To Abul Ahmed Firdauz, Varun was just a young boy who did not need to know the past. At seventeen, Varun needed to know nothing but his responsibilities as a son. There was a field to plough, an exam to pass and a mother to care for. The last thing he needed was to foster childish obsessions.
But it was tiring these days. Their arguments were longer and louder. It isn’t very easy when you are fifty five years old, poor and suffering from arthritis. The pain is unbearable sometimes. So, he pulled a chair outside to their front yard and sat down to rest after a long day. Smoking his hand rolled cigarette, he looked up to the sky and sighed heavily.
Insha Allah, this will pass soon enough.
He liked sitting outside every evening, blowing out little rings of white smoke into the dusk that turned to…
Narratives are often exaggerated
for fear of unaroused laughter and silent
mockers. There are those that wear diamonds
in their ears and walk around with side swept hair
and burnt broccoli in the pockets of their white collared shirts.
They do not care for comical stories of unrealized
imaginations and dreams of blemished rejects,
dark skinned and unlike their distant loves.
The world may talk of new beauty beyond sizes
and colors. I know white creams and botox
still make the most money.
Because he loved me the least and he hurt me the most.
Because somewhere I got tired of still waters.
I fell for tsunami waves, crashing on my shore
destroying every little piece of me. I hated him in the beginning.
I hated him in the end, but somewhere in between
I fell in love with the idea that the roar in his waters was meant for me.
He screamed and cried, and I cried too. And somewhere there
I began to see the words and melody that formed on my lips. It was
magic. But the painful kind. (more…)
Red hood cars with metal rims were prepared
to whisk away that indignant girl who votes for the hand,
and Baboo ready to spring on those
half-wit photographers who had no credentials to their name.
There is no value for framed certificates in this land of street credit.
Motor cycles burn. Lathis charged.
I am happy to post a submission by Willie Gordon Suting who is a poet and writer from my hometown, Shillong. For me, it is always heart warming to read poems from one of my own. This poem is laced with imagery and a subtle message of hope for the hopeless. Willie’s style is prosaic, simple and full of raw potential. His writings have appeared in the Sunday Supplement of The Shillong Times, a daily from Shillong and also in The Northeast Today (Online Magazine) .He currently works as a schoolteacher in Shillong.(more…)
She used to be just an Egyptian goddess that I would read of,
with a zero figure and pretty face of yellow, hair I want. But today,
these days, she is not a goddess and she is not history. These days
she walks around with black masks and big guns, slashing throats
and reeking of poisonous terror, evil I cannot comprehend. Now,
she is not only making films of severed heads with men who hate
the west but speak like it too. She’s started blowing up dreams (more…)
I have always loved creativity and it’s something that stirs my heart. I also love submitting my work to people, journals, magazines, etc. simply because it is always nice if they accept and you get a platform to showcase a bit of who you are in your work. That is why I have decided to open a Submissions page on my blog because I feel that featuring other writers on my site will not only give them a platform but also create an atmosphere of even more creativity and even better poetry.
I don’t have millions of followers to show your poetry to but I do have quite a wide readership that includes people from all around the world. It’s amazing when I get messages from people from countries I’d never expect. It is really wonderful to see people who take poetry seriously.
So please do send in any poems that you might want to have on my blog.
All rights will remain with the author and should you want to have it removed from the site at any later stage, I will gladly comply. This is not an official publication but just a chance to be featured on a creative forum. (more…)