Love is a similitude diva of a butterfly soaring- A Song of Nazrul Islam Babu (Niaz Mohammad Chowdhury)
Love is a similitude diva of a butterfly soaring higher on a flight of blindfolded pastime
A restful walk through the memory lane, a glimpse into the mirror of a tranquil mind, to be rueful, once again
Some of all these are longing, some are doodling to yearn
The churn of the longing to meet the asymptotic is no more to be nominative, still undone.
Yet again, love thrive to reborn, to beseech lover's reach, nonetheless
Some ponder love a heart song, a ripple on a pristine mirror
Once broken, the stain is irreversible to realm into oblivion
Eternally bonded, to reign through the saga of longing again.
11-9-2024
November, Dallas
1.Gandhi was India's greatest leader who united his People..
2.How many among us have the balls to admit our mistakes??
3.In 1934,gandhi withdrew from active Politics for Harijans..
4.He was the one who renamed dalits as Harijans??
5.Dalits got reservations because of entire constituent assembly and
Parliament which was composed mainly of general category Hindus..
Note.Sometimes we have to be our own Police..
Time sada chukay bilu Mori
Gal vich eday kali dori
Time sada chukay bilu Mori
Shayer babu ay munda lahori
Time sada chukay bilu Mori
Baanh vich kara chapal peshori
Time sada chukay bilu Mori
Ay laga phiray chori chori
Time sada chukay bilu Mori
Khuda janda recce de story
Time sada chukay bilu Mori.
Note. Ham kis marz ki dava hain.
Come on, Exiles
To a banquet in Nigeria.
Hear now, the voice of jamboree
You deaf,
Perhaps, the blind can see the assorted service,
Look here! Men do not sleep at night,
Who dares to sleep and give up his dreams?
The youths;
Toil all day, but
Reap sorrows and heartbreak.
Upon the riches of this clime,
Men dies paupers.
Look what goes on over here,
This is a casket of shame,
Disgruntled soul
Being buried in debt.
How do we pay off our fathers’ debt?
Our inheritance of distress,
Our fate is bleak.
Of all these wealth and abundance;
I have five fingers on my right, and
Five on my left,
My foot is not flat,
I can trek to Lagos for Babu.
I will keep walking
Till I reach my stretch, and
Give up my shame.
I SALUTE BABU KUNWAR SINGH
Let me tell you the story of a true warrior king,
‘Ran Bankura’, grand old Babu Kunwar Singh;
Who was a land lord
But wielded the sword!
Remember the rebellion of 1857, when India had a first shout
Babu Kunwar led it in Bihar and did it without any doubt.
Imagine the wonderful forests, ground and ‘the cave’, who witnessed the gorilla warfare
In a fight of pride and honor when everything was not fair.
The neighing horses, the collision of swords and a command of old man
He will not get defeated, that is the best he can!
He was old yet brave, he died a master and not a slave.
It tells us there is no age to fight,
What matters is the spirit and the feel for right.
We all know of Jack n Jill but
Shouldn’t we know the old man’s will!
The force was grounded, his hand was wounded.
He went ahead and cut his hand,
To protect his people and to free his land.
It was an email from Dr Mugundi Babu
My friend it said, I have good news for you
I am the Chancellor of Barantiastu
With millions of $$$$$$$$$$$$ to share with you
This country behind me, this country I leave
But I have one last trick, here up my sleeve
Your bank account details is all that I beg
So with you I can share, this fine golden egg
I didn’t believe all this s—t
So I deleted it
Kifo Sukari (Death Sugar)
Tamu kwa onja,
asali siagi laana busu
Sweet to taste,
honey butter curse kiss
Kifo sukari binti tamaa ...
death sugar daughter avarice
Honey bee got sugar daddy greed,
fly girl gon be the take queen
Old men desiring to be young again,
get pocket stung by hip sway ogling
Kijivujivu babu penda ain’t what
a upepo mwanamke is looking for
A wind woman don’t want gray grandfather love ...
only kijani sukari do she green sugar want more of
When all the world is a giant burden,
Banerji sir, my colleague, a true SST Allen.
“Maan ki bat Modi ke Sath; rest other shun,”,
Says always my friend Banarji, never stun
Or stagger or startle, never remains barren.
Best friend who teaches Dhruvi and others Balkan,
Or India with psychology, without an apron.
Kenil, Hari, Bhavin, Shivani had some unban;
With Favourite dish of Dada, a fish; talks on Patan,
Sings hymns, buzzes about Mahakali one.
Says, “Your age is less than my profession.”
Scolds us, “Worst batch of year” – a Pun?
He is Bangali babu, wears dhoti, kurta even,
Talks about SST, and about doors wide open.
He is a Brahman, takes plausible action,
Wearing a chevron, is our Divine’s lion.
Meshwa, Diya, and Pitambar are clearly won,
With Aryan, Harsh, Nupur, Dishal and billion.
Let it be Shakespeare or Keats or Byron
He is through with all, has a great fortune.
Appreciates my Monorhyme and region
Never keeps quiet, but is pure bullion.
Dear to my students, Esha, Jeet or Rohan.
Prosper a lot is my wish, Oh! Aaron!
when i see a mexican dragging a cart full of refuse
I say gracias espera voy regresar con una bolsa con gusto
por usted and if chinese I do not speak mandarin or cantonese
and just a yo will do as I am not choosy to feed your children
a world for us to share babu in a taxi and so hello good by
see you tomorrow in my dreams as they are vivid hubber
Early morning I have to wake up and catch the train.
Distance long and crowd among, early start the only way
Mortgaged soul, lend heart and invested brain
Up to this journey what I've lost and what is gain
Calculated not what I posses and what to pay
Mortgaged soul, lend heart and invested brain
Daily spin the words, infertile ideas I toil to explain
They call me *babu, office assistant you better say
Early morning I have to wake up and catch the train.
Contrary policies and balance to maintain
Malice, greed, pride sharp word spikes and I’m the prey
Mortgaged soul, lend heart and invested brain
You know the story of rabbit visiting lion’s den
Heap of bones, going in foot prints no signs out way
Early morning I have to wake up and catch the train.
Call it cycle of life or the destruction chain
Earning sources, Means of livelihood taking lives away
Early morning I have to wake up and catch the train.
Mortgaged soul, lend heart and invested brain
First time exprimenting with Villanelle poetic form. comments are welcome!
babu is a common word for office clerk in India
The clumsy beauties come knitted to the yard,
Slithering on the dewy glassy grass,
As usual.
Two mongooses in natty brown coats
Are looking for the fare scrap, if any thrown out.
The dawn window creaks as it opens its eye,
And Master Babu darts out to enact
His typical character with stones.
Forgiveness is their emblem, the mongooses
Return in the dawns, making Babu busy.
As these brown emperors reign among shrubs,
Serpents keep miles away: the brown saviours.
But Babu stoops to the pelting raptures,
Then the mongooses retreat into the chinks.
Yet, their presence is felt in the intermittent shriek.
The wild plants nod and one mongoose comes without
Its mate this dawn, "Where is the other?”.
Babu dashes out, but picks not stones up.
Every hole and every nook in and out the yard,
Master Babu seeks on.But he returns in fatigue,
Scuffling his shoes on the back of despair.
Next days also, he seeks the missed like a man.
Thus he seeks and grows…………………….
FABIYAS M V
Voice Of Unfortunate
-Azad Babu
Today our want is
Some food to live;
We want no so ease,
Only need relief.
Our dream is naif,
We do ever combat
With lack of life,
Hap is our regret!
We dark by polity;-
Be poor by canker,
King isn’t hearty,
So, we hate any war.
Now we are cipher,
So, none us honour!