild Asiatic lions of the Gir forest. They have been instrumental in increasing the number of this big cat, almost wiped out in the 19th Century.

Those who are interested can check out this link :

 

https://www.thehindu.com/sci-tech/energy-and-environment/the-prides-of-gujarat/article19777230.ece

 

 

Posting for the first open link@ earthweal