In His Small Bed
He renounced all pleasures of life,
And buried himself for years
In his small bed.
The darkness inside the warm blanket
Was where he lived.
It was after some years that he believed
He could see and hear some people
Who were afar.
He smiled hearing one of them
Crack a joke
He cried seeing one of them
Felt sadness creep inside her heart.
He believed he was omniscient,
Omnipresent.
A day came when he thought of himself
As a prophet of God and
A saint, sadly, who’s death was near.
When he lost his mind,
No believer came to see him.
There was not a knock on the door.
Willie Gordon Suting
Dolce
A song of life that
Emerges from bosom
Drifting to meet
The brimming river of emotion,
Measuring the breadth
Of blue agony,
Tailoring the new robe
For the dilapidated heart
Which is latent
And dry in feelings.
Parthajit Borah
Oh Sun
Sun, Oh Sun! Why are you shy?
Come out in the open,
Shine from the sky.
People, young and old,
Are feeling the cold;
Dear, Oh Dear! Please consider.
Give us the warmth
That we so desire.
It’s been days now,
Since we last saw you.
The wait is too long.
So, do come out strong!
A. Syiem
I am a woman
From the day a girl is born,
Dreams she has are deterred all along,
Lessons she is taught by society
She is taught to live her life as per society
Education she receives but not just once
She is forever told, no, rather reminded
This is not for you; this isn’t the way you talk, this isn’t the way you sit,
This is not how you walk,
She grows up, learning these lessons.
But deep inside her heart she has dreams;
A lucky few fulfil theirs but others die unfulfilled
Buried deep inside that heart of hers.
She is taught that she has names to carry
Why isn’t she taught the value of her own name?
Why does she always have to be someone’s daughter, sister, wife and a mother?
Why cannot she just be herself and her name?
Her emotions are pounded, she is laughed at by many and scorned equally well.
She can nurture a dream of a small house and a good life but that too is crushed by sensibility.
She dreams big of flying planes and there will be hands to pull her down
And amidst that she will search for one eye and one arm that will help her nurture her dream.
She wants to soar in the sky, breathe in life
But there are many who will kill her without a hint of remorse in their eyes
They call it norms of society, they say they need to carry forward the legacy,
But who are they to decide that legacy is always in a boy’s name?
Respect, affection, concern, sincerity, devotion, dedication and more imbibed in one.
Judge not a woman by her gender, she is much more than this word.
She lives her life in everyone else’s
She laughs even when times are tough,
She lends a hand to wipe a tear from your eyes,
Judge her not by her birth.
For once, live for her, she lives by you all through; dream for her, let her dream, inspire her to live life through.
Do this for all the women you meet.
You need not be the provider for her, but give her the respect that she deems-
A clean heart, a clean look, a pure smile will go a long way through.
This is one way you can help be the woman that she is.
Paromita Chakraborty