A Poem by Poems by Manikuntala Bhattacharjya

(Assamese Poem)

Words of a Mother (Aair Kotha)

Mother’s words are final words
Mother’s words are set in stone
The sky sleeps when mother asks
The earth rises at her words.

Surrounding a fireplace we are sitting
We don’t have hands
To warm our stiff cold fingers

Mother is sitting with her bare body
For what she stopped us
For what she was frightened
Today, we took it as breathing
We kept moving whatever the way we found
And now we are coming back
Losing all our traits of a human
We are sitting in front of the fireplace burning from ages
Mother can’t turn her head up
Can’t tell us to leave
She doesn’t stop us now, from anything
All her fears meant for us have vanished.

She is sitting with her bare body
The sky is sleeping
She asked it to sleep.

Now, we are frightened,
Mother’s words are final words
Her words are set in stone
The sky slept abiding her words
What if she asks the earth to sleep?

translated by Puja Rajkumari

(More poems by Manikuntala Bhattacharjya)

A Poem by Purvai Aranya

Almost Rain

t might rain.
In the telltale shimmer of
dying flowers, the
petals on this polished floor
scratching against the wooden door.
Clanging bottles. City sounds.
In the bottom of my glass
(when almost nothing is left)
all I see is your resentment
(those eyes, oh, the knives)
Perhaps that's my fear, oh dear.

Monosyllabic and cynical
the line of conversation
hangs on a string so loose
that my words never seem
to reach your ears.
Or yours mine.

Thunder against the windows
fluttering leaves (and lives).
I'm afraid to say
what I really want to
(there will be no entanglement
this illusion will shatter
once taut, our strings will
break with a touch and that is why)
I am afraid.

The wind rushes at the walls
with the anger of a thousand horsemen
and I clench my fist
under the table
and I tighten the knot
of my legs till I can almost
feel nothing anymore
But I smile at you gently,
comfortingly. Because that
is what you deserve. My love.

(More poems by purvai aranya)


A Poem by Kiriti Sengupta


Scratches only are Human

Few beautiful scratches there, deep within

Soft marks, palpable even after years

No wounds, tiny scratches brown

Soothing, mesmerizing in between !

Lips uncut ... coloured, covered are those

Fine lines - sheer wonder

Scratches see, smile and talk

Alike palpating vessels, carrying

Air straight to my balloons !

They smell divine, growth enhancing

Climb the crown with shattered reflections

Moving fingers around, capture

Oozing spines ...

(More poems of Kiriti Sengupta)

A Poem by Obaidullah Baheer

It is called "The Arrow"

"I shot an arrow into the air.
It fell to earth,
I knew not where;
For so swiftly it flew that marvelous flight,
A moment's glory and out of sight

I breathed a song into the air.
It fell to earth,
I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of a song.

Long, long afterward,
Stuck in an oak
I found the arrow
Still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end
I found again in the heart of a friend."


A Poem by Jyothsnaphanija

Interrupted songs

In the stagnant weighting,
In the frustrated loss,
With the weary tone,
The traveler felt composed in the songs at the dirt.
They are not the songs of mirth,
Not the lyrics of standard,
Not the tunes of cannon,
Not the mellow dramatic context,
But the context of hunger.
They are the shrilling songs of loss,
Echoing songs of pain,
Demanding songs of despair,
Noisy songs in the puzzling travel.

Songs for the flowers,
Songs for the fruits,
Songs for the vegetables,
Coffee songs and gaming songs.
The unheard tales and untold experiences
Are faded in the graceful smiles and sweeping words.

(More poem Jyothsnaphanija)



Between the night and day
I will go
for an icarian fall.

A commitment to resistance
was over. I am
melting under the moon.

Hold my hand. A
dramatic front was ready
to destroy me.

Celebrating the death
was an intense mistake. It
was becoming a practice run

for the hangman
to sharpen his skill. There
was a long row of sinners.

( More Poems by SATISH VERMA)

A poem by Shalini Samuel

You are not alone

The glass window opens every morning

She gazes across suns golden rays;

Trying to solve the mystical mystery,

She joins her hands for a humble prayer

Her trembling pink fingers handle the bow

Gracefully and excellently, the violin smiles

Splendid music fills the room, evading loneliness

Bored of this humdrum, the little sparrow hushed

Jumping on her tender lap, he chirped cheerfully

Distracting her loneliness, “I am here for you”

(More poems by Shalini Samuel)

A Poem by Harihar Jha

My Death

The Death has drawn a line on me
Mind in blunder, my heart in wonder
I see the death coming near me

Spreading black veil, making me blind
Shaking my bones, and veins are blown
A wave in melody piercing my mind

Song from the birds rolling on a death cup
What clouds reveal, wet fragrance I feel
From earth to cosmos, umbrella opens up

With love I am ready to be breakfast next
Death licking me while I taste my death
My soul is fulfilled but ego perplexed

The world is dissolved, I'm going to die
Nothingness looming and silence blooming
Peace everywhere I'm flying in the sky.

Order from heavens passing my ears
Take me my dear with joy and cheers
People around me why shedding tears?

( More Poems by Harihar Jha)

A Poem by Ravi Teja Mandapaka   

Dear Mother, My Creation.

An omnipresent human,
A once girl child,
An igniting soul of mine,
Elegance in womanhood,
A divine creation.

Curtains dance to full swing,

Doors hug tight, often splashing,
But in one dark corner of a forgotten room
I am stationed, my mother

A relationship of me, myself, my soul,
A pale, rather unpleasant tale,
Of a bruised and humiliated man
With a ragged beard, smothering.

How do I gather my poise,
With only a pen to tale of
That devilish moment my soul forsook me
As my eyes moistened, my heart bled,
when thy carcass on the couch,
Put forth for one final time.

All the hope in me was gone.

That day I entered as a stray sperm,
In your pelvic cavity,
Swam in flesh and blood of thine,
A picturesque nothingness,
Evoked your painstaking gestation

Those serene days of togetherness,
My infatuation, caught in your charisma;
I had not a full taste, nor did I caress
Your aching heart. After that as you know, mother
When cancer, a nemesis you confronted,
I, a student, turned into a dossier
Of reports and prescriptions in medicine.
The once tranquil times are now
Ignominious and loathsome.

Dear my mother,
As your physical state left us, I cried

for you; if I hurt when you left me
I moaned at your absence.
My grief, touched heavens.
Life once prosperous, writhed to adversity

Hearts are nails, flowers thorns.
Butterflies run fast and free through my stomach
At the mention of your name.

As I am to the damn games you play!
I touched aesthetic beauty; I touched art
But once, and as I grow old love embraces
Me instead of I it, and I reminisce of a time
That yielded odors of an ageless wine.

How I wanted to grow old with you,
Embracing your love in the reflections
On your face, seeing us (your kids),
Attain glory.

Dear Mother,
Embrace me even as you find solace in heavens,
our love surpasses time.

May your soul in sanity,
Rest in peace.

Your, second son.

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