Mr. Agarwal states: I write poetry to satisfy my hunger for aesthetic pleasure. I am lecturer in English at a P.G. College of India, and live in Allahabad, (U.P.), India.
A Sonnet
A civilization is outraged.
The hydra-headed monster
Of terrorism prepares coffins for the innocent.
A six month old's flesh is scarred.
Petrol bombs at Godhara*
Mocking at the concept of human rights.
Where are fundamental rights?
Where is humanism?
Where is secularism?
Where is socialism?
Nowhere, nowhere, nowhere.
Only the naked opportunism of politicians.
Godhara reminding the poet of 11/9. **
But, in India nobody sheds a single tear for the immense loss of life.
Top of the Page.
What is Orchestra?
What is orchestra?
Symphony, he replied.
Mingling of rhythms.
'It may be so,
But I find orchestrated rhythms somewhere else'
'Where?'
'In India'.
India a land of co-existence.
We create synthesis
Out of conflict
Of thesis and antithesis.
No view is final for us.
There is always the scope for further argument.
Religious tolerance is our motto.
If there is Vaishanava cult,
There are Shaiva and Shakta ideologies.*
So, India a perfect example
Of orchestra and symphony,
Of dialectics and tolerance.
Top of the Page.
Cause of Fundamentalism
Why did Godhara*occur?
Why did 11/9** occur?
Who is behind Gujrat carnage***?
Narrowness of mind.
Non-acceptance of the opposite view.
The antithesis is refused.
The other view is discarded.
The followers of the other ideology are exterminated.
Dirty ethnocentrism!
Dirty jingoism!
O my peers, countrymen and religious leaders
Shun the superiority complex.
Take inspiration from the significant other.
The other is not be exterminated.
The other is to heard.
Let the storm of other ideas enter you
As the tempest of new ideas
Was accepted by Buddhism****.
Hinayana was followed
By Mahayana and vajrayana.
Then there will be no Godhara.
Then there will be no 11/9.
Then there will be no Gujrat.
Only the scattered light
Of multi-colored rainbow.
Top of the Page.
On Peeping Through the Upanishads
On peeping through the Upanishads
I find my discourse sans extravagance of black
boredom,
Bathing in the Vedantic Brahma,
Pure as the Om,
Free from frost, fire and fun of flesh.
I lose consciousness of I.
Aham Brahmasmi.
I am you.
I am she.
Bereft of dualism, no desire of revenge.
For I see my image in my enemy cruel.
No thought of opposite sex,
As she is nothing but myself.
Top of the Page.
Tempest Of Passion
Nasdaq index has dipped.
The body temperature has risen.
Imbalance between Celsius and Fahrenheit has generated
the heat.
My soul is anaemic
With the fury of sex.
My mind meditating on female body
My whole endeavour to influence the fair sex
My heart pining
To be the peer of nudity
Nasdaq index has dipped.
No sign of bullish trend.
Only the howling cries of bears.
Hey, Bulls come and oust this bear
Invading the stock-exchange of the soul.
Union Carbide pollutes the nature.
Pangs of womanhood make me totter.
Deforestation creating ecological imbalance
Her tender skin and ravishing beauty make me lose my
patience.
My mind doomed to a certain death
My soul not hearing the song celestial
My voice unable to pray
My breathing system disturbed.
O Bosnian Serbs! do not cleanse the Muslim populace
Rather, come to this territory of my heart
And indulge in the act of purgation.
O Serbs, come immediately
Else my Divinity
Will find it difficult to face my passion.
Top of the Page.
To Lord Krishna
O Lord of perpetual light
Consume the furious inferno of this muddy pool.
Create eternal rainbows in this devitalized landscape.
Be an honourable guest in this sick heart,
Where nothing but the passions of blood visit.
O patron saint, cleanse this voracious pike
With thy hand divine.
Make me aware of the spiritual occultism
With thine song celestial, O Charioteer.
Thence, my heart overladen with eternal springs
And with green grass and cherry orchards
Will sing a joyous song
At the triumph of Lord Krishna,
Whose radiant chariot burnt in darting glory.
On this very burnished chariot
Gave the elegant flute recital
The Sermon of Karma Yoga.
O Praise thee O Gopala
For thy eternal message of Karma
Saves countless ignorant humanity
From taking an unholy dip
In the slough of passion and fruits.
Thence free from the fruits of action
Enjoy I eternal bliss in the scheme divine.
Nights of storm and days of mist
Trouble me not.
Rather an ecstatic trance-like vision
Affects me with my Lord's blessings.
Remembering thy early life with your childhood mates,
Thy pinning for the butter of the fellow villagers,
Thy fascinating flute recital,
Which entranced the hearts of the Gopis
And thy never perishable imprint
On the heart of Brij-dwellers,
I lose smell of my flesh and music of senses.
Rather, I become conscious of my spiritual well-being.
Therefore, O my fellow-men,
Come, rise, clasp thy hands and sing in His glory.
Thence thou too will be roused out of spiritual stupor
And the truer light of heaven
Will burn in your blighted hearts.
And thou will be saved
From the terrible wheel of birth, rebirth and birth.
So, come, rise, clasp thy hands and sing in His glory
Revealed through his song celestial-The Gita
Top of the Page.
* Godhara is a place in Gujrat, India. During the early half of 2002,a severe tragedy occurred there. Petrol bombs (i.e. burning bottles full of petrol) were thrown at a train, killing a number of hapless people.
** September 11, 2001 terrorist attack on the United States.
***In the wake of Gudhara massace, there was a frenzy of violence in Gujrat.
****Buddhism has three sects- Hinyana, Mahayana and Vajrayana.
(Printed with permission; Copyright 2002 - All Rights Reserved by Nilanshu Kumar Agarwal - No reproduction without express permission from the author)
Letter to the Author: Nilanshu Kumar Agarwal
at nilanshu1973@yahoo.com