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Aju Mukhopadhyay Poem
Il Pleut
It rains torrentially
after long drought and disorder;
it rains drenching the empathetic
scraggy soil of the heart
it rains moistening the rocks of anger
crags of revenge and cracks of depravity
it rains covering the jealous holes with purity
healing the undesirable crevices of the being
it pours incessantly to cover and clean
the gaps of deceptive caves of life
it rains inside me constantly
stretching the cramped limbs
softening the being;
it skits with a susurrus
leading me to the lee
when all on a sudden
something goes wrong
influenced by someone’s lewd smile
or a serein’s half-hearted dampening.
Rain of grace falls and falls
to soothe my ruffled feelings;
it corrects, it helps, it leads me
always to the right way.
When it rains in the forest of my being
where the tallest trees touch the sky
and the moon shines bright on the leaves
through the gnarled branches
lighting the dark parts of existence,
life becomes wholesome
peaceful and serene.
Removing the dryness and darkness of life
rain of grace falls and falls
perpetually to revive.
Copyright © Aju Mukhopadhyay | Year Posted 2017
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Aju Mukhopadhyay Poem
At the River Bank
And quiet flows the river
without a ripple or shiver
trees stand windless
not even a whiff in space
no leaf shakes, no sound;
fishes are sleeping
sweating fishermen around
have lost all zeal
in the act of rowing
their boats stand still;
the water shines like a mirror
naked boy in it looks at his figure.
The world without a name
halts at the bank of the river
no one knows when it came
none knows if it was there.
Copyright © Aju Mukhopadhyay | Year Posted 2017
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Aju Mukhopadhyay Poem
Flash of light enormous, pass through the sky
Pilgrims to different sites in accord with season’s cry
Exactly on the same flyway for ages they fly;
Bar-headed Geese in flight dwell in sky infinite
They live in central Asian coldest lakes in summer
Breed in Mongolia, China and Ladakh, separated from Kashmir,
Live in Pakistan and Indian plains in winter.
In flight, they generate huge heat
Powerful flapping of their wings
Over the oceans, forests, lands and cities
Days after days, nights after nights
Create sufficient oxygen
Energize their muscles, lungs, heart and capillaries.
Birds without boundaries, citizens of the earth, water and sky
Choose different sites as suits them for different activities
Without dividing the globe by countries, nations and races;
Without passport or visa they move, live on natural resources;
Born in Nature it is their only refuge
They die in it without knowing any subterfuge.
Spreading their wings at times they fly without a single flap
Glide through the sky, a flash of joy,
Lapping the sky gracefully.
Longing to be birds in the heart of our hearts
Free from all manmade burdens of life We can neither shake off the burden nor in us carry the bird’s spirit
We faintly imitate them without reaching their site.
Birds live in Nature ever active happy and prolific
Which is hardly possible for us
With our vain human pride;
Children of Nature we are part of it
Instead of collaborating with it
We try to dominate and boss over it.
© Aju Mukhopadhyay, 2019
Copyright © Aju Mukhopadhyay | Year Posted 2020
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Aju Mukhopadhyay Poem
Environmentally Yours
GLOBAL WARMING, CLIMATE CHANGE, NUCLEAR HOLOCAUSTE-
very big words; beyond us.
ILLEGAL MINING, RIVER POLLUTION, FOREST DEVASTATION-
not our concern; ordinary mortals.
As decent individuals we barely use one car,
one fridge, one air-conditioner or even none.
Leading a carefree life we Indians throw
empty water bottles anywhere, choke waterways
by throwing all waste materials,
even electronic, sanitary waste trail here and there;
spitting anywhere, urinating on roadsides
we find pleasure in heaping more over heaped garbage
remaining alert that no such nuisance is done before our doors
while throwing petty things through our windows.
But all our petty actions, as unified team,
boomerang on us as the ultimate victim.
Environment is what surrounds us
but are we not surrounding our environment?
Copyright © Aju Mukhopadhyay | Year Posted 2017
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Aju Mukhopadhyay Poem
All are wide-awake
In the first phase of the night
Hedonists are awake in the second
Then the thieves appear at the site
Yogis get up fresh
In the fourth phase of it;
It is the hour when diamond pendants are set
From the overhead canopy
When gossamer clouds rest
In the space azury
Everything remains inert and sleepy
Silence engulfs the earth from end to end
Many happy dreams are conceived
Many new hopes tend
Hours are pregnant
With ideas attendant
May or may not come true;
The grayish-orange dawn waiting to bloom
Has something in its womb
Neither can we comprehend nor can we groom.
Copyright © Aju Mukhopadhyay | Year Posted 2019
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Aju Mukhopadhyay Poem
From the beginning of man’s life
Like other creatures he survives
Breathing air and drinking water
Freely available aplenty in Nature
It was the business world helped by the rulers
Which stopped free supply, bottled the water
Selling it against payment
Refusing man Nature’s gift rudiment.
From the beginning of market and commerce
Man buys things and carries them in their bags
Suddenly appeared like locust the plastic carry bags
Boxes, bottles and packs flooding the earth
Thrown into gutters after use sans worth.
Things made of plastic thrown after use
Float in the air, move through the sky making all ruse
Chocking the drains, canals, rivers
Killing millions of fishes, other denizens of waters
Killing unfed cattle, dogs, pigs and birds.
All plastic packs, bottles and such things must be banned
To save living beings from situations damned.
Copyright © Aju Mukhopadhyay | Year Posted 2018
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Aju Mukhopadhyay Poem
Daydreaming
With will unwavering
Riding a robust horse
Pakshiraj or Pegasus
The winning force
Empowers one to reach the distant shore
Sky height unforeseen before
But lagging in tenacity it’s often abandoned
Fading dream-flower crumbles or
Die in the bud.
Dreams of the night
Are often haphazard, delinked
Flashes from the recently viewed scenes
Or distorted pieces from life’s stories
Surface from the subconscious depth
Meaningless, devoid of wealth
Give us miseries remaining incomplete
Desires end in surfeit.
Dreams flowering here and there
Dry without getting care
Dreams are after all dreams
Rarely giving us wholesome hints
Of anything present, past or future;
Events in it are haphazard admixture
Of heterogeneous stories one forgets
A realist often neglects.
If you consider that nothing finally fails
You can try to catch a dream by its tail
And rise up through memory’s trailing path
To its head to find if it’s worth.
Born with dream from our birth
We strongly hope to find its worth
In every New Year
Beyond its wear and tear
New Year beacons us towards the future.
Copyright © Aju Mukhopadhyay | Year Posted 2018
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Aju Mukhopadhyay Poem
None came to such a remote place
Near Pannawonica in Australia, without access
No bird has known it, not even a skink
Troglobites live in the dark caves, never shrink
Humans came with iron mining project
But noticed the exceptional nature of the tiny insect;
Darkness keeps them smart
Bright light kills the insects
They live in the caves dark
Spider like tiny blind invertebrates
The aboriginal heritage of the earth
Deserve human interest for their special worth;
Man has abandoned mining there
Leaving the rocky caves to the insects’ care
To protect the lovers of the dark
From the assault of the light stark
Strange world accommodates all the opposites
Pannawonica like sanctuary is one of such sites.
© Aju Mukhopadhyay, 2020
Copyright © Aju Mukhopadhyay | Year Posted 2020
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Aju Mukhopadhyay Poem
Sky the Truth
Sky is infinite from eternity
earth looks at it from its birth;
sky of innumerable shapes and colours
ever changing
creating and recreating
beyond any dolour and mirth.
The flight of distance loving birds through it
passing of supersonic jets, other flying objects
lightning flash like sparks of clash on earth
sounds of explosion and song
all are facets of truth
like the many faces of the sky.
Sky has no hue no smell no face
it creates and recreates the surface;
infinite from eternity
Sky is the Truth.
Copyright © Aju Mukhopadhyay | Year Posted 2017
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Aju Mukhopadhyay Poem
Economic Disparity created during the Corona Phase
Death equalizes all at the end
But sufferings are hugely different.
There cannot be any comparison
Between the daily wage earners like
Vegetable vendors, itinerant traders
And the white collar employees;
While millions have lost their jobs and vocation
Some are fed and nourished at home
Jobs at the organized sector stands secured
Their presence or absence in the office is the same.
Slack in performing duties they seek
Excuses on situational abnormalities
They look the other way
When millions lose their lives and livelihood
Get poverty stricken without help in time.
Corona situations make the poor poorer.
Rendering them further poor by doling them pittance
Leaders secure better positions in the next election process
Corona becomes the Crown on their heads.
Crowned they appear the greatest saviors
Police becomes the most active coordinators.
Digitally run are the big business houses, corona blessed
Common traders, artisans lose their bread in corona market.
Most are suffering economically including the Governments
Some are going up fabulously, going to reach or reached
The richest global spot monetarily;
573 billionaires added during the two years
Fishing in troubled age of coronavirus
As it will push 263 million more into poverty in this year.
Biggest five energy companies favored by authorities
Became the largest profiteer earning $2600 per second
Their sharing must be the biggest as selected.
Copyright © Aju Mukhopadhyay | Year Posted 2022
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