Gurupurnima

On the occasion of Gurupurnima,I would like to salute my Gurus .

Your kind presence in my life made me happy
Your lovely guidance gave me the way to step
Your ideals are my desires,your words are my energy
It's you ,who is real God for me
From the day I came to realize something
You gave the me the sense to understand
The God,the Goddesss,sky ,Universe too
depict your greatness My Guru

Twameva Mata, Chapita Twameva.
Twameva Bandhu, Cha Sakha Twameva.
Twameva Vidya, Dravinum Twameva.
Twameva Sarvam Mama Deva Deva.
Gurur Brahma Gurur Vishnuhu 
Guru Devo Maheswaraha
Guru Saakshaat Parabhrahma
Tasmai Sri Gurave Namaha

Gurupurnima, the day reminds me many things; the day makes a circle of my student life from childhood up to now. There were many Gurus in life around which I spent my life their voices made me so eager to be like them because my existence was nothing in the world .I tried to copy them .It was tea garden where I spent my childhood and walking around tea plantation was my schedule. I still remember our Iman Sir from same tea garden’s school which was a facility to the worker’s children. There were multiple facilities from the company from admission to medical facilities it gave to us. We were only four girls in class and were very naughty.

I still remember my  mom used to send me to school as it was so near to my house  even in holidays before my I got admit in class one. I used to sit near Sir and he used to teach me with love.

After him, Narendra Sir came and he was so dedicated to us.He was more than teachers, he belonged to local tribe of Uriya and seemed so kind. He gave voluntarily coaching classes to students to make the student more attentive in education. I really miss him.He taught the school song for school to junior brothers from our schools even my younger brother was one of the learner. I remember the song

Aikhan amar parhahali Hey

Parhu ami milijuli

Aitai aani diye juta muja pindhi

Ami dayar sanikere 2

Garhu aami aamar jiwan

Garhu ami hunar akham

Hey jau bala aami parha hali

Let’s go to school wearing the socks and shoes brought by, let’s read together  ,we build our life and golden Assam.

And there were many teachers who were really memorable to me including my teachers from Tribhuvan University whose smiling face always gave me the courage to explore new ideas around us.

The Voices

Midday meals, the mock at poverty are combined here

Death the symbol of poor for money, for politics,

The fleshes poor are served in cold and dirty floors in hospitals

Meaningless, valueless, existed, played by power

The openings of bars still highlighted, the taxes are counted

The dirty river still flows; the news for it has turned cold

No never they are just  ignored ,filth, unused ,thrown ,valueless to  world.

See,the pregnancy of little girl though unwanted, unwished still exist there

The imposed desire of married man upon her

The changed rules, the juvenile act, the speech ,the talk, the news

Remain untouched, unkind, unsoft, unable,ununderstood, unwise

The victims die here,the cry is unheard, the pain gets lost somewhere

The attacks like acid is unforgettable dear, they are wound to heart dear

Oh.Budget, budget has been made loud

A big mass after it, lured ,pulled,shouted,talked

The speech are made,modified,are edited now

As the media monster likes, to pull and push

The play of media and the speech struck together

Brings out the ultimate shadows of truth and realiy

The muddy roads of Kathmandu remain silent

As unwished, unmaintained, unhoped and unable ,freak ,lamenting only.

 The scars, the scary eyes of the victims are insulted, humiliated here

The burden of life over death, the burden of pain over life, the burden of poverty over life

Still hunts them mercilessly, her families are ruined, aged to death

The feminism fails here shamelessly dear; I just try to peep out of window

To explore truth, to know you, the ghost of transitional phase makes me failed

As unwished, unmaintained, unhoped and left over here.

The bookish talk,the lectures so called universities are still continues

The theories are brought, carried, reminded, explored imported and exported

The observation are made, facts are analyzed, criticized and politicized here

Even Slyvia’s depression could not remove the following pain

Where are you  Dharabasi when the sad eyes of those seek you

You just ran for Radha……………………………………………………………….

Where are you Rahim ,as your Doha could not melt the hearts

Here snakes are destroying your chandan woods too..................

Where you Devkota ,here your Kantipuri Nagari is destroyed now

The fake remembrance are made for you dear ,with crocodile tears

Did revolution could change them,the hunger still kills many

The poor are killed in Ratnapark for touching things ,are they noticed dear

No never they are just ignored ,filth, unused ,thrown ,valueless to  world.

As unwished, unmaintained, unhoped truth surround everyone here.

Oh, Renata  is you there now?

Your song of apartment fires to war to the race relation

Childhood stories, old news stories,

Past lovers and lousy parties,

Issues surrounding the nature of identity and subjectivity

The question of reference and representation.

Has brought any change here?

As unwished, unmaintained, unhoped

No ,no ,the eyes are full of tears,the deadly silence wants to break the rules

Disobey, violate, challenge, like the river it wants to make new way

A voice should be taken notice of ,the hunger should listen to.........

Can you understand me ?

Can I be memorized Oh Ranimahal as you are
 See there are uncountable deaths 
Even my cities remain unsuccess
unable,unwanted,thrown,washed away
Unheard,Untouched, kept brutally
As we never wished so.


O God Pashupatinath

My desire to be extend 
are still in my heart.
your presence   my days bright.
The statue of Kalki 
tortures me day by day
to be aware of  darkness
to know death ,uncertainity
off ,the vacant words ,darkness of heart 
never leave me so cruel they are
meaningless ,i am meaningless

 The crowd beside you still attracts me
the white touch of you melts my heart.
I gaze at the sky for meaning
and turn back to you for truth
because me speechless
me unwanted ,sad, need to be awaken
a statue of non-existence 
in meaningless world

                 Elephant riding,greenery mosaic,overwhelms me 
                 The vividness it carries for nature
                  the empty eyes of mines shadows them
                  explores the uncertainity out of it
                   like the death of children as media monster expalins
                   in Chhapra , having meals ...........................

                                                         

The lakes you have the himalays  are there dear
lets stop the music the moments are unexpressible
i want to be part of you ,as me is shattered
Because I am vacant,fool and do not exist
nowhere is my destiny ,broken heart
I am thrown out of the sky mercilessly 
but still oh nature 
I try to reach you
to be calm
to unite myness............................

You know Sameer .

SAMEER

Please vote for Sameer ,my son ,he has been selected as participants of cutest baby photo ,please open the link below and like and comment in the link for photo.
http://www.babyphotocontest.co.uk/baby-photo-contest-uk/Babyname_Sameer_3493

It’s me

You mom

Sitting near the computer

Playing with keyboard

Wants to count the votes

Which were voted?

For you .

There is someone in facebook

Sending messages to me

Me a puppet for facebook

Keep on running after

Even emptiness define  it.

No friends in real standing beside

You know SAMEER

The vain attempt makes me bore

And I just remain attached to it

In search of something undefined

Where is the answer you provided me

Where is the flower you gave me

SAMEER YOU KNOW DEAR

These emptiness of physical object

Makes me hang only.

It’s a machine which compels to sit

And run as it wants

Even my friends

Dances as it wishes.

It a machine and me man.

Do you SAMEER

My tired eyes

My sad heart

Is fed up of  such earthly vampire

Sucked ,eaten and thrown

My own existence

What a journey did you have

From Delhi to Kathmandu

The busses were full

The  trains were spaceless

But still I found nobody for me.

My vacant eyes were in search of something

Were they for the temples

Around the city

Or the forests around the rural

Unknown ,untouched.

I ran from here to there

With the shattered Identity

Lamenting about something

What I did not know

And still in search of it

Is it the waste land

As Eliot defines

Or just me being caught

In  terms

As you always refer.

Unwanted these eyedrops

Which are coming on the way

Meaningless fake identities

Are there spread

And making me fake.

Wandering around

Questioning the psyche

I have fed up

Know nothing

Meaningless………………….life.

Sucide ?Sucide

A solution

For individual who does

And the earning for the media

And killing time for crowd.

Does  “death”

Has value for someone who accept it

Meaningless …………………….

Uncertain

But still highlighted.

The death caused by flood in china

Or Indian Uttarakhand scenery

Or Japanese Tsunami

Or accidents in Dhading

They lead no meaning

But still highlighted.

Of course the fear

Of death captures us

And we are hunted

And possibilities are

Explored  

And we remain hunted.

It’s rainy season

The season of mango

Prevails here

The floody scenario of news

Are discussed here

 And still highlighted.

Are you playing SAMEER

There with grandpa

I am Sitting near the computer

Playing with keyboard

Wants to count the votes

Which were voted?

For you .

Female foeticide…

 

Female foeticide……

The seasame seeds

The sunflower

The green grass

And spread cereals

Were there

She was dead

Lying beside the bed

Was anybody there, dear?

Was anybody for her?

She was a small baby

Not formed, not got any shape

The dogs were snatching her body

Thrown without mercy.

Red, red blood over her body

Her tiny small fingers raise nothing

In a polythin bag

“Her desire to be born “

Seems finished.

Could she yell for these tortures?

Which are made upon her?

How and why she is thrown

Out and was made garbage.

Her lamentations

Were unheard

Were made shut

Due to sand in her mouth

Added, put, poured

To be silent forever.

The sky is cloudy

The trees are leafless

Even the birds are

Fearful to it

But ……………..

Still traditions

Has covered

You and your space

Do you want to?

Humiliate nature

Please stop the extortion

Please stop the violation

Please stop the killings

You do.

We need silence

We need peace

We need equality

We need care

We need identity

Because we are dead

Thrown in bag with

No identity

Don’t we need justice?

Please answer me for my helplessness

For the lamentations I consist in my heart

Please answer for my motherhood

Which I had right in future

Please answer me now.

They say

Aborted foetuses were very often fed to dogs.
Doctors, whose aim is to save the lives of people?

Happily kill us

Is it true, please answer me now.

They say

The girls are treated as sex objects

Are being sold for low-priced funds

Unreported.

 Unexamined.Ignored.

They say

With the advent of technology

Determination and sex selective abortion

Are the ways of killings?

Is it true, please answer me now?

Please answer me now for

One million girls

who do not see their first birthdays. 

Of the 12 million girls born in India,

Please answer me now for

10 million female fetuses

Who have been aborted in the country?

Over the past two decades.

Please answer me now for the news reports

Incidences where women

Get their female child aborted for Rs 2000.

 Happily kill the foetus for a meager two thousand.

Me and my experience of childhood

It was tea garden where I got born and spent my childhood. The green leaves of the tea with its huge garden always pulled me towards it. I still remember we used to collect small white flowers of the tea plant even green typed small fruit it consists. Usually due to regular trimming of  the tea plants they  remain short height to produce new leaves after picking. We used to run after the fruits which were planted there in the mid of these gardens.The big Lorries carrying tea leaves from different gardens to factory in order to manufacture.

Assam tea is a black tea named after the region of its production, Assam, in India. Assam tea is manufactured specifically from the plant Camellia sinensis var. assamica (Masters). This tea, most of which is grown at or near sea level, is known for its body, briskness, malty flavor, and strong, bright color. Assam teas, or blends containing Assam, are often sold as "breakfast" teas.

And being a resident in Assam, I came to learn many aspect of its tea –gardens. My father was a worker there and eventually he had to make visits of different tea gardens of same tea company and I used to get the chance to visit these places with him.

The scenario used to be very heart touching. I really miss these gardens where butterflies used to add more beautiful colors to them, even though the whole gardens used to full of red monkeys. We children used to fear with them. Picking mango,chalta and other jungle fruits and flowers were our hobbies and for that after schools we used to roam here and there.

Suddenly I had to migrate somewhere in town area. It was Duliyajan. It is mainly known for its oil related industries, Oil India Limited, one of the country's largest oil and gas companies is headquartered in Duliajan and Assam Gas Company Limited, which carries out business related to natural gas in India, owned by the Government of Assam.

There was a Hindi school which made me compel to study .Previous I had studied in Assamese school because of unavailability of any other language schools. In Duliyajan, I preferred Namghar (A type of temple for Assamese) and most of my break in lunch time used to be spent there. There were beautiful gardens and I really enjoyed it, the large sound of the musical instrument, big statues and greeneries and crowd of the people used to make me happier.

I used to walk alone the street, though I was alone, I like to visit alone to observe the things around me, I really enjoyed the supermarket and its crowd .The systematic arrangements of buildings,markets, railway station gave me always new type of inner happiness to travel there .Later I shifted to Bordubi nearby town after Makum which were alike to Duliyajan.Love these places,their impression. One must visit those places and enjoy the scenario.

My Dear

Wet 
Lips 
Like the petals of roses,
Deep eyes 
As if the blue sea 
Catches me …….

Suddenly I get realized 
That your fingers so tiny
Your kicks are so smooth
That wonders me ……

Oh Rani,where have you been
In such long years
Your absence
Made me Lonely…………..

Your smile …..
Your touch
Your breath
Warms my heart
And I get lost
Within you.