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Subroto Sinha Poem
I am a terrible virus, fast and wise
400 micron plus is roughly my size
I am a zoonotic, Corona is my name
Infecting unwary humans is my game
I remain on ground and not in the air
To catch careless humans unaware
On a metal surface I survive for 12 hours
After that period I lose all my powers
If I fall on fabrics I stay alive for 9 hours
To kill me, the fabrics need good showers
Or a 2-hour exposure to bright sunshine
Will succeed in sending me forever offline
I can survive 10 minutes on human hands
Handwash with a sanitizer can upset my plans
Exposing me to temperatures of 27o C plus
Will send me to RIP without any fuss
My conduciveness to pandemic brings me fame
Leaking into the human lungs is my aim
Countries get panicky as my presence is felt
Commotion everywhere to seek a safety belt
My name evokes terror in every mind
Doctors get worried as I’m a unique kind
Old vaccines and medicines do not work
Fear of my presence makes the people berserk
Race, nationality is of no concern to me
I invade places as far as my eye can see
Changing greeting customs is also my flair
From handshakes to folded hands in the air
Whosoever comes in my way I do not spare
Whether Presidents or cobblers I don’t care
People feel greatly relieved when I die away
They pray that I don’t resurrect another day
Copyright © Subroto Sinha | Year Posted 2020
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Subroto Sinha Poem
Start
Enclosed in a glass casket
Cuddled in a flower-decked basket
She lay serene as ever
No sign of her past fervor
Resting in her last abode
Before the journey by road
To her final burial site
For performing the last rite
Dignitaries came to pay their last respect
Placed a wreath, sad and circumspect
Consoled the members who were dear
To reduce their sorrow and repress a tear
She ruled the state for over a decade
Hailed as the Iron lady, never swayed
Adored by the masses, especially poor
She was the mother to all and a doer
Millions of mourners thronged the street
Wishing she was alive for them to meet
Sea of humanity surged in a melancholy state
Thumping their chests and lamenting their fate
Alas! She can’t hear their mourning cries
It’s a feeling no one can ever reprise
Slowly the coffin was lowered into the grave
The sea responded with a mighty wave.
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Copyright © Subroto Sinha | Year Posted 2016
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Subroto Sinha Poem
Start
The other day I heard my friend was sad.
I met him to ask him about the reason
but, he was upset and his mood was very bad.
So I had to confine my conversation to the season
and the possibility of the advent of early spring.
I had to leave him in the existing state of his mind.
Why are we concerned about the state of somebody’s mind?
I wondered. Perhaps, we do not wish to see him appear sad.
Inherently, we want him to appear like the flowers that blossom in spring
to attract the bees and honey birds. This is the reason
why we relate all happiness to this auspicious season.
In our happiness we remember what is good and forget everything bad.
The mind, in its own way, reacts to the events, good and bad.
The behavioral pattern is a reflection of the state of the mind,
which is influenced, amongst other things, by the season.
During dull, rainy season, the mind tends to be sad
and one becomes irritated at the least pretext. The reason
why we feel happy again is the enchanting environment in spring.
Poets have written adorable verses eulogizing spring
There is happiness all around and nothing can be bad.
But, are we that blessed that there can be no reason
for any news or events to upset the state of the mind?
In a short span of time a happy person can become sad
irrespective of whatever might be the season.
If it is an icy cold, stormy night in the winter season
in stark contrast to the warm and colorful spring
and I’m holed alone in my log hut, I cannot help but feel sad.
I ruminate on my fate and wonder why my luck is so bad
I think of happy times and drive evil thoughts out of my mind,
only to increase my resistance to cold and not for any other reason.
If one is determined not to be happy, there are many reasons
to find fault with everyone and also the seasons
He sees only the negative side of things and trains the mind
to color the world in black and dampen the spirit of spring.
He fails to smell the fragrance, but smells only the odors that are bad
Thus giving him enough cause to feel very sad.
In the crevices of the mind there is some reason
For sadness to relate to the aura of the season
The spirit of spring brings happiness, while cold winter is bad.
End
Copyright © Subroto Sinha | Year Posted 2016
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Subroto Sinha Poem
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On the sixth day of the waxing moon
In the sixth month*, there is a boon
Mother Durga comes to her father’s home
On top of the Himalayan dome
She is the epitome of womanhood
The defender of everything good
An embodiment of positive energy
An inner determination and creative synergy
According to legend, Mahishasura the demon
Impressed Shiva and sought a boon
No man or God can have him killed
However strong or exceptionally skilled
He used this power to invade the Gods
And defeated them whatever be the odds
He didn’t consider woman in his boon
And this caused his nemesis very soon
The trinity of Gods bestowed a dazzling beam
To transform Parvati into a goddess dream
Emerged Durga in a form of blinding beauty
The demon was captivated despite being snooty
Each God gave His most powerful weapon
To arm Her with everything she can reckon
In Her little index finger,Narayan gave the Sudarshan Chakra
As it spun it looked like the ring of Cleopatra
It signifies destruction of evil
And protection of dharma against any upheaval
Varuna gave the Conch in Her upper left hand
It stands for the cosmic sound of ‘OM’ in the celestial band
It fills one with peace and tranquility
And transforms all hostility into humility
In Her second left hand Vayu gave the bow and arrow
To destroy difficulties in one’s path, however narrow
Her blessings bring success in all spheres of life
This weapon removes all hindrances and strife
She holds the sword in her second right lower hand
It depicts knowledge she bestows like a magic wand
It removes the veil of ignorance that binds a soul
Due to wrong deeds that draws one away from the goal
The spear she holds, destroys negative and evil forces
Grants auspiciousness to pursue the right courses
She holds the club in her third right lower hand
To destroy the enemy however powerful in the land
Shiva gave the trident seen in her fourth left hand
It symbolizes the three qualities, not difficult to understand
‘Satwa’ is purity, ‘Rajas’, full of passion, ‘Tamas’, crudeness
A balance of the three brings to life ‘resoluteness’
The weapon given by Indra is the Thunderbolt
It symbolizes firmness of spirit in shattering fault
There is also a lotus in her hand, not fully bloomed
It symbolizes certainty of success , but cannot be assumed
Armed with these weapons she fought a fierce battle
Defeated the demon and proved her mettle
On the tenth day of the waxing moon
She restored to the Devas their lost commune.
End
Copyright © Subroto Sinha | Year Posted 2016
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Subroto Sinha Poem
Impressions of a teenager
I was born today twenty years ago
A healthy child with eyes of a doe
I grew up in a free world
Saw the national flag unfurled
Sang national anthem with devotion
A hand on my heart and no motion
It stirred my pride on secular belief
Sacrifices of martyrs elicited grief
I studied in cosmopolitan schools
Learnt honesty and obeying the rules
Ne’er differentiated between rich and poor
Or had any delusion to a life of grandeur
The TV news showed a bitter killing
The video clips were very chilling
A result of animosity between two men
One of whom lost in a gambling den
Days later two groups fought a bitter battle
The bone of contention was lifting of cattle
One group accused the other of eating beef
They said it was against their religious belief
Another day a young couple was burnt alive
The relatives and parents decided to connive
The girl loved, married the boy of lower caste
Retribution by the elders was prompt and fast
It’s awfully risky for girls to travel alone
Even if she has her mobile phone
She can be waylaid by men at a lonely place
Forced to satisfy their lust and face disgrace
“What has independence given us?” I ask
A discordant society oblivious of its task!
The sacrifices of martyrs appear to be in vain
All principles and ethics are down the drain
Greed of wealth and power is the motto
Governance is like a game of lotto
Honesty has ceased to be a virtue
Questioning the corrupt is breaking the curfew
End
Copyright © Subroto Sinha | Year Posted 2016
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Subroto Sinha Poem
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The great tennis legend Roger!
Watching his game is a pleasure
The first service is a bullet
That hits the court like a mallet
The adversary is confused
Just misses getting bruised!
Challenges the absence of line call
Replay shows the trajectory of the ball
Referee’s verdict, ‘ball is in’
He grumbles and calls it a sin
To use the racquet as a gun
Denying the opportunity to run
His returns are the best in the sport
Ball is directed to the corners of the court
His drop shots are precisely done
Ball just crosses the net heavily spun
If the opponent manages to return it still
He’s crouching at the net ready to kill
There are times when it’s not his day
All his game plans go astray
He struggles to turn the game his way
That is when pretty Mirka starts to pray
Seated in her box she closes her eyes
Appeals to God with her silent cries
Lo behold! The game turns around
Everyone in the court is astound
The final score board says it all
Liebling Roger no longer with his back to the wall
He acknowledges cheers for his guile
With a clenched fist and triumphant smile.
End
Copyright © Subroto Sinha | Year Posted 2016
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Subroto Sinha Poem
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On the eve of independence day on August 15, I dedicate this RONDEAU to the topic of 'Real Freedom'
Real freedom lies where eyes see
The world where I’d like to be
The colors of life and wear
Fits of happiness and despair
Hear the hum of the bee.
Feel the music with glee
Sound of waves in the sea
Fragrance of love dwells where
Real freedom lies.
Break the shackles, be free
Unlock emotions is the key
Treat others with care
Find fruits of love to share
In the shelter of this tree
Real freedom lies.
End
Copyright © Subroto Sinha | Year Posted 2016
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Subroto Sinha Poem
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This 21-year old girl, Sindhu
From the land of the Hindu
Set the badminton court on fire
Her opponents in a quagmire
The shuttle flew like a bird
Dropped without being heard
In the other corner of the court
Giving no chance to retort
She wove magic in her game
In her quest for universal fame
As adversaries surrendered by the way
She strode like a colossus each day
Her delicate drop-shots caressed the net
Gives her a sure point you can bet
Her vicious smashes pierce the court
The only defense is to build a fort
A prodigy like her is rarely born
Whom the entire country might adorn
An analysis of her winning ways
Suggest only resolute mind and effort pays
The Olympic medal she has won
Has brought cheers to everyone
All fans are saying in one voice
“CHAK DE INDIA”, she’s our choice
End
Copyright © Subroto Sinha | Year Posted 2016
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Subroto Sinha Poem
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If someone asked me, “A penny for your thought”
I’ll tell him, “Sorry! It can’t be bought”
The thought process runs like a train
Fed by emotions and nurtured by the brain
Said Swami Vivekananda, “Thoughts have made us what we are”
“Words are secondary, thoughts live and travel far”
Friedrich opines thoughts are the shadows of our feelings
Always darker, emptier, and simpler in all dealings
The quality of a leader is determined by his thought
Said Alexander the Great after the battles he fought
“It’s better to have an army of sheep led by a lion raising his battle cry
Than an army of lions led by a sheep that leaves everyone high and dry”
It is believed that the power of thought is the path to discovery
Never underestimate it, or your dreams will be past recovery
The soul of God pours into the world through the thoughts of human
And becomes dyed with its color that embodies his acumen
Bertrand Russell characterizes thought as subversive and revolutionary
Men in power fear it most as their style of functioning is perfunctory
Thought is indifferent to authority and defiant to the wisdom of the ages
It inculcates the sense of logic to the news around at all stages
The quality of the thoughts decide the happiness in life
Reining of evil thoughts will prevent further strife
We’ve created a vicious world in which we are caught
To change the world we have to change our thought.
End
Copyright © Subroto Sinha | Year Posted 2017
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Subroto Sinha Poem
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POISON is anything which exceeds necessity
It can be over- eating leading to obesity
Or it can be power, wealth and hunger
Tempting one to commit a blunder
The vice of ego, greed or ambition
Triggers within self a war of attrition
The passion of love and hate
Can cause the change of fate
FEAR is non-acceptance of uncertainty
After death the soul passes on to eternity
Acceptance changes fear to adventure
Hope guides one to a new venture
ENVY is non-acceptance of good in others
Even between brothers of same mothers
Acceptance of good leads to inspiration
Working up to it excretes perspiration
ANGER is failure of mind to control our temper
It leads to fun parties becoming a damper
Control of temper redeems sense of tolerance
To deal with situations without seeking deliverance
TIME spent on worrying about ‘the way things were’
Reduces the time on good things that we share
It’s a moment stolen from our creative mind
In pursuit of our goals which are left behind!
End
Copyright © Subroto Sinha | Year Posted 2017
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