Lust and Love

She smiles, she pines, she blushes and whines,

She dreams about his divine touch.

She drowns in joy, she writhes in pain,

She longs for him, her love is such.

Pangs of desire rush through her blood,

But her childish love makes a musical ripple.

The pain of distance strangles the ballad,

Her heart playing the aching fiddle.

The moon rays pierce her silver skin,

It’s a sweet intoxicating wine.

She loses her thoughts to a lusty sin,

Where plant and weed intertwine.

She’s shaken out of the fantasy

By the breeze of love so pure.

Then blooms the tender pansy,

Spreading the fragrance of love that cures.

She breathes in the scented air,

She feels his breath diffused.

She yearns for his loving care,

His kiss, she is seduced.

A great pyre with a blinding shine,

Voraciously eats her soul,

A struggling scaleless fish is she,

A tramp on an aimless stroll.

She kens two birds unite,

She draws her wish in space.

Won’t he sympathize with her plight,

When all she wants is a glimpse of his face?

Her sapphire eyes shed diamond teardrops,

The pearly sweat trickles down,

Her amber skin that sublimely glows

As she wears that tattered gown.

Tattered from the endless wait,

For the one she pictures in her mansion.

Her heart unceasingly palpitates,

As she restlessly moves with shocking patience.

She’s overwhelmed with emotion,

Love and lust; pain and passion,

For the enticing silhouette in her dreams

Pray he’d soon hear her screams.

Amen.

Cannibal

- Harsh Arora

Hello cold world

I am a cannibal;

I devour the consummate

So well-bred to hate.

For way too long have I seen

The cruel ways of this world;

I beckon the end of your existence

Too naïve in your persistence.

I shall rid you of your illness,

Your bloody salvation is near;

A new dawn I shall witness,

The end of the line is here.

I shall prey on your lust,

Your need for numbing greed.

I will smite you in the dust.

Only then will you be freed.

Crowded streets will clear,

Stunted by their foolish fear;

For fear assumes hope,

 Null shall be the scope.

Your hollow protectors will die

Feeding on the hopes of the wry;

Tranquil wrath of self-perfection

A world plagued by desolation

I will chastise your women,

Then painfully fuck your daughters;

Your sons I will send

Heartily to their slaughter.

Wise men shall sing praises

Of this holy time;

When I cleansed this realm

With your life as my dime.

I pity this resistance,

 To preserve your sustenance.

With you and I giving way to us,

The end, shall be glorious.

For hello cold world,

I am cannibal.

An Epitome of Memories

- Razi Iqbal

An epitome of memories,

I have with her.

The thought of making some more,

Somehow scares her.

I look at her, she smiles shyly

I pull her hair back, she blushes gleefully,

I play with her hands, she holds mine tightly,

I look in her eyes, she gets lost

Somewhere in the abyss of her thoughts,

where I can never reach....

She comes in my dreams,

She conquers my thoughts,

She makes me smile without a pause.

A little mystery is she,

Which I keep trying to solve,

Just when I think I have won her,

She tries to distance herself,

Yeah! without a cause!!

When I am with her,

My life seems perfectly fine.

Mesmerised I am by a lady,

Whom I claim to be mine.

Hard she was to get,

Harder she will be to forget,

How I wish I never have to see a day,

When the closeness will fade away.

Father  time never has mercy on us,

Always goes away fast for a score.

Hope he understood how much we want him,

To stay with us for a bit more.

Holding her in my arms is a pleasure,

It makes me go through a momentary seizure.

Then I realize she is my world,

Where losing her is not an option,

I just hope that,

She does not have a different opinion!!

I love her for giving her heart to me

And trusting me with her pride.

I love her for wanting me

And needing me by her side.

She has been my lucky charm,

From the moment she has arrived.

Everything has gone perfectly,

With she by my side.

I know she will make me cry one day,

But I'll be happy over it.

Not because they will be tears of joy,

But because I know my lady will be worth it.

Distance is just a word,

Which cannot do us apart.

She will always have a part of me,

And remain near me in my heart.

The Orphan

- Priyanka Ravishankar

An empty room,

An open window.

A dreamless night,

A trembling girl.

The howling wind.

The giant shadows,

of the quivering trees,

A trembling girl.

A cricket rehearsing its routine recital,

A leaking pipe, an open tap.

A flickering light peeps through a wedge.

An eerie branch brushes the window ledge.

She lays curled up on her bed,

Hugs her teddy tight.

Counting in vain, conceited sheep

But she only awakens, as the sheep leap.

Her mother doesn’t sing her a lullaby.

Her mother doesn’t tell her a bed time tale.

All she hears is the sleepless owl,

And the singing wind that seems to growl.

There’s nothing that she can do,

But hug her teddy tight,

Pray to God to bring her sleep,

And bravely fight the lachrymal seep.

Her playful, big and blue eyes,

filled with tears of fear,

Look ’round the room, out the window,

Her fingers scratch her forlorn toe.

She braves her fear and gets off bed,

Peeps under it, shivering.

Imagines a blistered evil gremlin,

Her courage’s now tremblin’

But darkness is all that meets her eye!

She creeps back onto that wretched bed.

Pictures her parents sleeping soundly,

Screams to them within, whispering loudly.

She longs for her mother’s lap,

She longs for her father’s hug,

She hugs her teddy tight,

Hugs her teddy tight.

She looks through those plastic eyes

They might have been her father’s,

Searches in them, a loving mother;

Hugs her teddy, her new mother.

She has those who gave her birth,

But the trembling little girl

Is an orphan every night.

She hugs her teddy tight.

The orphan.. hugs her teddy tight.

Kidnapped

- Pooja Karnani

Trying to loosen these knots…

Trying to escape before she is shot.

If she won’t escape, her never dreamt dream

would come true….she cries for help , she screams…

but alas! All in vain…

from head to toe she is chained.

She is in great pain

Whole day and night her eyes rain…

She is locked up in these four walls

For help how many times hasn’t she made a call .

From the window , she gets a view

Where blue birds flew…

She desires to do the same…

Her  rights she wishes to claim.

She wishes to leave away these strands

And travel as far as she can

She thinks about her parents

She misses sharing ice-cream with her friends…

She misses her trustworthy ‘Timmy’

Small fingers of her brother ‘Tiny’

She keeps staring at the roof

Wondering why she is the one who is doomed to stay aloof…!

She yearns for her buddies…she cries for her teddy…

To fulfill their nasty desires she is ready.

If they free her

Her parents are ready to give all the precious pearls.

Staring at the roof , her neck is now in pain ,

Drought has arrived and no more rain…

Then she looks at the ground

And then a secret passage she found…

Without making any noise loud

She managed to open it with her mouth.

In that she her selves poured

And slowly closed back the door.

She dragged herself tied throughout the tunnel

And at the end to escape ,  found a fantastic  funnel…

To her  courage and hope , she gave a proper shape

And this is how she finally escaped….

Outdated Spectacles - Tide of Ambivalent Memories

- Pooja Karnani

Looking at these old pair of glasses
Makes me remind of someone among the masses
I found it in the store room
And it took me to the past very soon

At first I thought..
Who on earth, such old fashioned spectacles would wear..?
Being laughed at would be the fear
Then a voice inside my heart I did hear..
And I found my grandfather very near..

I still remember those fairy tales..
Listening to which in slumber I used to sail..
I used to make him engine of my rail..
His wrinkled hands I used to hold in strong gales..

That sweet taste of candy filled my mouth
That he used to give me..
Grabbing that I used to flee
And used to hide in a corner of the house..
Where I could be found only by a mouse..

On his back I used to have a ride
To lift me he used all his might
For me used to bring my favourite 'jalabees'
He was the owner of all the important keys..
For his services he never asked for any fee
His heart was filled with love and care for me..

On him I used to play funny tricks
Lots of salt in his food once I mixed
Thrice on the ground his shoes I fixed

When he went out to attend the fair..
To reach the top shelf I fetched a chair
Quickly I opened his wardrobe
And all the sweet candies I stole..

He used to narrate stories to me in the night..
Moral values inculcated by him, for me are a source of light

These spectacles though outdated,
Painted all the memories that had faded.
In my life he played a guide's role..
Now my guide is his soul..

This is such a precious thing I have found,
These spectacles which are round..
But my memory also revived those sounds..
When my grandfather was tied in a shroud..

Everyone's heart one day fails..
Crying for that loss we fill pails..
Though on this earth,
he took birth..
but one day everything comes to an end..
this sour truth, neither me nor you can amend…! 

I Tried to Draw

Rishav Kumar Thakur

I tried to draw, for someone,
and I made my long fingers
encase pencils and pens
to guide
impressions
on a hand-made sheet of art paper.

On it I seemed to be
charging
directionless
in a way,
translating
making journeys,
between different media
to create what was
or what still is
(for time is confused in here)
flowing
everywhere but becoming
liquefied;
the moment I thought back to recollect
how I had seen it back there.

I filled in, drew lines, made scratches and eyes.
I had created a portrait at last
and it was nothing very great.
But there was something inexplicable in it
which left me
upset,
like when a sudden insight catches one
unawares –

It could not be displayed.

Cavatina

Aishani Das


Nyx dawned, so cold and still
And wrapped the world in thrill.
Cynthia gleamed: her cusp in dew
Against the starry night's pale black hue.

I walked down the road not taken
Skirted by meadows long forsaken.
The wind brushed Her face with mine.
The cool lake rippled under the moonshine,
Cestrum nocturnum lent it's fragrance to the night.

The wind is new, silken and fair;
Intangible it is, like what we share.
The dew is soft, cool and wet;
Like the eternal solace from you I get.
The night is whole, mystic and clear;
Like the love for you in my heart I bear.

Today as I walk, I think of you
On the morrow, it'll be the same too;
For it is you, who taught me right from wrong
And lent your voice to sing my song.
Upon truth, honour and humility you always stressed
And told me how grace was the best.

You are that shining beacon of light,
Imperishable and pristine.
I thank you every night and day,
And pray for you in churches on my way.

And yet with the Time that took flight,
My fears stood right.
“Who are you?”
You ask me now.
I kneel down to you and take a bow.
A tear from my eye crashes against your toe.
“Nobody” I say, with my head bent low.

Delicious Ambiguity

Ritika Bansal

My English teacher at school                                                
Taught us that it is either black
Or white.

My psychology teacher told me that,
Along with blacks and whites,
There are greys.

And so, being in ambiguity
Over the question of ambiguity,
In a delicious ambiguity, I lay.

This ambiguity, I believe, was much
Like the taste of a kiwifruit:
With not much juice,
Not exactly sour, but never too sweet.
And yet I relish it with so much glee.
With my eyes squinted, I savoured its taste
Until only those crunchy seeds remained,
Here-there to surprise me again.
And without regard to what people say,
In a delicious ambiguity, I lay.

I had a friend who was a painter.
His strokes were fine,
His imagination wild
He had a palette of colours, so bright
Obscuring comprehensions about what he drew
I asked him what he wanted to prove,
But he merely sighed
In such ambiguity, yes, I take delight.

And then there was he,
Who transformed my being.
He was like the morning dew,
Like the fragrance of an exotic perfume,
Like a little speckle of talcum on a surface hot:
He was an angelic mirage, or not?
There one moment, and the next had him gone afar,
He was my polestar.

In ambiguity, I revelled in his presence.
Often strangely, even in his absence.
With a panache of his own,
He plays with my emotions,
And drifts in and out of my life
With great commotion.

Even though I know he can never feel this way
For me,
And constantly takes refuge in words
Like 'perhaps' and 'maybe'.
Plunged into the abyss of uncertainty,
I am in love with this delicious ambiguity

That is Love

A Poem by Priyanka Ravishankar

The mother who kisses her child’s nose,

Like a dewdrop falls on a rose,

That is love.

The father who lets her stumble and learn

Like a spider climbing up the wall of a tavern,

That is love.

The brother who wipes her precious tears

Blows away her entangled fears,

That is love.

The sister who fights for the mirror and dress

But gives up her love, for her happiness.

That is love.

The lover who drowns in the depth of her eyes

Like a pebble sinking in a sack of rice.

That is love.

The friend who lets her hair down with her,

Like the careless wind carrying a leaf-ladder,

That is love.

The child who keeps her on her toes running,

Like the water in an eddy, spiralling,

That is love.

God who gave her this litchi garden

Made her heart soften and skin harden,

That is love.

She, who is grateful for this wonderful treasure,

For letting her be a child, sister, friend, wife, mother,

That is love.

A Poem: Conundrum Of Emotions

source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/16115226@N07/1906192830/

The following poem is by Sayali Saoji, a member of the poetry team in Yamuna 2010-11.

Feeling lonely and lost

She woke up perplexed

Shaky and dizzy

Pondering over the vague mystery

Intimidated by the new ambience

She felt like a novice

The past glory vanquished

What all life had to offer

She had a whole lot of things to discover

With the best of efforts

She still seemed to be transfixed by the quandary

Couldn’t figure out what was really wrong

Cacophony of emotions reared in the mind

Everything looked so dispiriting and disheartening

She just closed her eyes

And let the whole feeling sink in

All she needed was the moment with herself

Then there was composure

And her poise returned

When everything was subdued

The solace she found

She realized would have been

Had she not mulled over the conundrum at all.

A Poem: Left Fathoms Below

The following poem is by Arushi Parmar. She is a member of the poetry team in Yamuna ’10.

The whisper that left her parched lips

was nothing more than a voiceless prayer.

The silent cry of pain she let out

was just a crouching desire to fail the fear.

Swinging her mind away from the aimless stranded life,

she made her way to the dainty dwelling house

where her happiness was stabbed by the worldly knife

where her soul and spirit were sucked and left out.

There she avidly wanted to treasure that dwindling moment.

not wanting to curb the ever-so-painful vague memory

when the hand she crowned the most

left her fathoms below her shimmery paradise.

She lay there, embossed in the listening wall

trying to unravel the mystery behind the young girls great loss,

who though wanted to be agnostic, still searched for answers from God and all,

but now a woeful colleen, is eager to be liberated from

the inescapable, infernal land.