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Best Poems Written by Akham Nilabirdhwaja Singh

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In Silence

In that rainy night
near her home
at the distance
a lone electric lamp shone; 
dribbling raindrops seen 
flickering in its light.
She might be sleeping then.
I was driving my car
in the rain 
towards my far home
in the city.

Details | Akham Nilabirdhwaja Singh Poem

A Strange Dream

Recently in my dream
a wild pigeon flew inside my house
landed on the corridor and
turning into a  baby
came toddling to me.
I lifted him,held  in my arms
and loitered here and there.
I asked , “Dear,
when will you turn again into a bird ? “
But before listening his reply
I woke up from  sleep.
It was five morning ,
chirping of the birds heard
three wild pigeons  walking
on the courtyard .
I have some fruit trees growing
at the backward and courtyard
of my house 
on which they usually perch.

Details | Akham Nilabirdhwaja Singh Poem

That Banyan Tree

The  village  where  my  father was  born.
After  so  many  years
Still  not   changed
Except  that    electricity   arrived  there ,
The  road  blacktopped  ( yet  deteriorated ).
And  thatch  roof  houses  now  a  days  hardly  seen
Yet  what  I wonder  is
As  seen  in  my  childhood  long  ago
The  village  road  today  also  is  lonesome,
Cactus  and  wild  bush  plants  in  that  quietness 
Still   growing  here  and  there  by  the  roadside.
And  sprawling  paddy  fields  are  as  calm
And  beautiful  as  seen  from  the  road  long  ago.
The  aged  banyan  tree  standing  on  the  meadow
At the roadside  is  still  in  its  grandeur.
Under  it I saw my grandfather cremated,
Consigned  to  flames
When I was a boy about 10 years old.

My  grandfather  during  his  youthful  days
Sometimes  might  be  resting 
Under  that  banyan  tree
Tired  of  wayfaring  or working  in  the  paddy  field.
Sometimes  he  might  be  waiting 
For  somebody  he  loved  under  it
Wearing  kurta ,dhoti,and  clogs .

My  father  died  six  years  ago 
And  myself  today  is  an  old  man
Yet  whenever  I  visited  the  village
And  saw  the  lonely  old  banyan  tree
I  remembered  the  days   I spent  there during  my  childhood
Particularly  the  day  my  grandfather  died
And   cremated  under  it.

The  old  peepal    tree ,
Growing  at  the  gate  of  my  residence
By  the  side  of  the  busy  road ,
Often  I  collect  its  fallen  leaves  with  a  broom
In  the  winter  mornings  and  burn  them.
Yet  never  pondered  about  its  long  past.


12th August 2012

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No True Repeats In Life

One  calm evening
on a leisure  drive  with  my  wife
along  the  national  highway 
Imphal  Dimapur road 
I remembered 
my overnight  road journeys
to Guwahati for office works
sometimes together with  her
before retirement a decade ago.
Tedious journeys
riding through the winding hilly roads
of Manipur and Nagaland
yet exciting beautiful scenary,
Intermittent stops,
taking tea and snack at short stops,
riding through the busy marketplaces
in Dimapur and Assam
songs from the hindi films,
from the market places,hotels
and inside the bus,
a longer stop at Jakhlabanda
for all to take food and rest .
At last reaching Paltan Bazar
in the morning
looking for a hotel. 
We decided then
once again to go to  Guwahati
when the covid pandemic over
boarding a  night super
to recreate once our past journeys.
Back home our little grandson waiting
for us to play with me.
I remembered then,
as the days,months,and years gone
there will be no true repeats in life.

Details | Akham Nilabirdhwaja Singh Poem

A Traditional Housewife

The  woman,my aunt 
(She got little education)
married at young age
to  the  eldest  son  of  the parents
of  a big  family.

She woke up early in the morning
at the crow of the cock
and swept the dirt floor of the house
and outhouse with a broom
often wiping with a nura(cloth)
applying cow dung and water.

After that,she took bath at the pond and clothes changed
wiped with a nura wet with water
the surface before the holy Basil(Tulasi)plant
planted in the middle of the courtyard
and surfaces at the portico and inside the house
where the family Deities supposed residing.
After these completed she prayed the Deities and holy Basil
burning mekruk(,an incense),
the prayer once again repeated at dusk
lighting a lantern or candle.

Usually she grinding,hand pounding and flapping paddy
cooking food burning firewood and serving  the family members
cleaning the kitchen and utensils,sometimes cutting firewoods.
weaving at the fly scuttle loom in the outhouse,
washing clothes for the family members.

God fearing she treated her father and mother in laws with respect
usually they reign over her,
treated the younger brothers and sisters of her husband
like her children.

Many children she given birth
But unfortunately she died at young age.

After she died
I sometimes remember her as a symbol
of the housewives of the agrarian society 
of the long past.

Details | Akham Nilabirdhwaja Singh Poem

Faith, Pain and Relief

An old man of my locality ,
( he had no issue) 
about fifty years ago
well known mainly amongst the local people
and neighbouring places
for his  knowledge of the native Pantheon
evil spirits and ghosts .
To me he was a repository of our old culture,
custom and tradition.

Often he conducted rituals
to ward off the ghosts and evil spirits
from the homes and
persons possessed by them
and to cure people of the illnesses
mostly due to the sacrilege committed. 

One day his wife fell ill,
yet, he did not call doctors
instead performed  the rituals ,
sought what the deities would tell
for the cure in his sombre dreams.

Of no avail ,
she died after prolong illness.
But he felt the pang not for long .
"What we the humans can do 
if God so destined ? “ he asked.

The old man lived long
looked after by a close relative
never consulting a doctor
nor taking pharmaceutical drugs
not having faith in their efficacy
and sanctity.



(The poem dramatised under the title FAITH, PAIN by People's Arts and Dramatic Association ,and directed by Laishram Randhoni Devi was the Second Best play in the Creative Directors' Short Play Competition 2022 organised by THEATER CENTER under the aegis of SANGEET NATAK ACADEMY,NEW DELHI.In all the play won seven different awards )

Details | Akham Nilabirdhwaja Singh Poem

I Wished

In  a fine weather 
In your garden 
I  wept 
When the gentle breeze blew .

When the fragrance felt 
Of  the champaka flower,   
When a wild  pigeon  cooed 
Roosting at the tree branch yonder, 
When egrets  seen  flying 
Towards the distant blue hill  
In a fine weather 
I  wept   
In solitude 
In your garden .

Details | Akham Nilabirdhwaja Singh Poem

Remembering the Past

A loving cousin brother,
Nongmaithem Manihar Singh ,
maternal cousin 
decades not seen
after his death I went
to his house at Yairipok Bazar
to attend his Asti Sanchay.

That country market place
miles away from my house in Imphal
I have not gone since long,
during my childhood long ago
when I went there many times
it was a small market place
busy only at dusk
selling mainly agricultural produces.

At the time of the death of his mother,
my aunt more than two decades ago
it was still a small traditional marketplace.
My mother her sister died
more than two decades earlier than her.
After they died our relationship distanced
long we have not seen one another.

That day
the setting of the rural landscape
there seen much changed 
than last seen decades ago.
The market place far bigger than before,
modernised and crowded .
I recollecting then it's old days,
and my life long past  there.




20.01.2021

Details | Akham Nilabirdhwaja Singh Poem

An Adventure In Darkness

One night  returning  home from the marketplace 
Street lights  suddenly gone.
I could see the road rolling in the headlight of my car.
After driving for some time I reached a place
By the side  of a streamlet.
Yet there is no streamlet   in my locality
Nor on the way  from that market place to my home.
Confused I turned back but reached at another place.
This time by the side of a rill water  hyacinth  floating.
Some houses standing quietly in the darkness
On  its other bank.
Again I failed to know where I was
It seemed nature disguised herself in another garb.

Then, to my relief in that lonely atmosphere
I saw some local youths loitering.
I asked them  the way to  my locality.
One of them told me the directions of the routes to go.
I resumed driving my car to the direction he told .
After driving some distance  on the right turning roadway
I saw some women  standing  on the roadside
A  pressure lamp placed before them.
Oh, a  beautiful girl I saw among them !
She deserved to be a maiden in an oasis
To a tired wayfarer who lost his ways in the desert.

I politely asked them  the way to my locality
Not sure  although told by those youths  which  direction to go.
One of them   told me to go further till a crossroad
There to turn left and drive to find my locality.
I again drove my car.
Then the street lamps illuminated and  I knew
The place where I  was .
Oh, that was the place I frequent  and 
Not far from my locality.

I reached home out from a big puzzle.
But felt , that night  I roamed to  unknown places
Exotic  in the darkness of the night .
It was an exciting experience . 

25th April 2008

Details | Akham Nilabirdhwaja Singh Poem

A Tale of the Crows

Some  crows  living  in  a  banyan tree in a jungle 
Wanted  to  look  themselves  like  peacocks,
Wished  to  dance  like  peacock s  in  the  rains .
So  they  wore  the  fallen  feathers  of  the peacocks
If  not  available  their   artificial  feathers.
They  claimed  that  their  forefathers  were  peacocks .
And   named   the banyan tree  as  Peacocktree 
Discarding   the  earlier  name  by  their  ancestors ..

As  the  years  rolled  some  nomadic  peacocks
In  various  forums  inside  and  outside  the  jungle
Claimed the Peacocktree  and surrounding places
As  their  ancestral home.
They  contended  that , long  ago  
The  crows  started  migrating  there from other places
And  identified  themselves  as  descendants of peacocks.
As  their  population   increased  much  more   
Than  that   of  peacocks  in  course  of  time
They  ousted  the  peacocks  from  their  home .

Some  learned  crows  decried  as   fictitious
The   tale  presented  by  the  peacocks  .
That,  Peacocktree  was  not  the  original name
Of  the  tree  they  are  living  since  long
Nor  the  peacocks  were  forefathers  of  the  crows
As  claimed  by  the  crows  long  ago.

The  claim  and  counterclaim  were  going  on.