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Narinder Bhangu Apr 2016
Life gets its designs
in the sun and shadow,
the death shapelessly
in the dark hole
to the outer world.
Narinder Bhangu Apr 2016
brawl
between two
beggars in tatters
pulling, pushing, dropping, catching,
alms.
Narinder Bhangu Apr 2016
Eastern winds blew
To meet the Western
Again, in the hot season
Thought of their return.
Narinder Bhangu Apr 2016
That night, she would not have slept
When her little babe, in her womb, wept.
Her lap dried and her full ******* sagged
Her nerves pained and blood boiled.
I wondered, wrote nothing, but was perplexed
Were my words bruised, or my pen vexed?
The poem is about girl child foeticide, rampant in most states of India.
Narinder Bhangu Apr 2016
A pair of ducks
was all an attraction,
into my campus, they walked
silently, without any invitation.

A swarm of children
all amazed, light on their feet,
hovered around the guests,
in a hope, to touch and meet.

Steadily, the ducks strolled around,
in a manner befitting a queen,
silently, they left the campus,
never to be seen.

An impulse within me rose,
to travel with the creatures,
to the heaven from where they came
so pious and bountiful
like a mother’s lap,
safe from a hateful world.
Narinder Bhangu Apr 2016
If we won’t meet in this world,
then in my coffin,
after my death,
only your name
I shall carry
to the world next,
on my lips,
as there,
we shall face no blame
for being lovers.
Narinder Bhangu Apr 2016
What is love?
Is it caring and sharing
taking and giving
selflessly pardoning?

Is it living and dying
unquestionably trusting
waiting and missing
blissfully existing?

Is it singing and dancing
crying or sighing
hugging or meeting
then painfully departing?

Is it touching and feeling
forgiving and praying
or simply befriending?
Of course it is.

Its depth is unfathomed
of togetherness
across the worlds
listening to unspoken words
while holding hands.

It is a feeling
that emerges from hearts
as God scatters his
heavenly elixir on the planets.
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