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This book of poems, 'The Gift of Verses' is meant for matured audience and has a touch of Indianness to it as I, the author, am Indian. However, many foreigners will also find it a value for money and there are things that they may find in this poem that they haven't yet found or known. Wish you, the reader, all the very pleasure in reading my poems.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014
The Goddess
The little candle
Burnt bright
Through the night
And cast Its soothing light,
Filling up The dark room
Making it dim
And lighting the portrait
Of the Goddess.
The family goddess
Takes great care
Of the members
Of the family.
For any trouble
Faced by the family
She is there to dispel
That trouble,
And destroy
The worst fear.
The Goddess resides
In the home
Of every family
And the members
Of that family
Do the regular Nived
And worship her
And remember her.
And she is there To protect,
And she is there To defend,
And she is there To guard,
The family.
She is the ultimate;
She is the kuldevi
She is Kali
And she is Amba
She is Chandi
And she is Chamunda
She is Durga
Who guards every family.
Woman – The Shakti
A man may give up his desires
And live like a recluse
Keeping simple and plain
Minimum things he would use.
A woman however would differ,
Having a lot to offer,
She would try and fulfill
All her desires
And would run around
Performing all the tasks
Keeping things neat and clean.
She would look after her house
Gladly drawing work from her servants
And carrying out all the necessary stunts
And when she goes out to work
She is a lioness on the prowl.
She is capable of multi-tasking
At which a man may seemingly lack,
She is capable of sacrificing
And secretly basking In the glory of her man.
Yet her role would be incomplete
Without her becoming a mother
For, with love and care she is replete
So she needs an outlet
To foster her care on her little one.
It is said very often
That each one has 5 mothers:
The mother of the body
The cow or the gaumata
And the country
Better known as the motherland
The mother earth
And the vedas or the vedamata.
The Mumbai Local (From VT to Kalyan)
The hustle and bustle of crowd With its noise very loud Is evident at the station of VT The normal way of life in the city.
At the next halt at Masjid Bunder, My mind is still filled with wonder At the rush of people here and there Getting in and out of train everywhere.
The train then arrives at Sandhurst Road But it is moving on tracks and not on road Though the station is known so With people all moving to and fro.
The train then chugs along to Byculla, The station names are on no stela But a pillar with white board Painted Red and Black and Blue As people try to get aboard.
The next station, I read, is Chinchpokli, As a passenger turns the pages Of Accomodation Times, a newspaper that is weekly In the train compartments that resemble cages.
The next is Currey Road When the passenger gives a smile broad As his newspaper I try to move From over my nose I try to remove.
The train reaches Parel Inside the local, the life is hell. And then it moves to Dadar The change takes place here At these 2 stations.
Not very far is Matunga As the train reaches; A behra and a gunga Enter, and the behra preaches Asking for alms and donation.
When the train reaches Sion, My shirt I find crumpled, Though I remember using the iron And all my clothes rumpled.
From Sion the train moves to Kurla, The compartment is now jam packed, Difficult to identify a man from a gorilla That is how they breathe and push Without a place to stand, which is a fact.
With people all falling over each other We move slowly to Vidya Vihar; With Ghatkopar not very far The people survive by pushing one another As few will get down here.
Many get down at Ghatkopar At the station it is quite a stir With the next being Vikhroli, A family gets down with heavy bags To be carried without a trolley.
The train moves forward And halts at Kanjur Marg, As we can hear the different raag Of the Bhajan Mandli That has been in the train since VT.
The train marches on to Nahur, A new station in the making, So a surprise for someone on tour Of the city of Mumbai And who has been before to Mumbai.
The train then proceeds to Mulund, Thane not very far from Mulund As people jostle to get in and get out With a scream or a shout.
The local train then chugs to Thane, A man who sells peanuts enters the train With his precious peanuts dane, There are many platforms here in Thane More than in other stations gone by.
Thane is gone and the train goes to Kalwa, A common sight in trains Is of people chewing tobacco And spitting out of windows, their saliva.
Next is the station of Mumbra A group of four are busy with cards, While another sleeps on his seat Meant for six but are seated eight.
As the train moves to Diva It reminds the pious of the diya, The halt of few seconds Is enough for people to get in and out.
Next is Dombivili Followed by Thakurli On a journey That has been long and tiring To reach Kalyan.
At Kalyan, getting up from the seat Is the first real pleasure A chance to stretch out the legs and feet That had been constrained By other legs and feet.
Learnt from our elders Atithi Devo Bhava; Guest is a form of God And followed on those words For quite sometime, Till we came across witches Entering our homes.
Then it struck me Atithi Devo Bhava Has become very old And a new definition of news Has come into existence Never Ever Welcome Someone.
Being honest with people With a large heart welcoming all Is an invitation for the devil; For all evil minded enter the house With a view to suppress, exploit, Cause mismatches and misunderstandings.
In this world, today, the guest Should be regarded no more than a pest And a guest who is honest Is a rarity that you find. A majority of them you’ll find Are jealous and are out there In your house, to do some damage.