Tag Archives: COUNTRY

Prostrate Men

a poem by Rakesh Rai

The smoke had left the ground,
There was no move, no sound.
The mastiff rose with a high chest,
To find its dead master in earnest.
The aura brought the smell of destruction,
The mastiff moved forward with adoration.
It had, at last, its master found,
Lying lifeless on the damaged ground.
There were thousands of men paying penalty to dead,
All died for their country to get their history made.
There were lakhs of battle men terminated,
Fought for their national feelings to get ventilated.
Every soul became sad as besmirch had got their nation,
But now, every dying heart knew, war was not the solution.
No victors, no vanquished,
To speak of pride, so childish.
The robust dog thought, God, why this war?
You have taken their lives fixed in a deadly jar.
Men were fighting for their own mother nature,
To lose their only lives like forest creatures.
Again the mastiff rose with a tear in its eye,
And asked the question as to its depression – why?
It had its evening for its master in moan,
And started its maiden journey sad alone.

A Tribute to the Greatest Dreamer of Our Generation – APJ Abdul Kalam Sir

a poem by Avijeet Das

Infinite dreams of those sublime moments
When you surreptitiously read about stars and galaxies
And you helped your father ferry the villagers across the river
Priceless thoughts that you comprehended in your cerebrum
Precarious to imagine, dangling onto a thin gossamer
Desperate to break-in with that brilliant discovery!

You would stay awake when everybody else slept to read and study from borrowed textbooks Of helping friends and thoughtful elders, you would then dream-on those illuminating yet Elusive rays in your mind’s canvas and paint with the multitudinous colors of the rainbow, you Never thought the mind had any limits
For your dreams encompassed the Universe of Universes!

As you woke up before dawn while everybody else slept and only dreamt, you toiled hard and Delivered newspapers to sleepy homes and to give shape to your dreams that would await your Paint-brush and colors to arrange from the disarray!
And as the dawn slowly took shape so did the pied blooming of a desert rose !

~ Forever you will be remembered A. P. J. Abdul Kalam Sir, you taught us to dream big!