Participating Poet in Anthology on Refugees

http://differenttruths.com/cover-story/an-anthology-of-world-refugee-day-poems/

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The Quiet Type by Summer Prescott

A book that persuades the reader to read it in one go till the very end…..every character well etched..the central character and her macabre pursuit of a specific form of art sends chills down the readers soul…one is forced to think about one’s neighbours and whether the calm on the surface is the prelude of some storm brewing …the book is also a reminder to parents to nurture their children by providing them with the right sort of environment and paying attention to their emotional needs.. After all, we humans are a product of nature and nurture isn”t it??

Lost Humanity

 

#NAPOWRIMO

Day 23-24

Prompts: Glass Door & Ad Infinitum

 

Rows of soldiers stand on two sides of the glass door

Each daring the other to break the door

They have stood as guards since ages

Both sides confined within their vested cages

Every day they stare remorselessly at each other

In not so recent past they called each other brothers

Both sides’ ironically offspring of the same Earth mother

Rulers of both sides every year renew the dictum

Let enmity thrive on each side till ad infinitum-

Divide and rule policy ensured prosperity of respective kingdoms

Hatred bred hatred leading to thriving serfdoms

When, where, how the hostility will end?

Which side would be the first one to bend?

Will they remain foes or blossom as friends?

On both sides will it be Heaven or Hell-

Till date they greet each other with only mortar shells

Glass doors make ideal neighbours

Glass doors resist free borders

Mankind need to stop being humanity’s marauders

By stepping forward and shattering the glass door

Enveloping each other in their bosoms once more

Time will tell –

If glass door annihilates this misguided humanity

Or resurrects- long forgotten fraternity.

 

© Paromita Mukherjee Ojha, 23rd -24th April, 2016

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Putul’s World

#NAPOWRIMO

Day 21 & 22

Prompt: Paper Dolls

Epitome of Friendship

 

Little Putul sits in her corner of the pavement

Lovingly uttering words of endearment

The expressionless eyes of her paper dolly

Seemed to overlook her poverty being a folly

The master of the street urchins

A hideous creature reached her in rage shaking

You pathetic girl, good for nothing

Wiling your time instead of begging

Do I dole out food to you mongrels-For idling’?

He shook Putul violently, pulling her by the hair

He looked for the seams of her soul

Where he could her childhood impair

Putul chose to remain calm and impassive

She chose to be her own person in this world placid

She knew, she was different

For the world urchins like her were abhorrent

To the neat societal order they were deterrents

Who could not be supported within urban mechanic arbor

Left to their own wretched fate

They cowered at the beggar masters gate

 

Putul pitied the urban world and her master baldy

The plastic world of humans to her was a folly

She did not want to be mechanized like them

Chasing money like them to her was a senseless game

 

Her paper dolly, was her precious gem

A true epitome of friendship

Who never judged her nor made her slave to dictatorship

Her life was hard, unsafe and insecure

Devils tried to stain her mind and body pure

But life on the streets had armed her with arsenals sure

She did not cower, nor hid in her corner of the world

With dolly by her side her fate she twirled

Within her defiance ebbed and swirled

She knew fate could not be standstill

She chose to live life as per her will

 

Today fate wasn’t by her side

But tomorrow who knows

There could be turn of the tide

Till then she would courageously her time bide

With her paper dolly by her side

She would all hurdles override.

 

©Paromita Mukherjee Ojha, 21st -22nd April 2016

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Belief

#NAPOWRIMO

Day 19 & 20

Prompt: Rara Avis & Tag

Maya was fortunate to have a visitor divine

A rara avis with yellow, blue plumes and eyes benign

A bird that Maya was only fortunate to see

Maybe God wanted it that way to be

Maya had lost her will to live

Battling with cancerous cysts had shaken her belief

 

Staring at the azure blue sky was her soul’s reprieve

A slice of the bustling world visible from her bedroom window

Was her only escape from her life now held in a limbo

Her static world suddenly came alive with the arrival of the bird

Every day at a particular hour the bird perched on her window sill

The bird’s chirping made Maya realize she had a life ahead of her still

Maya started believing that the bird was sent by Divine force

To guide her on her predestined course

Maya’s heart was set on fire

She dragged herself out of her self-created quagmire

She trudged jauntily every day for her chemotherapy

She fought with death  coercing him to extend  her life’s warranty

A conflagration of her will power consumed death’s resistance

Leaving Maya again with a disease free existence

The rara avis that had tagged along her journey towards faith

Now vanished like a wraith

Day and night Maya waited for her seraph to again sing

Alas!there were no more visists from the celestial being

Maya realized her guide would now no more be seen

Maya imbibed the bird’s message in her soul

One must believe in oneself to reach any goal.

© Paromita Mukherjee Ojha, 19th– 20th April 2016