Santosh Bakaya is the winner of Reuel
International Award [2014] for Oh Hark!, Setu Award for excellence [2018] for
her ‘stellar contribution to world literature’,[Setu, bilingual Journal
Pittsburgh, USA], the First Keshav Malik Award [2019] for her ‘entire
staggeringly prolific and quality conscious oeuvre’. An essayist, poet,
novelist, editor, TED x Speaker, Dr. Santosh Bakaya has been acclaimed for her
poetic biography of Bapu, Ballad of Bapu [Vitasta, Delhi,
2015]. Her latest books include Only
in Darkness can you see the Stars [A Biography of Martin Luther King
Jr. Vitasta, 2019], Songs of Belligerence [2020], Vodka by the
Volga [poetic collaboration with Dr. Koshy, 2020]
The Homeless Human Chunk
I watch from a distance
as a tiny, unkempt, homeless human chunk,
lovingly sculpts a home from a
discarded carton,
for a hungry, shelter- less
kitten.
He rummages in his frayed pocket
for some loose change,
buys it a cup of milk and
dilutes it with water.
His round eyes sparkle with
vicarious satiation.
His own hunger miraculously disappears
as the little kitten slurps up the diluted
milk.
The kitten survives.
So does humanity- alas, only for
the time being.
The chunk now happily whispers
sweet- nothings
to his growling and indignant stomach.
The stomach growls a little
more,
and then falls silent.
Silent, like all of us-
Silent about the injustice all
around.
Silent about the unfairness.
Silent about societal inequities
Silence reigns – deathlike.
Not a word is uttered
Not a malediction muttered
against the vain high-ups
who gloat,
floating happily in this triumph
for survival.
Diamonds
With an effervescent spring in
my gait,
I stirred out of the gate,
following countless days
of incarceration. After all, it was a new
year.
My eyes fell on a bloated raindrop hanging
from a leaf.
I shuddered.
Why did the dewdrop remind me of
a bereft person’s tear,
who has lost a dear one to the
dreaded virus?
I peered closer, and was dazzled
by a riot of colours,
all spelling hope.
I stopped mid- stride on my
tightrope walk.
Does hope reside in a drop of dew?
Ah, strange but true.
There it was- a rainbow with
hope imbued.
Nestling in the drop of dew.
I smiled, and I knew my smile
was precious –
it radiated diamonds.
The meaning of nothingness
I often remember those lofty
snow- covered pinnacles
of my homeland,
glowing
in the early morning rays, and
the river
flowing
with incredible grace,
but too mild to thaw the
cold-hearted peaks.
But the fire in my heart,
all- knowing
ignites my entire body, making me burn.
Tongues of fire leap up trying
to singe me
as heartless barbarism and treachery are
relentlessly unleashed.
I sit slumped, gauging the meaning of
nothingness,
till reconciled, I liberate
myself into a future unknown.
But the optimist in me surfaces,
changes gears, veers me
towards a log cottage in the
woods
where a creek flows tranquilly
and a father son- duo sits
silently, fishing.
There is nothing great about a
fish
refusing to fall for the bait.
The child frowns a tired frown,
but then glimpses a
balloon-seller,
and he goes berserk, behaving
like a loon
in the joyous pursuit of a
colourful balloon,
Night falls and he starts crying for the moon.
Ah, for that precious boon to
wake up
to a pristine dawn, one of a kind,
all perked up, wrapped in the warm
innocence
of freshly fallen snow
in that once peaceful homeland I left behind.
Honoured and humbled to find my poems rubbing shoulders with some wonderful poets .
ReplyDeleteLovely poems radiating hope and positivity!
ReplyDelete