Monday, May 20, 2013

Three poems...... Hardaman Singh



life is short,
expectations big,
make best use of it,
no time, for regret or repent.

Every second ,each moment,
Grab with both hands,
to leave an imprint,
that you were here once.

No matter what you do,
critics are part of you,
don't hear what people say,
just your mind and heart
should be with you.

Good , Bad and ugly for all,
praises have been sung,
justifications galore,
in some book or the other.
All preach in words,
how many have done in deeds.

Love or to be loved,
passions, emotions , feelings,
short lived they are but,
commitment and compromise
words are there to legitimize,
necessary is it ?

That you look for excuse,
to fulfill desires,
which are your rights.
Asked yourself why ?

The best and worst ,
all will happen here.
Time is on leash,
happy moments, sad days,
only will you remember,
just move on with what
you want, destiny you decide,
remember you have,
only one life to live.


Story of a Woman.

Born in the society,
which unwelcome' s 
it's very arrival.
Infancy and childhood,
in only arms she knows,
of a woman again.

Never could fathom,
what made her different,
why was she never,
on her father's shoulder.

Time had come,
when she had to let go,
for stronger arms to guide,
through the wild world outside.

Was sent to school , she realised
it was compulsory, for benefits
the family would get.
books became her best friends,
she came out in flying colors.

With scholarships in hand,
resolute in her conviction,
with hardly a word of encouragement
she went on her way, to fulfill dreams,
working hard day and night,
to secure her place, in the unfriendly world.

Armed with information,
confident and assured,
with authoritative steps,
she returns to her house.

With a smile on her face,
spellbound are all,
conviction and sureness ,
in her actions, send the message
loud and clear, I am back.

Mother on one side father on another,
walks out of the house,
without a look back, complete silence
ascends, admiring eyes follow her,
She with a conviction that her
duty as a woman is never over



Dense clouds were 
swooping down,
vision was getting blurred
faces around me, 
fading away slowly
the voices soft and muted.

I was not going to let go
once more I wanted ,
to live through four season,
willed myself for moments ,
few more.

Twenty two years of life,
flashed by like lightening,
memories of that spring day,
came rustling by.

Many of us friends,
sitting on soft grass,
rows of blooming flowers,
splash of colors all round,
cool breeze whistling it's own tune,
our chatter and laughter
of youthful exuberance shattered ,
by a loud cry I remember last.

I opened my eyes, to white every where,
tubes and wires, all over me,
in a befuddled state of mind, I wondered,
why were these branches hanging above me,
with no leaves , had Autumn set in.

The effort of my will,
strong as ever,
feeling of warmth spread
spread through me,
summer I thought had set in.

Beads of sweat,
glistening on my face,
felt like raindrops,
of the first rains,
I had always loved.

Slowly I could feel the chill,
but knew it was not winter,
steadily ebbing away was
the moment I wanted.
I obstinate as ever,
wanted my spring back.

I opened my eyes,
with smile on my lips,
faces around me dazzled,
back they smiled, saw splatter of colors
all around me.

Feeling of ecstasy enveloped me,
with spring in my steps,
I was floating over the clouds,
my scarf blowing in the wind,
as if waving back to all.

Smile of satisfaction on my face,
I was on my way, to the land of flowers.
Never defeated, never giving up,
I saw my last Spring----AFTER ALL.

This is an attempt a tribute by me after hearing from a friend
about a young girl who i have never met died with cancer, i am no writer i know, but just wanted to put down last moment feelings--justice i have done i don't know, any one of u likes it , i will feel i have achieved in what i wanted to write.

Gita Pandit 

Thursday, January 3, 2013

Translation by Gita Pandit ... poem 'A Coat' William Butler Yeats..


मैंने बनाया अपने गीत को एक कोट

ढका हुआ कशीदाकारी से

बाहर पुरानी पौराणिक गाथाओं के

एडी से गले तक

लेकिन मूर्खों ने पकड़ लिया इसे

पहन लिया दुनिया की निगाहों में

जैसे उन्होंने बनाया हो इसे

गीत, उन्हें लेने दो इसे

क्यूंकि वहाँ हैं बहुत से और साहसिक कार्य

नग्न घूमने में.

गीता पंडित 

3  जनवरी  2013 

A Coat ... poem by William Butler Yeats 

I MADE my song a coat
Covered with embroideries
Out of old mythologies
From heel to throat;
But the fools caught it,
Wore it in the world's eyes
As though they'd wrought it.
Song, let them take it,
For there's more enterprise
In walking naked. ......

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

A poem .......... Taslima Nasrin


You Go Girl ! ____

They said—take it easy… 
Said—calm down… 
Said—stop talking'…
Said—shut up….
They said—sit down…. 
Said—bow your head… 
Said—keep on crying', let the tears roll…

What should you do in response?

You should stand up now
Should stand right up
Hold your back straight
Hold your head high…
You should speak
Speak your mind
Speak it loudly

You should scream so loud that they must run for cover.
They will say—'You are shameless!'
When you hear that, just laugh…

They will say— 'You have a loose character!'
When you hear that, just laugh louder…

They will say—'You are rotten!'
So just laugh, laugh even louder…

Hearing you laugh, they will shout,
'You are a whore!'

When they say that, 
just put your hands on your hips,
stand firm and say,
'Yes, yes, I am a whore!'

They will be shocked.
They will stare in disbelief.
They will wait for you to say more, much more…

The men amongst them will turn red and sweat.
The women amongst them will dream to be a whore like you. 


Poem -Taslima Nasrin 
send by Gita Pandit 

Thursday, May 17, 2012

MOM ..... Gita Pandit


Mom !

you are
my eyes
through which I see
the whole universe

In my arteries
you are flowing blood
that gives me life

The bones, meat-marrow
that gives me strength
to stand on my feet

You are my mind
that creates
into me 
of right or wrong

You are GOD
of  the UNIVERSE 

you are Mother.

my cent – cent tributes to you

Gita Pandit