Anil K Prasad and Jyotsana K Prasad

Anil K Prasad:

When, why and how I started writing poems, I do not exactly remember. Most probably, I forgot to record them in black and white, too young to grasp the strange power of imagination - as the birds fly in the sky – wordlessly soar up, give shocking sensations, move away from the sight, disappear, yet linger in the unconscious. How to catch them, to bring them down to a palpable shape that could be be translated and read and possessed. Now I can analyze, rationalize and be able to find the reasons. But for me the reasons are not important. Reasons are an attempt at frustration. For me the vision is important - the vision of reality, the unconscious journey into the fascinating glow of darkness with words as expressive, moving vehicles to reach out, to touch, to feel, to know, to carve, to create… a world without fears; a world wherein I am free and I am fully awake, I can see even after my eyes are closed – no tyrant can torture my feelings, no monster can oppress my voice, no one can rob me of my wealth. I am free, I am selflessly you, I am what I am.

Jyotsana K Prasad:

I write poetry or I should rather say poetry writes me. The observing, the expressive, the singing potential of a person is a medium for the words to come out and connect the concrete with the abstract, the local with the universal the physical with the metaphysical, the earth with the sky. I feel that ideas are important elements in poetry. Most of my poems are ideas couched in emotions and feelings. These ideas are from the reservoir of a culture and tradition. I have often realized that they do not only belong to me, they are of humanity. For example, for me sari is not merely a dress, it is an idea. For me it is the essence of a culture that embraces within it affection, tenderness, beauty, love and demeanor of a woman. I am glad to share these ideas with others with the hope that one day poetry shall bring peace and unite humanity with its harmony. It is a difficult task to define poetry. Nevertheless, in the following lines I have attempted to discover my being as a poet and what poetry is and what poetry means to me.

And I Walk Along And Sing… I saw the sun the moon the stars the sky While walking up and down on the streets. At times I stumbled and was sustained By strange fellow travelers And walked along and sang I saw the sun scorching me from above, I perspired in beads of freshness At times I was strengthened By his strangeness And walked along and sang I saw the moon in lonely nights And wandered in the streets Wrapped in the beauty of her beams At times I was refreshed in the morning By this cathartic dream And I walked along and sang I saw the stars twinkling And they talked to me About their experiences They guided me from their million miles Distance and at times I have been Redirected to the right path And I walk along and sing…. - by Anil K Prasad       Top of the Page. For You You Love and live And leave The land of fetters And dive into The ocean of freedom Every time I am selflessly you: With you I swim The dark sea that swells up Every moment within Our four walls, I have seen his rough tides Prostrating in your presence: Simply because you always choose To be an oar chiseling The direction of our canoe, Our own canoe for hours You kiss my sweat away and my moan You receive with smile and a purse Of pure pearls is handed to us To heal up our sick-shells. Life is a sentence, and you: A joint that breaks to enrich a sentence With meaning and to remove The burden of its ambiguous groan: With you love is always A sincere attempt at Liberation: I always feel beneath the flesh The black soft feathers of A host of cuckoos coming Out of their prison-pores of flesh To sing their song In silence. - by Anil K Prasad       Top of the Page. *A Prayer For Peace “ Einstein's eyes were filled with tears when he heard about Hiroshima. Mr. Tamihi Had no eyes left To show his grief” Expectations are killing The heart that hopes high Lends ears to hearsay And years pass by. Drum's dreams beat With passion, duty walks upright Doing the deeds that fight, Though unheeded by the traffic police Like stray cattle are left To wander in the streets and to sit On the pavements in **Varanasi To chew the cud of abandon And disappear To the wonder of the one In the crowd, craving for order, In the avenues of the accomplished times, “Won the race of discovery” To boast of the achievement Of the race: Humanity's love for inhumanity! If you love to die in the halls of Seclusion, come with me. If you are dying to accomplish The unfinished work, come with me. Come with me, if you want your pulse To beat through its veins, come with me To jostle with the contemporary crowd Come with me, if you wish to sleep The dreams of innocence on the high sea. Wake up and come with me, Jog beside me on the road to anonymity, That leads to the river of retreat, Where you can dive deep into the bliss Of duty, your duty towards your own Countrymen and as the civilians of the world, Come out of your shells, cubicles of self, Come out into the open To see the sun, and the moon and the sky. Come out to see the world of missiles And bring your children too, To see the beauty of the mines, To smell the drowsy fragrance of the powder: Their purpose has been noble And practical and striking. So let your children enjoy The background music. It is enthralling, Though in the background now, Will surface on the shore, The moon will kiss away the salt From their bony holes. Let them come out in a moonlit night To hear the beauty of an outburst, To see the beauty of an explosion, Beautiful swell of a giant Satan's mushroom Children of Nagasaki and Hiroshima still cherish The memory of a holocaust The terrible beauty created by The “Little Boy” and the “Fat Man” “In order to shorten the agony of war”! Allow them To visit the international shrines of peace On a smoggy day, To see the beauty of a lame sun He is waiting, Leaning on the crutch to see The beauty Of man's creation, The beauty Of a blind grenade, Yes blind! But it can kill and blow The bones and split The brain and spill The blood Of God's creation. To feel the pain of a maimed sky after the blast. Come out of your homes (They are not secure). Come out of your homes to see Or even if you are afraid Look through the blinds Of your windows; (Reality can't be hidden). Anyway, if you have a wish To watch a spectacle Come out. Peace is dead. There is no one to bury him. Come out. We have to do our duties. We will give him a safe burial: In the sea, There he will never sing again With the rain, Will never have chance To dance with the mermaids In the deep, There he will never surface Except as a skeleton on the shore: To be isolated by the wild waves As noncommittal break up of bones And nakedness with blind holes Lipless teeth, tightly closed, conceal The absence of a smart tongue A dumb skull, no skill to hide The promising smile from a human face. - by Anil K Prasad * This poem is published on www.poetsagainstthewar.org ** A city in India.       Top of the Page. Your Tears Are The Only Rivers Your tears are the only Rivers left on this earth – Pure, potent, Gracefully floating Pools into which I throw my self And I am restored to life Refreshing grief makes me dream of you O fabulous humanity! I have been dreaming of you, before Your dreams Have been trampled Like a child's home of sand, On the shore of life, Is dismantled By he drifting feet Of the winds of fate. The child can cry But you cannot You have passed that age Or perhaps because The child is dying in you But you can only shed your Tears alone To bathe its body, Before the burial In your soul Before you will doze to dream Your tears are the lonely rivers No pilgrims are seen on their shores Carrying holy water from them After a dip and let the dust cover it Sacredly in a niche, People in their own cabins Are too busy to feel Pride in this journey of generations, They can see the water coming down Like the tears Of their own flesh But theirs are fondled and feared Unlike yours, Ignored and forgotten. You are a street-lamp, Forgotten fast On a journey onward, Fixed on a lonely pole: Giving is calculated As a part of your responsibility, While standing alone In the middle of the street Or stranded on a crossing No one fumbles for a farthing Of feeling to fling on you But when it is dark, They complain of Your absence when they stumble, Complaints are always heard Muttered by the members Of your own caravan, Often beasts are heard Grumbling in your absence. People expect you to stand out But they do not care even for Carrying you in their memories; After they cross the circle Where you were shedding light In darkness, No one could see that, Only they could mind their ways, Only their own ways they could mend! - by Anil K Prasad       Top of the Page.

You wish to know my complete introduction You want to be acquainted with me fully - Who am I and where have I come from? I am a gust of cool breeze That calms the peace-lacked mind on a hot summer day I am water from a vessel of nectar That quenches the thirst of generations I am a small fleck of cloud That becalms the sizzling earth with its drizzle I am a piece of bread more lovely than the moon That satisfies the appetite of the hungry children I am a portion of a patched sari That a mother hides carefully her shyness and affection with I come in every age piercing the time-segment I embrace the generations of the hungry lot And instill hope of life in their consciousness. - by Jyotsana K Prasad       Top of the Page. Portrait Mirror is looking for a face. If someone is liked by mind's eyes He will be reflected in the heart's mirror Creating a glimmer for an instant in the heart And fades away. Alas! The mirror is left sad Lonely and blank Then one day – An image appears in the mirror And is there forever… A sari, rainbow-hued, Printed with multicoloured Flowers and leaves Blushing, settles down into A red wedding-dress Of blessings, And the mirror gets transformed Into a portrait - by Jyotsana K Prasad       Top of the Page. Experiencing God ("Ishwar Darshan") Like free birds, I, in the past, In the wild courtyard of the blue sky Sang to my heart's content Jumped like deer, Jostled like children Harboured the delusion To catch the sun in a bowl of water. Wished to fly over the sea Like *Hanuman Had the courage to keep the sun In my fist Had the pride of ruling the entire earth Like the British Tried to accomplish every difficult task: Emboldened to touch the horizon Had the courage to do the impossible. In my brimming youth Walked intoxicated and intoxicating others Like the spring breeze… But today when gradually I am aging, and the time is changing fast A tyrant's procession of might is coming out With pomp and show In society: Tyrants are worshipped Sages are beaten, *Luxmi is crowned, *Saraswati is in exile, Springs of *somras Are flowing unabated, oppressively People are starving, hungry Children are being sold Young daughters are being auctioned. Now I feel that my youth Was an illusory dream I have surrendered before all the circumstances All the time I live in fear and suspicion Oppressed by the unknown future The plain land seems rough And shudder at the slight rustle if leaves In a day several times I live and die And keep fasting many a day Visit temples, mosques and churches Take offerings to the tombs of saints. I grow old in the shadow of fear And knock at the doors of temple At the slightest doubt I make the altar shake with My scream and screech In distress make my home temple And the temple my home In every misery I call God for protection Then suddenly Overpowered with fear and doubt We are afraid of the blessings of God We are terrified by death We always call God near us What if He will call us near Him! - by Jyotsana K Prasad * In Hindu mythology, one of the incarnations of Rudra, who crossed the sea in his journey to search for Sita, the consort of Lord Rama * The goddess of wealth * The goddess of learning * An intoxicating drink referred to in the Holy texts of Hindus.       Top of the Page. Suffocation ("Ghutan") Fear's relentless death-dance. Fog of foreboding Has enveloped the entire atmosphere Everywhere – crowd, Hustle and bustle Yet, Why is the atmosphere so hushed up? Even there is sadness on the playful lips! As if, tied in the bags of plastics People like peas and tomatoes, Appear fresh from without But are breathless from within For the lack of An open sky - by Jyotsana K Prasad       Top of the Page. Definitions ("Paribhshayen") 1. Mind ("Man") Our mind Gleamed with the glow of prowess Unleashed like youth Enraptured like a calf Maddening like the spring breeze… 2. Hope ("Asha") Our hope is a twinkling star Tearing the sheet of fog Flashing in pitch darkness The flame of a lamp. For faltering steps The stick of support Born of the embryo Of despair: a ray of hope. 3. Contentment ("Santosh") Contentment keeps us unfaltering Like meditating *Bholeshanker Patient-satiated-oars For the dangling boat But also a stumbling-block In the way of one's progress Diminishes natural competition Assassinates ambition. * One of the names of Lord Shiva 4. Wishes ("Ichhayen") Our wishes are our sorrows Destroy our peace Twenty four hours They make us move Like a windmill. But our wishes are the mothers Of our creations Success and progress Cannot be achieved without Wishes and will power. - by Jyotsana K Prasad       Top of the Page. For You ("Apke Khatir") You are busy With your papers On the table Put beside the wall What happened? You are busy with your work Your lips are silent I would come to your room With hot tea, Roasted peanuts And some biscuits Then I would sit beside you By pulling a chair Once or twice I ask you To drink the tea After waiting for an hour I would bring for you Another cup of hot tea - You would take A few sips from the cup And pick up a few Peanuts or biscuits And then quietly I would go out Of your room When you lift up Your eyes planted On your papers I will not be there. What will remain? Half-filled cup of tea Some biscuits and peanuts In the saucer: The glow of sunset And the longing In your nostrils For the fragrance of my soul Which I will leave behind For you - by Jyotsana K Prasad       Top of the Page. A Riddle ("Ek Paheli") Land is wet Amazing! Barren yet! Nectar- vessel always full Sweet affection brimming Making pores all afresh Thorn pricking the heart's flesh This is a riddle Hard to get through Barren land is wet through. - by Jyotsana K Prasad       Top of the Page. Word ("Shabd") A word is a parrot in a cage Loses its old meaning with time's pace An attempt to make out fails The meaning of human Which before embraced Mutual respect, sympathy And a meeting ground For each other's sentiments Now the beast has entered Into the semantic universe Of human changing it totally An attempt to make out fails Not only the meanings of the words But also the rules of rhetoric have changed Now the vehicle is tenor And the tenor is vehicle. Now in homes carrots and radishes Are kept carefully and…. In the bazaar people are butchered As carrots and radishes In the past home Was the place lovely Where people lived together Today it is made A cremation ground In no time. - by Jyotsana K Prasad       Top of the Page.

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