Kushal Poddar (Women and Spring)

Kushal Poddar

Memories Set a Table Spread

He vanishes 

leaving doubts and imaginations

on the chair, and yet 

memories set a table spread. 

She texts to a number 

reassorted to someone else.

He grows weary of saying

"I am not him."

and become the addressee's myth.

Spring brings 

a touch of verdancy 

on the gnarly brown before 

the weather rattles the dice once more.

***

Sakura - 2

The cherries bloom, sakura,

in the white of your eyes.

Their boughs swell up in red,

and a flurry of the wind in your head

asks, "How many springs 

did you evade sleep?"

The murders in this town

are foreknown; they catch the killers

before the crime, and set them free

to fulfill the prophecy.

Another Spring becomes a victim.

The hails plunge in, and you hear

the sufferer say, "Promise me a solution."

You shake your head.

Every promise we fake births another end. 

***

Cohen As Conceived During The Early Spring 

Sun dives, rises, repeats; this,

not the dark hues trees 

herd together, makes me afraid. 

They say you cannot unsee

sun emerging, naked, water beads,

prismic, following the contours.

A cloud shrouds the sight.

Water looks high, unstable and living

the stars' overture. The dance shapes 

my lips; they frame Cohen,

"The smokey life is practiced everywhere"

The crickets and fireflies applaud

in a mind drinking itself. The wind if eyes

could perceive without light 

and other distortions would look 

pollen coloured and exploding.

---

Setu, March 2024

Laksmisree Banerjee (Women and Spring)

Laksmisree Banerjee

THE ETERNAL

(“Beauty is Truth, truth beauty / That is all ye know on earth and all ye need to know”.. John Keats) 

I see my pictures often frozen in time

Perhaps I see art of the highest kind

Sometimes in reverie, sometimes in revelry

Ancient land with new grass

No crinkles, no wrinkles, just straight

Everlasting twinkles of the human mind

Fertile furrows, secure burrows 

Vitalized with pure soil and water

As I traverse on terrain endless

My heart of love and face

Struck in deep somnolence

As whirling times unwind

In the penumbra of the sun

In the silence of the void

In the milky gurgles of the child

A white blossom of fire unfolds

Breathes still in a moving circle

As I remain etched in stasis

Rocks and ages roll on 

Glaciers clot and thaw unyielding

Stars blaze and planets rotate

But I remain a changeless marvel

An eternal figurine of beauty and truth

In the cosmic mime ---

***

BEYOND THE APPARENT

When Spring unbars my doors and windows

when sunshine-gold flatters my face

with the ever new flush of iridescent purity

when the koel’s sonata cascades through me

in echoes of that effervescence of your love

the bursting blooms bathe me in beauty

of child-like liquescence in joyous gurgles

with their rainbow-blush of everlastingness

when cold nights have disappeared

into black holes of insignificance

when the raging firewood has left behind

the warmth of newness in its death

I hear your Cosmic Song in twittering swallows

ragas resonate in happy dancing of corn blades

Your Rhapsody of Life our only bewildering reality

And Death an aberration, a non-existence

A Temporal Winter of no consequence ---

Yes your amorous Springtime ushers in

an azure of hope with expansive virgin clouds

floating in ballads and ballets of limitlessness

full of expectation of water-bearing maternity

to drench lands and loams of arid melancholy

a far cry of wintry deserts from this season of joy

flossy cotton balls lingering in our sky of faith

making Springtime a playful duality of the sun

in tangerine delight with cleanse of rainy showers

proclaiming the balance of being in temperance

the parks and gardens full of the life force of equivalence

with your cosmic cycles of rejuvenation in hibernation

bliss and beatitude surmounting impermanent gloom

Your Spring remains our water-fount in crevices

Playing forever hide and seek at our doorstep

Yet presiding over mire and mist

Truthful Season secreted in the human heart and soul

Ready to lend the hand of lasting Divine Grace

A chirping bird of Timelessness beyond the apparent face ---

***

ARRIVAL

my dreams float in windy seas

my bare branches in rugged dance

my skeletal twigs born in the stress of freeze

jubilant now with whispers in the breeze

of your long awaited arrival ---

my green arteries now seeped in brown

my leaves turning limp, sallow, rusty yellow

my branches dry with no flow of fresh blood

awaiting the crescendo to seize the flood

of the moment of your arrival ---

sudden the cosmic harmony reverberates

birds, buds and bees agog with echoes

of the silence of oncoming rhapsodies

brilliance of a new season of symphonies

oh I hear the moment of your arrival ---

mother and child in the cantata of raptures

birthing leaves and babies in fluent green

kaleidoscopes in giggling gardens captured

rainbows in muted sunshine of overtures

blossoms await the moment of your arrival ---

the icicles thaw with another resurrection

songs of nature rend the air and abode

the artist has splashed his colours again

I await once more your moment of arrival

for Spring has returned with hope of survival ---

***

ROSES ARISE (On a Painting by Edouard Manet)

You see through my translucence

My soul of watery innards

A green yearning for a palette

Of our special communion 

Rippling cascades of placidity

So often erased or neglected

In a niche of unnoticed beauty

That flies in the ether of love 

I come to you through eons fragile

In the air of my flagrant colours

Splashing like the currents on spring-shores

Perhaps its tranquillity on the horizon

I become an angel with winging roots

My hibernating self in liquidity

Splurging with elemental bliss of ditties

Flowers embracing foliage in our elysium

Rainbow hues in the sky of roses

Painted azure of the blooming garden

Refractions rising in my longing for you

In my art of white transcendence

***

Bio: Prof. Dr. Laksmisree Banerjee is a Multiple Award-Winning Poet /Author, Literary Critic, Educationist, Sr. Academic and Practicing Radio & TV Vocalist with several National and International Publications, Assignments & Awards to her credit. She is an Internationally recognized Poet, Senior Fulbright Scholar, Commonwealth Scholar, Asian Society Scholar and National Scholar from the Calcutta University, a UGC Post-Doctoral Research Awardee and Former Vice Chancellor & Pro Vice Chancellor of Kolhan University, Eastern India. As a University Professor of English & Cultural Studies, Dr. Banerjee has lectured and recited in premier Universities of the world.  She has Eleven Books of Indian-English Poetry (with Two more forthcoming) and more than a Hundred Academic Publications including Books & Research Papers in diverse areas of Literature and Culture. She is widely published and anthologized in innumerable Journals and Anthologies across the globe, for eg. in Wasafiri UK, Chicago Review, South Asian Review USA, Atunis Galactic Poetry (Brussels), Setu (Pittsburgh), SECL (Studies-Series in English & Comparative Literature published in Austria, Canada & Germany), Commonwealth Review UK & India, Journal of IACLALS(Commonwealth Literatures & Languages Studies) and many more.

Dr.Banerjee (her Home University being University of Calcutta) has taught in Global Universities of Florida, Maryland (College Park Campus), Georgia, Stockholm, Lund, Vaxjo, Sodertorn, Copenhagen, Aarhus, London, Luton, Stellenbosh, Capetown, Witwatersrand, Sorbonne, Cyprus, Singapore Management University, Beijing, Kunming etc .  

As a Sr. Grade Radio & TV Artiste (a Gold Medallist & First Class M. Muse from Prayag Sangeet Samiti Of Allahabad University) she has performed over Radio, TV and Stage Recitals of Hindustani Classical, Semi-Classical and varied genres of Indian Ethno Music across India and the globe. 

Among her several Awards, a few need special mention---- viz. she is the Recipient of Two International Awards for Lifetime Achievement in Poetry & Literature ((i)Reuel International Lifetime Achievement & (ii) Literoma Laureate Lifetime Achievement) International Panorama Award for Poetry, Kala Ratnam Award, Asian Literary Society Women Achievers’ Award, Connoisseur of Literary Arts of Asia & Tunisia Award, Literoma Laureate Kriti Samman Award, Sahitya Akademi’s Avishkar Honour as “a Scholar-Artiste & Poet Musician”, the prestigious UGC Postdoctoral Research Award for her path-breaking Work on Comparative Studies of World Women Poets  and many other Awards over the years  An active Rotarian (Multiple Paul Harris Fellow), a Sr. Board Member of the University of Innsbruck, Austria and a Nominee of the Indian Rashtrapati on several Central University Boards, Dr. Banerjee is passionate about using the potency of her Pen and Voice for Social Transformations, International Peace & Good Will.

---

Setu, March 2024

Satbir Chadha (Women and Spring)

Satbir Chadha

SPRING AND THE SOLDIER

Today I heard the first koel, as I stepped out in the morning

It sounded like the plaintive cry of a parting soldier’s bride

The wistful notes reverberated through the air suddenly crisp

And the sky so clear and blue

Gone was the frost and the fragrant spill

Overflow of beaming colourful flowers

Masters of the bounteous spring

Had spring then left my town

On soft padded feet, as softly as it had come

The first nascent flowers I’d mistaken for snowflakes

For the winter chill had still been upon us

Then suddenly the land was all awash

Redolent and green was the ground

Every pore burst forth with brilliant sprouts

The hedges and trellises and the red painted pots

Radiant flowers filled them all

A thousand rainbows had descended on the earth

The heart clings to the butterfly’s wings

Hovers inebriated over the iridescent blossoms

Drinks the sweet nectar and duly swoons

As youth needs to be, to be drunk on the spring

But today I heard the koel sing

That spring is so many other things

The shepherd’s flute and the soldier’s salute

For now as the snow melts, both move up the mountains

One guards the sheep and brings them home

The soldier guards the nation

Maybe for them, the winter was spring

To each his own designation

---

Setu, March 2024

Padmaja Iyengar-Paddy (Women and Spring)

Padmaja Iyengar-Paddy

Spring

                               

When she was young, she had stars in her eyes,

Sky seemed the limit to touch peaks and highs.

All the right words were in place in her lexicon,

Every starry night welcomed a brand-new dawn!

A brand-new dawn came with so many possibilities,

That she felt she could handle with comfort and ease.

Nothing seemed impossible for her to gain and attain,

Self-confidence was something she couldn’t restrain.

All that was in her youth when her life was at its prime,

When to pause and think, she had absolutely no time!

Summer, winter, spring, for her were mere seasons,

To keep moving ahead, she had many-many reasons!

Yet, there came a time in her life when she saw a setback,

In the form of a loved one, who dumped her like a sack!

From here, began her journey downhill that was so steep,

She realized, she had fallen into an abyss dark and deep!

Spring the Season of Change, Colours and 

Fragrance seems just around the corner …

But what she craves for most, is to regain

The spring in her steps when she was young!

*******

Bio: Padmaja Iyengar-Paddy’s poetry collection, “P-EN-CHANTS” has been recognized by the India Book of Records for never-before-attempted movie reviews and management topics in rhyming poetry.  Her poems, articles and short stories have been published in reputed print magazines, e-zines and anthologies.  A recipient of several awards, Paddy has compiled and edited six international multilingual poetry anthologies and 3 English poetry anthologies, of which “Amaravati Poetic Prism” 2016 to 2019 have been recognized by the Limca Book of Records as “Poetry Anthology in Most Languages”.  “P-EN-CHANTS…Again” is her latest published poetry collection.

---

Setu, March 2024

K Pankajam (Women and Spring)

K Pankajam

Spring and Me

Spring is a girl in love, pristine and glowing.

Flipping through the luminous rays

and giggling at the burning star, her sunny paramour 

as she glides down like an apsara, 

the earth attains puberty, bedecked with buds 

instilling in me an oasis of inspiration.

  

Glistening through the green leaves in meadows

and smiling through blooming flowers,  

as she makes the air aromatic and earth vibrant,

scented wind frolics forcing my legs wheel in the air.

After the madness and might of winter

it’s the spring when woozy wasps wander bemused

flit from flowers to flowers, dizzy and frenzied

and make love, roaming, roving and rambling.

As the flowers attain ecstasy and they flaunt in self-esteem 

a rapturous delight, nascent, peeps its head somewhere inside me. 

There is liveliness and music in the air, everywhere.  

Birds in the woods are singing and babbling as in an ensemble.

My home garden springs with colours and bird songs

and it sets my heart and thoughts on fire, hard to douse.  

 

Great is the brilliance of lilacs, lilies, roses and others.

I witness their evolution, their renewal, their joy, 

that makes me surmise upon the power of creation  

and my womanly instinct burgeons in its confined contours. 

.

Heaven comes down to earth 

a transition from lifelessness to liveliness

triggering a springtime memory, sublime.  

It’s spring in my mind too, an impulse for renewal,

a momentum earning might in its own right

and I succumb to its incendiary pull.   

***

Bio: Pankajam Kottarath is a bilingual poet and novelist and an author of more than   40 books.  Her poems, book reviews, short stories and articles have been published in national/international journals and   anthologies.  One of her poetry collections has been translated into French.   Three books on literary criticism discuss her works in detail.  A book of critical essays and research papers on her poems   has also been published.  She is the recipient of many awards.

---

Setu, March 2024

Hema Ravi (Women and Spring)

Photo Courtesy: N. Ravi

(Female Koel eating date plums in Gandhinagar, Adyar, Chennai)

 

 

Fly on the Wall…

 

Spring’s arrived earlier, the morning air’s warmer.

Warily bidding goodbye to the chill, people prepare

for prayers, travel, and spring cleaning –

Hema Ravi

The festive season is just around the corner.

 

Vibrant red, yellow, and magenta flowers

dot the urban landscape. In the garden,

a riot of colors – purple-pink, yellow,

white and scarlet-colored beauties greet

the butterflies, the bees, and the hasty passerby.

Clusters of tiny yellow-white flowers engulf

tender green leaves atop dense branches;

a few appear knobby too– Mangoes!

 

On the street, women adorned in vibrant reds,

greens and yellows choose the best quality

‘vadu-manga’* and ‘mahali kizhangu.’*

It’s also the best time for making

‘vadams’* and ‘papads’* –

perennial favorites of a multitude of people.

 

As the gentle sun comes up, the orchestration gets intense–

the persistent ‘coo-coo’ of the male Koel followed

by a shrill ‘kwik-kwik-kwik’ from the female in

reply: Yes, getting ready to invade, and lay our eggs!!

The ‘barks’ ‘screeches’ ‘snorts’ of squirrels, the competing

 ‘croaks,’ ‘squawks, chirps, clicks, ‘whistles’ and 'growls'

of mynahs, the raucous ‘caws’ and classic ‘coos’

of the ubiquitous crows and pigeons now dominant.

 

Everyone’s running hither and thither, all except me,

which is why, I’ve ample time to watch closely -

a female cuckoo noiselessly devouring

the date palms in the neighbor’s home…

 

Notes: *Vadu Mangai or the raw mango is an unripe variety of the mango – sweet, but pungent, often used for pickling. It is usually savoured with curd rice. in summers.  Similarly, ‘vadams’ aka wafers are prepared in large quantities, sun-dried, and stored for use throughout the year

Mahali is a root vegetable. In English, it is the Decalepis root. The mahali kizhangu has great medicinal value and it is a great appetizer and blood purifier.

*** 

Bio: Hema Ravi is a poet, author, reviewer, editor (Efflorescence), event organizer, independent researcher, and resource person for English language development courses.

---

Setu, March 2024

Snigdha Agrawal (Women and Spring)

Snigdha Agrawal

Spring short-lived

feelings stapled

    punched

      filed

        shoved

         deep inside

           in the steel grey cabinet

            kept in the basement

sacred pages of her life 

      once coloured with shades of Gulal*

         bright red, bottle green, orange

            memories of unguarded moments

               outpouring of emotions

                 uncontrollable

                   play acting scenes

                     of Radha Krishna

                       in Brindavan

One spring, the earth rumbled, and tectonic plates of friendship shifted. 

 *Coloured powder used during the festival of Holi                 

***

Awakened

The colours of spring

overtakes the paleness of age

loose hair from the chignon 

coiled at the nape of her neck

escape

Palms start to sweat

in anticipation

of the warm touch

will they come visit

the wee ones with their water pistons

screaming…

“Dadi…no excuses” 

colouring her face

only day in the year

she feels awakened

***

Lover’s tryst

That full moon night

of spring 

when the day had folded its wings

meaningless revelry had ceased

birds had flown back to their nests

children were asleep

air suffused with the smell of Jasmine

you crept up behind me 

and whispered “Happy Holi”

tucking behind my ear

a bright red hibiscus

powdering my face with yellow pollen

I knew our togetherness

was for keeps

witnessed by the elements

Magical Spring!

***

Bio: Snigdha Agrawal (nee Banerjee) is Bengali born, raised and educated in a cosmopolitan environment, with exposure to the Eastern and Western cultures, imbibing the best of both worlds.  With more than two decades of working in the corporate sector, her outlook on life is balanced, as reflected in her writings. A versatile writer, she writes all genres of poetry, prose, short stories, travelogues, and hotel/restaurant reviews.  A septuagenarian, her passion for writing and travelling continues unabated.  Her learning graph grows and adapts to the contemporary.

 

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Setu, March 2024

Tamikio L. Dooley (Women and Spring)

Tamikio L. Dooley

Women and Spring

The Change of Fragrance by Tamikio Dooley

Blossoms gently touch my lips.

I desire to experience the shift in scent.

To ascertain whether it is sweet,

To determine if it has a sour taste,

I wonder if the bitterness makes my soul fragrant.

I deeply yearn for,

Liberating something sweet,

Sour,

Perhaps it’s the bitterness that transforms my thinking.

Once the flowers change their colors,

In my ear, each color symbolizes a fresh stream of lyrics.

I can hear,

As well as taste,

The change of fragrance,

Who whispers sweet nothings in my ear?

As a woman,

I spring forth,

Harnessing the strength of my blossoming,

To create the scent penetrating my pores,

My scent has become permanent.

I age gracefully, carrying it well into my grayer years.

Soon,

The fragrance in me transforms and becomes a change in the woman I am.

*** 

 

Bio: Tamikio L. Dooley is a multi award-winning author. She is the author of 150 titles and 90 published books. The author writes fiction and nonfiction of crime, thriller, mystery, fantasy, historical, western, romance, zombie apocalypse, and paranormal. In her spare time, she writes short stories, poetry, articles, essays, health books, children books, diaries, journals, inspiring books, culture, African American, and history books.

She is the founder and publisher of CreatiVIngenuitiy Magazine, the Editor of Friendship of People Magazine, and the Ambassador of The Daily Global Nation Newspaper. Tamikio is the President and Founder of Tamikio Dooley Writers Coach Organization, the president of Empowering Education Skills and Programs, the President of Alliance for Culture and Artistic Heritage, Peace and Resilience (ACAHPR), the Ambassador, Honorary President, Chairman, and Advisor of (IFCH) International Forum for Creativity and Humanity Kingdom of Morocco, Director of (AFC) International Foundation for Arab Foundation, an English Trainer and Writer Skills Communication Specialist for Employability at EngLang Skills Training Academy (ELSTA) Organization. Tamikio is also the International Affairs Secretary of the World Wide Writers Association.

Tamikio is featured in Humanity Magazine, CreatiVIngenuitiy Magazine, Kidliomag, Friendship of People Magazine, The Daily Global Nation Newspaper, Connections E-Magazine, along with other magazines and newspapers.

She has received awards and certificates for her works published in Bard’s Day Key Anthology, People’s Poetry Parliament, and Multinational Pen Soldiers Poetry Anthology.  

Recognition Awards & Certificates

-An honorable recognition as the best crime author in September 2016,

- National Poetry Stage Bangladesh Award 2023,

- Higher Honorary Award 2023,

-Certificate for Hyperpoem Book (a poetry book publishing 1700 poets) 2023,

- “Zheng Nian Cup” National Literature (second place prize) 2023,

-Virtual International Artist Gallery Certificate (2023),

- Best Leadership Award, Best Poetry Collection Award 2023,

-People’s Poetry Parliament Literature Certificate 2023,

-Certificate of Appreciate Memorial of V.M. Terehov 2023 (Russia Nizhny Novgord),

-The World Literary Award 2022,

-Won her first crystal trophy award in the crime category (2016), along with other awards and certificates.

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Setu, March 2024

Angela Kosta (Women and Spring)

Angela Kosta

Angela Kosta was born in Albania and has lived in Italy since 1995. She is a translator, essayist, journalist, literary critic, editor and promoter. He has published 11 books: novels, poems and fairy tales in Albanian, Italian and English. His publications have appeared in various literary magazines and newspapers in: Albania, Kosovo, Italy, USA, England, China, Russia, Germany, Saudi Arabia, Lebanon, Algeria, Poland, Australia, Egypt, Greece, Spain, Tajikistan, South Korea, Hungary, India, Bangladesh etc. Angela Kosta translates and writes articles and interviews for the newspaper "Calabria Live", Saturno magazine, the newspaper "Le Radici", the international magazine "Orfeu", Alessandria Today magazine, the Nacional newspaper, the Gazeta Destinacioni, the magazine Perqasje Italo - Shqiptare , the international magazine Atunis - Belgium, collaborates with magazines in Lebanon, International Literature Language Journal (USA), Morocco, Bangladesh, etc. Angela Kosta is Ambassador of Culture and Peace in: Bangladesh, Lebanon, Poland, Morocco, Canada, Algeria, Egypt, etc. Angela Kosta has been translated and published in 28 foreign languages and countries. In the second semester of 2023 alone, she was an author in 84 national and international newspapers and magazines with: poems, articles, interviews, essays, etc... 

CAREFREE GIRL 

Today, on this special day 

The spring sun 

On my eyelids it rests 

With the melody on my lips 

I pick fifty white roses 

As fresh as the years of my life 

To go back in time I would like 

When as a girl 

On the meadows full of daisies I ran 

And very happy I was 

When the technology 

My body didn't enchant 

The carefree girl again 

I would like to be 

Nestled in the river with lilies 

Embracing the wonderful waterfall 

Smell the scents of the trees 

Listening to the birds singing 

Touch the colors of the fruits between the branches 

Composing verses under the golden moon 

In the company of the stars 

Knowing how much all this 

Cheerful would make me. 

Today, on this spring day, 

I feel alive, joyful and at peace 

In the midst of this infinite enchantment 

Unique magic that surrounds me. 

I love this day... 

I love the sun... 

I admire the beautiful, fresh roses 

Like the years of my life 

I'm in love with spring...

---

Setu, March 2024

Sutanuka Ghosh Roy (Women and Spring)

Sutanuka Ghosh Roy

Offering

Fiery red Palash
grabs me in his arms
raceme petals kiss
the nape of my neck
like a coy bride
I shudder at the soft touch.
The flame burns
my unshared desires
out of ashes
I rise to become
Palash
an offering
at the altar of the
Troika.

***

Bio: Dr. Sutanuka Ghosh Roy is an Associate Professor of English at Tarakeswar Degree College, The University of Burdwan. She is currently engaged in active research and her areas of interest include Indian English Literature, Postcolonial Literature, Dalit Literature, Gender Studies, etc. She has published widely and presented papers at National and International Seminars. She is a regular contributor to research articles and papers to anthologies, and national and international journals of repute like Text, Journal of Writing and Writing Courses, Australia, Kervan International Journal of Afro-Asiatic Studies, University of Turin, Italy, Fiar, University of Bielefeld, Germany, Muse India, Setu, Lapiz Lazuli, The Times of India, The Statesman, Life and Legends, Kitaab, etc. Her poems have been anthologized and published in Setu, Piker Press, Harbinger Asylum, Teesta Journal, etc. The titles of her books are Critical Inquiry: Text, Context, and Perspectives, Commentaries: Elucidating Poetry, Rassundari Dasi’s Amar Jiban: A Comprehensive Study, Ashprishya (translated into Bengali, a novel by Sharan Kumar Limbale,). “Opera” is her debutant collection of poetry. She is also a reviewer, a poet, and a critic.

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Setu, March 2024

Ranjana Sharan Sinha (Women and Spring)

Ranjana Sharan Sinha

SPRING IN WOODLANDS

(1)

A pleasant, placid day in March!

Awakened from their winter slumber

the woodlands and the little valleys

have come alive in spring --

Growth, greenery and colour

offering a reprieve from frost and fire!

(2)

I soak up the vernal beauty

on the road through woodlands:

The rolling hills extend 

a long way into distance

under the vast infinite blue -- 

Clear and cloudless.

The Narmada nearby 

beckons me closer 

amid a lush landscape!

(3)

An epic view of wild flowers

untamed with surreal beauty!

Bunches of white silky blossoms

are hanging from tree branches.

Although they are at a distance,

I can smell the balmy fragrance!

Small zephyr lilies-- pink, yellow and white

have started peeking out from 

the grass-like thin leaves.

The symmetry of man- made garden

pale in comparison to this chaotic array!

(4)

The colour of spring becomes intense:

Palash-- flame of the forest-- blaze

and burst into orange-red flowers

on rocky slopes and near the riverbank.

The enticing abundance and the splendid hue

create a stunning splendour--

Words can't capture the mesmerizing beauty!

(5)

The images of Palash-- rubies of spring--

have become memories for a lifetime!

Even today they linger deep within 

the corners of my mind and

brighten the inner corridors of my being!

I remember Wordsworth 

and the profusion of golden daffodils!

***

BIO: Recipient of a number of national and international awards for her contribution to poetry, Dr. Ranjana Sharan Sinha is an eminent bilingual poet, author, academic and retd. professor of English. She is a well- known voice in Indian Poetry in English with international recognition.She received a commendation from the former President of India, A.P.J. Abdul Kalam for her poem 'Mother Nature' contained in her collection SPRING ZONE. Two poems from her collection SCENTS AND SHADOWS are included in the Postgraduate Syllabus of Purnea University.Her poems, short stories, articles and research papers have been widely published in reputed dailies, magazines, e-zines, archives and journals including Sahitya Akademi's Indian Literature in print and online. Her poems have been translated into Greek, German, Albanian, Chinese, Spanish, Italian, Russian, Persian and Nepali languages.She has authored and published 09 books in different genres and 50 research papers. She is one of the members of the Editorial Board of Our Poetry Archive (OPA).

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Setu, March 2024

Nandini Sahu (Women and Spring)

Nandini Sahu

A Man Like You

 

Did I paint the image of a man like you and secured you to that

canvas, I don’t really know. But I know, I tailored myself in.

 

You may ask me, why did I come to your life in the first place?

“Well, not because I was lonely, depressed, blue or was feeling awfully alone.

 

For those ailments, there is therapeutic support, isn’t it? I sensed my ideal

quest for a man like you when I was feeling the best of my feelings--

 

contented, romantic, ebullient, jovial, strong, real, feminine.

I wanted to share a segment of those with you, a man like you,in crux.”

 

You treasured that. You cherished when I said, “if someone

comes to our lives with depression, they will only share that. And

 

if one comes with optimism, that becomes infectious.”

Then you resolved that I am the most optimistic woman you have come across.

 

I love the way you touch me without touching me sometimes

and of course your gentle kisses and ardent touch when you are intense.

 

I know you will never give up on me even if I am grim or otherwise;

I love your catching giggles and the beam. A man like you is my happy place!

 

You are unceasingly on my cognizance—if they call it love.

You are the man who can finish not just my sentences,

 

but my thoughts. Are you my Stream of Consciousness,

or that Objective Correlative that I live in reverence?

 

 

They say the glass is half-empty or half-full, it’s a construal so false!

How about our new narrative my love -- of filling the quasi-filled glass?

 

After I had given all my reasons you just winked. As if you knew that you knew

that you knew -- a woman like me is your lifetime quest, your solitary wish.

***

Manthan—A Ghazal

 

Then you asked me, why do I shine so bright?

I said, my love, because I am your agenda of the light!

 

Then you pondered, how can my love be such a delight!

I said calmly, because love, at once, is opaque and clear daylight.

 

You brooded, “how can someone, how can someone

be a lover of your poise, your repute!!”

 

I said, Samudra Manthan, the churning of the ocean, was accomplished to extract

the Amrit, celestial nectar, where the Devas and the Danavas took part.

 

In a tug of war challenged to roil the elixir from the ocean

bed to attain immortality and eternal life beyond bereavement.

 

The medieval Hindu Theology encompasses this legend

that the Devas were carrying the amṛit away from the Asuras, adamant.

 

Drops of nectar fell at four places on the Earth--Haridwar, Prayaga (Prayagraj),

Trimbak (Nashik), and Ujjain, in their divine right.

 

In the churning of the ocean delightful treasures,the archetypes

for their earthly and heavenly complements were brought.

 

Oceanic depths brought Chandra, the moon, Parijata, the tree fragrant,

the four-tusked elephant Airavata, Lord Indra's mount.

 

Amid all that glory and glee of me, your Lakshmi, you churned our fate,

using Mount Meru as the rod and Vasuki as rope, the king of the serpent.

 

You became Lord Shiva, you chose to devour the poison, you drank it.

In my ‘manthan’, you elected glory for me and for yourself, venom was kept.

 

Nandini’s conjecture--love churned me, this love was my ‘manthan’.

Love took me out of the darkness of coalfields, like a granite.

 

My adorable, love is ember, love granite, love murky pebble, love-- a stone bright.

Love devotion, love renunciation, love merger, love—a prayer from the heart.

***

Epilogue

 

               “To love is to burn, to be on fire.” – Jane Austen

 

 

After the homily today, the much-needed discourse,

after the tête-à-tête after eons

I had those heart-in-the-mouth immersions.

I apostrophized you, my paramour,

and contemplatively recollected the vivid feelings

that we had before ages.

The heart brimmed, eyes teemed, soul abounded.

 

When you said

thinking of me is ‘an accidental impulse’,

I of course didn’t take that fabrication.

You know love,if you live to be a thousand-years-old,

I want to breathe a thousand-minus-one-day

so that I never have to live run-down of your love.

I love you as certain clandestine things are to be loved,

surreptitious, between the sleuth and the soul.

Despite your I-don’t-love-you edifice, I know, I always know,

that you have been in love

increasingly, and then all at once, the way you fall numb.

 

There was a time when I thought that you were perfect,

and so I loved you. Then I knew that you were imperfect

like me, and I loved you even more.

I love you for what I am when I am with you

not for what you have made of yourself,

but for what you have assembled of me.

I love you for the fragment of me that you fetch from time’s womb.

 

Love, thinking of you keeps me wakeful.

Fancying you keeps me benumbed.

Being with you keeps me thriving.

You are essential to me like the heart needs a beat.

I love you and it is the commencement of the whole lot.

 

You make me wish to be a better person.

Love, now we know, love never dies a natural death.

It dies because we don’t know how to restock its foundation.

It dies of blindness and blunders and perfidies.

It dies of ailment and lesions; it dies of inertia, of acerbic ruination.

 

But then, now I agree with Theodore Roethke,

“Love is not love until love’s vulnerable.”

Shall I call it the epilogue of love, or a new foundation?

---

Setu, March 2024