This is my main form of literary expression, and something into which I still research about. I start off with two of my most intense poems, straight from the heart!


Sojourner

This poem was a farewell piece to my best friend when he left shores to pursue another career. It was quite hard for me to swallow it, and one late mid-night I penned this down.


Dawn

This poem was written as tribute to the courage of a lady in greatest of adversities. She lost her entire family in a highway accident, and also some of her corporal faculties such as sense of smell. But she rose like a Phoenix, with a will to carry on, an example worth emulating.


Talking via Eyes

This poem was written as a gift on first birthday to the son, Sammyo Roychowdhury, of my close friend. Since I had no experience with kids then, I stood in a marketplace in Bangalore, and observed few things from various mothers-and-kids as they passed by.


Gopu

Sometime in 2010, Suvrat and I were rocking in a porch swing at someone's home, when some lullaby-type lines came out naturally. So I sat back that night and completed another lullaby, this time in Hindi.


Kya Khoya, Kya Paaya

This poem was written as a marriage gift to wife of my ex-housemate. Timing of gifting it was obviously just after marriage got over!


Maihar Ki Or

This poem was written as a sequel to previous one, i.e. when the wifey of my friend went back home first time. However, it is one of my shoddier creations.


Prabhat Ki Or

This poem was written based on some observation of nature during camping near Nainitaal. Disclaimer: I am no Sumitranandan Pant or William Wordsworth.


Pyaar

This poem is one of my early poems. Since it is thought-oriented, it would have better been written as prose instead!


Murjhaya Phool

This poem is the antithesis of previous poem, i.e. about the negative feelings during love, or pangs of separation. Unlike previous one, these thoughts come from heart, not mind, and hence people liked it more.


Kastoori

This poem was written another first-birthday gift to daughter of one of my friends.


Birthday Wishes 1

This poem was a birthday gift to a grown-up girl, not a kid!


Birthday Wishes 2

This poem, another birthday gift, I don't even remember to whom I gave this, or whether I gave or not.


Home

This poem was written in aftermath of somebody's house-warming ceremony. I was fantasizing about what could make a house make me feel like my home. A house of mine is under construction now; hope it will become a home also.


Mangal Ho

This poem was written to nudge a friend of mine, who had become lazy as years progressed, and had started suffering. Sounds like what great Hindi poet of seventeenth century, Bihari-lal, did to Sawai Raja Jaisingh? No. Within an hour of writing this poem in evening, bomb blasts happened in Delhi, and my friend escaped by proverbial breadth of a hair. With this "amangal" situation coming forth, Thank God I never gave him this quixotic piece of advice.


Bless me, Mother!

This poem has a built-in prelude, so just read on. This translation was picked up from old Tamil classic movie, Sindhu-Bhairavi.



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