Category Archives: Lekhan

DAWN OF THE SPRING

DAWN OF THE SPRING

Aparna Hari

I headed towards the (no) man’s land
To celebrate their spring revelry so grand;
Heart filled with hope for the awaited tryst
Dreaming about my share of festival feast.

But, what lay before me is a barren land!!
Without a drop, without a sprout;
Everything around is gloomy and sad,
Deprived of life, dull, rotten and foul.

“Do ye men have no rain and grain?”
I ask the mother earth;
“They have no heart, except a brain,”
Said she in a heavy breath, “that has of wisdom dearth.”

“The Autumn is everlasting here.
With men never shedding their differences;
Considering each to be other’s superior,
Don’t leave behind their prejudices.”

“The woods are cut to meet their ends
My heart is pierced for their listless needs;
Can’t you see that impregnable fence,
By the side of which, are planted “hatred” seeds? “

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The Man In The Temple

by Aparna Hari

Everytime I step into the Holy Dome of God,
Which lay at the other end of the road;
I see him, crouching on the ground,
Without a move, without a word;

Know not I, where he came from,
What he worked and where he lived;
If he was there, like all others,
To seek miracles by selfish prayers;

Clad in dirty rags, he seemed to be a beggar,
On the first day of my encounter;
Stretching out his empty hand
Pretending to be one among the old, invalid lad;

With all matted locks, covering his face
The single loincloth that covered his waist;
Unwashed that his body was,
With hands, and feet blistered with pus;

His eyes blinked often to look around him,
The lips occasionally parting to a groan so dim;
His fingers moved clumsily across his face,
He tottered and tumbled in his pace;

A handful of morsels made his meal,
And a cup of water quenched his thirsty ordeal;
The open place with dust and grass made his night ride,
And he slept like nature’s innocent child;

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THE PATH ALWAYS TRODDEN

 THE PATH ALWAYS TRODDEN

Aparna Hari

I have trodden this path since my childhood,
The path, which, then opened the gates to my “new” life;
Everything seemed so exciting to my mind,
And I was content with no trace of any strife;

The same road I would take daily,
The same people and things I come across;
Ne’er believed there would be “The Other” way,
To look at when Life is on its pass;

I had no questions to linger on,
Of the land that lay beyond the line of separation;
Similar to what existed between dusk and dawn,
Which is a fertile womb of imagination;

This went on, my walking across the path,
For hours, for days, and for years;
Ne’er I feared the unleashing of Obsolete’s wrath,
Believing that, everything in “new”, freezes;

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THE TRAFFIC RED LIGHT

 THE TRAFFIC RED LIGHT

Aparna Hari

I stand at the cross roads,
My feet tied to the ground;
With those flashy red glows,
Directing my “human” mind;

I hear the vehicle trample
In the shrillness of the dark;
Like an automated parade sample
Only that it’s not a rhythmic march;

I watch men in armours
Racing across the flyovers;
With their high speed bullets,
Piercing the heart of the roaring streets;

To overtake, to keep in pace,
Was all the aim of that mad race;
“Ne’er mind if a one or two souls,
Got crushed in the pursuit of your goals”;

I try to look into those faces,
Much beneath their shaded blazers;
To find an iota of care and concern,
For those, the “elite” society shun;

Alas! I see not human countenance,
Created by the Divine provenance;
But of the covering masks so beautiful,
Bought with the price of the Human Soul;

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