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Sangeeta Saha Poem
SPRING IN AIR, LOVE ONLINE 20/02/13
Nowadays , life is so unpalatable and stoic.
So unnecessarily busy and eventfully hectic.
Young folks thus gather in a shadowy discotheque, to kill,
The retreating winter shedding its last chill.
The chirps of the departing migratory,
With massacred green in a concrete urban factory,
Welcomes the spring breeze, and the cuckoo melody tune,
That too so rare,
For a short term vacation, in a vanity fair.
Some emotional fools and roaming vagabond,
Can feel the spring air and reminiscences their fond,
And cry for the past and the long lost love bonds.
Beside them no one dares to mingle,
Their soul with the colour of butterfly twinkle.
No one cares to see the young green boughs,
Dancing in a frolic of crispy air that jingle.
All is there, in the air, except love my dear,
‘Cause love is now confined,
In another little world so secure.
Where there’s no hasty rushing,
No meaningless blushing,
No hassled waiting, no worrying restriction.
Love is just a ready-made parcel,
At a press of a small button.
Love messages, e mails , tweets, face books ,web cyberspace and profile update,
Takes all the bothering responsibility, does all the necessary tete-a-tete.
No need for time taking arguments,
No need for extra commitments.
Sometimes, meetings could be arranged, but
Oh! Never in public park or in a hopeless garden.
It could be in a shopping mall or a cool coffee den.
The gorgeous and the grotty,
All gather at a V-day party.
Those who are privileged,
Share their love with diamonds and wine.
But for others, not a single grape,
Is sour in a vine.
Everything is taken for granted,
Just simple and fine.
‘Cause love can also be shared,
Simply free of cost on line.
Copyright © Sangeeta Saha | Year Posted 2013
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Sangeeta Saha Poem
‘Come on, you can do it! Take a deep breath, gulp the pain and push it down,...’
The young would be mother bore the labour with a ray of hope in her tearful eyes
Clasping her hands she prayed ‘ Let it be a girl, O God, with all your blessings bestowed upon.’
Her in-laws hoped for a grandson, but her mother gave her a book of all the brave girls known.
Slowly she bent down her tired head and felt as if she was confined in a dark cell, dirty and cold
With a smell of death and a metal rod, poking her body painfully, attached with a bolt.
‘Come on, open your mouth and speak up, you shameless spy! Or else ,
I’ll surely smash your pretty face so that neither you could talk or cry.’
‘Beat me, you beast, as hard as you can! Cause I shall never betray my nation or my countryman.’
All of a sudden she seemed to be floating high aloft, over the dense cloud and dark smog.
‘Come on, open your eyes wide and focus hard, look for the hidden mount edges,
It’s not just a fancy craft, it’s the Thunder Bird! You have to cross the sixty million miles
Neither you get a proper meal, nor can you rest or smile.’
Now she was running miles panting for breath.
‘Come on, stay on your track, go on speeding ahead.
Let your thirsty throat long for a droplet, let the tongue suck your dripping sweat
Cause the first to touch the ending rope is obvious in your fate.’
A black eye, a bloody nose, knuckles full of blisters, but still she’s alert and ready for combat.
‘Come on, now hit right and swiftly turn to left, focus on every step of your opponent.
Smash, punch, blow hard! Just like Rani Laxmi slaying foes with the baby on her back.’
Snow was everywhere, mercilessly cold and barren.
An avalanche almost buried her! But nevertheless she climbed the vertical icy sheets,
Defending the cold winds and the minus Celsius. ‘Go on climbing, yes you can do it!
You need to climb just three thousand feet more to reach the summit.’
Suddenly, all the pain vanished as she heard some distant bells chiming
A Mother clad in soothing white was holding a child, her wrinkled eyes smiling.
‘So, as I wished, it’s a girl after all!’ said the baby’s granny, ‘and what will you name this li’l fairy,
Eileen, Nicole, Usha, Mary or Bachendri?’
‘Agnes, she will be called Agnes. She will fight for humanity, but in silence.
With a zeal of will power she’ll thrive for the poor and yet be humble.
She will teach the society to be brave to face the malaise and yet be sensible.’
A TRIBUTE TO THE BRAVE WOMEN OF THE WORLD.
Copyright © Sangeeta Saha | Year Posted 2016
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Sangeeta Saha Poem
BORN AT 47
I am born , now at the age of forty seven
I am surprised, as I seemingly feel
The same fresh air of thrill
May be how the freedom starved folks felt
In the historic year of nineteen forty seven.
The early days passed away with distracted aims
The appreciated hidden talents were just like some game.
The happy go lucky nature, never led me to a special feature
So many chances, so many goals,
Looked like a long way with many a pot holes!
The path of an achiever had never been so easy,
A slight change in decision, made my life busy.
I acted many roles, as if on a stage at motion
Mother,daughter,tutor, partner, all with great devotion
Some deeds were applauded, some remained unsung
Some feathered me a perfectionist,but most seemed undone.
Mixed feelings went side by side,creating an unknown apprehension
The prized acts of my progeny were my only aspiration.
Years passes by,responsibilities changes,
Days became less tiresome, nights full of avenges.
The bejeweled life filled with ethical deem,
Left me a non living, without any esteem.
In such a lifeless forlorn evening
A little friend held my arms
And led me to the path of silver lining
I am born again..........afresh anew
In an ecstasy of finding out
The hidden and lost views.
A part of my own soul,
A part of my heartbeat
A daughter turned friend nurtured my dreams
In a fashion offbeat.
Now I have a new little world of my own
Where nobody can question or show me a frown.
I fill my heart with music
I fill my mind with words
I feel the urge to step ahead
Of the never ending crowd
So what,if I am not an opportunist!
So what, if I am not a protagonist!
I'm still enjoying my budding fragrance
In a golden dawn, breaking the cloud of mist
Copyright © Sangeeta Saha | Year Posted 2013
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Sangeeta Saha Poem
The Estranged [A dedication]
Jay was sitting in his small cell
His head resting on the rails
Staring with an absent minded wonder
At the raiment on his shrunken shoulder.
Is he the same man! or a shadow of
Jay Sen the scholar, the stylist philanthropist
The graceful spendthrift, a sophisticated sophist.
When did his advent venture turned into adversity!
When did he turn an addict, refusing golden opportunity
He couldn't make up his mind
He couldn't cope up with the blind
Those who can't differ
A gold and a plated glitter!
Those who have used him and
Threw him like a burnt cigar.
The cynical pseudos who blamed him a psychic
Accordingly they deserved blows and kick.
To some 'normal humane' this was unusual
An act of violence, not so sane and frugal
From then Jay's address is 'the Asylum',
The 'kind' home for mentally disturbed hoodlums.
Just then he saw himself
In a half burnt cigar, the warden threw.
Smoke was still rising, it's still alive, he knew.
He wanted it so badly, he stretched his hand out of the rails
And a sudden pain gripped him
A hooked rod ripped him
Drawing back his bloody knuckles
Jay cries a song of pathos
A rhapsody of agony mixed with rage
Fills the air of the dim lit cage
The half dead creatures exhales sighs of sorrow
And thus the sighs and cries moves on
As great waves of echos.
One night an angel surely came for Jay
With a candle glowing with a serene light
Not for money,not for fame, but only to spread love
And took away all the painful humility like a feather touch of a dove.
She made the disturbed calm and quiet
Mr. Jay is a reformed man now, always happy and satisfied.
Copyright © Sangeeta Saha | Year Posted 2013
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Sangeeta Saha Poem
Camouflage
At the commencement of creation,
God had in mind a wondrous notion.
One will thrive killing the other creature,
To protect the weaker, He gave them some defensive feature.
Some with thorns, other with horns,
Some with wings, other with a sting.
Some with tooth, or with claws,
But for human, He gave brains to make some laws.
The laws made man civilized,
With hidden tooth and claw.
With brain he made weapons,
A fatal boon for the foe.
With democracy came non violence,
A wise man should show humanity,
And should not disgrace innocence.
Hence he took the easiest defense,
Camouflage is a safe way, without any offence.
Like a chameleon he changes colour,
To fit in his surroundings,
He despise in disguise,
Betraying moral bondings.
Some self centered issues,
Causes ruthless destruction.
It's a shame for the whole mankind
To be said as God's greatest creation.
Copyright © Sangeeta Saha | Year Posted 2013
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Sangeeta Saha Poem
THE JOURNEY OF LIFE
The journey of life,
Like a dream never ending
Unknown destination, consequences unseen.
Yet one has to live for another,
The one who seldom sparks as a lightning
To show the brighter path among
others which are darkening.
Family and friends loves you,
Your body and mind.
But yet your soul seeks and keeps on seeking,
Until it finds the real truth of life
which lies covered underneath the ashes of illusion.
The truth is that you have to be brave,
To leave aside all the relations,
To end the journey all alone,
To be intimate with immortality,
with peace in your mind and not with a mourn.
Copyright © Sangeeta Saha | Year Posted 2013
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