Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2020 · 121
Hold on
Puspanjali Sahu Jul 2020
Hold on your thoughts
to go
before time

Because
you want it or not
this time will go

Please wait
Hold on your thoughts
to go

Let the time come
even if the happy you
inside you
don't want
and plead to stay
you have to go

So, please
hold on
hold on....for now
Suicide is a crime
If we can hold ourself through the difficult time we can make our and others life better
Sep 2018 · 384
My umbrella and me
Puspanjali Sahu Sep 2018
My umbrella asked me once
why I need her
only when it rains?

Do I love her
or hate the rain?

I couldn't  say her
neither I love her
nor I hate the rain

and the day
my soul could
gather the courage to
walk in the rain
without her

naked love don't need to
suffer again.
I love the rain, perhaps everyone does. Yet we carry umbrellas. I guess we don't need to protect our self from rain, rather we need to protect our expensive belongings. Whether these belongings are restricting us to feel life?  Do we really need these belongings....artificial things and artificial behavior or artificial us?
Jul 2018 · 217
Believe
Puspanjali Sahu Jul 2018
I am going to believe
more in me
than you

because
each time belief breaks
let it put all blame
on me,
not on you.
Often, we blame others for our failures.  But if we can accept ourself as writer of our own faith, then we can walk on failures.
Jun 2018 · 199
Time
Puspanjali Sahu Jun 2018
I don't have time
perhaps you also don't have
to do things
our hearts love
once upon a time  

walk through a forest
and breathe the green wind
touch the flowers,
blossomed last spring
soft and kind  

Believe me,
I don't have time
to do such things
because now
my heart belongs to my mind  

But don't know how
whenever there is a fight
between heart and mind,
heart owns every time
Mar 2018 · 212
Women's day
Puspanjali Sahu Mar 2018
I know
you had circled today's date
with a dark red chalk
Perhaps, you are  saving bucks
for months
to take her to Paris or Rome  

But let me tell you
she just needs a beautiful home
made up of your smiles
and painted by your soul.
Dec 2017 · 272
Birds and the sky
Puspanjali Sahu Dec 2017
Traveled for months
to reach at the coast
though I know
rest in not something
my wings could love for long,

Because
sky is the place
I belong
Jun 2017 · 381
Depression
Puspanjali Sahu Jun 2017
It does not matter
You love or not
you can't stop
changes to change you
because time never seeks
your permission
to pass on  

You know this truth
and so do I
But both you and I
have to learn
to smile at the time
passing by or already passed
to avoid
the ugliest reflection of our face
in the mirror
that both U and I know as
“Depression”
Puspanjali Sahu May 2017
Men,
who live on dried fishes  
never realise  
they stink  
not because of the fishes  
but because  
they have dried the fishes  
to such an extent  
where no water remains  
on which  
fishes were living on
Often we are creator of our problems but hardly realize
Feb 2017 · 295
What ? You follow
Puspanjali Sahu Feb 2017
My Mamma told me
to follow traditions
without a condition

But what should I do
when
tradition left
humanity abadoned?
Whether traditions need to be followed if it is associated with brutal activity?
Jan 2017 · 719
Where do you come from?
Puspanjali Sahu Jan 2017
Dry hair
Dry skin
Hopes are dead
and their dead bodies are also dried

I wish God should come down now
and save your watery smile
before it shrinks
and vanishes
somewhere in our dry sleepy minds  

But why
whenever my eyes see you
either you are alone
or in the arms of
not a mother like mother
I wonder
whether hunger had murdered
love of a mother  

I wonder
whether you come to this world
without a father  

Or somewhere  
watery eyes of your mother
wet heart of your father
are still waiting
and praying for your comeback
without knowing
a dry YOU
is dying without water
We come across children living in miserable conditions near railway stations, temples, in markets, near bus stops etc. Often we found them alone or with pitiable ladies whom we assume as their mothers but never with their fathers. Why? Is it because a mother can gain more sympathy than a father or these children are the result of momentary attraction/torture?
But how could a mother let her child to live in such a pity or is it a modern way of begging? Sometimes it could happen that parents lost their children and their lost children were seen as used for better begging.
Is our ignorance responsible for this?
Dec 2016 · 9.0k
Menstruation
Puspanjali Sahu Dec 2016
When my imaginations
started stripping in front of me
and I saw  
its naked body,
I realized  
stains of blood
on my white beautiful cloth

and I cried a lot  

Do not know why  
Maybe I was afraid of  the pain
that will return to me
in every month
or fingers, eyes  
that will point out on me
if I could not hide bright red stains
on my cloth  

But I was not knowing
those drops of blood
will grow into
bones and muscles
tiny eyes, hands and fingers
and the most beautiful smile  

Those are the brave drops of blood
that could make me  
a “Mother”  
before which
neither pain nor fear
matters
Periods are normal for every female. Sometimes it is abnormal because it comes with irritability and mood changes and these problems are severe in approx. 3-8% women. But when we talk about it, we never discuss problems and ways to solve it. We find them icky.
Because of this type of mindset of the society, when a girl is in her period, even though she suffer from a lot of body pain, she prefers to keep silence. This also makes girls to hate and feel shameful about their periods....even though periods are the signature of their ability to create a life...to become a mother.

Word help: When my imaginations started stripping in front of me - childhood is considered as a period of innocence imagination and this phrase indicated entry of girl into puberty phase.
those drops of blood will grow into bones and muscles: the birth of a child
Dec 2016 · 396
Waiting
Puspanjali Sahu Dec 2016
The day
I will stand in front of you
in my baby suit
and you will take my lips
into yours

The day each part of my body
will feel your quivering fingers
and whispers of your breath
will be the only thing
I could hear

Believe me
that day
time will stop
and bow before
our love

But to be in that day
I wish
time should fly now
We know time never stpos...yet sometime ...may be when we are living in our happiest moments... we want time to stop....and sometimes ....when we are waiting for smiling moments....we want time to fly
Nov 2016 · 882
My baby teeth
Puspanjali Sahu Nov 2016
When you came in
my life
I cried
The ache in my gums
made me search ways
to pull you out
and throw away

But when I started losing you
slowly
one by one
Again, I cried
I thought I lost something,
I needed most

Now the holes you left behind
were filled with stronger bones,
and nobody knows
whether having you
has its pros and cons

But sometimes past
of me with you
pierced into my present

and made me realize

You were there
to give me
softest laugh of my life,
memories of which
can make me smile
till I die
Baby teeth are something that will come in our life but will not stay. They are the sweet memories of our life…like school days, college days, bunking classes, night out with friends or sometimes chatting over stupid things for long hours.
As we move on in life, sometimes we think baby teeth were not needed. Why they came in our life. But look into pics of those not so wisely spend days with friends. I am sure, you will smile and happily miss those days
Hope you understand now why you had baby teeth, when you had to lose them.
Your smile will never look that good with strong teeth as those are with your baby teeth
Puspanjali Sahu Nov 2016
You asked me
not to change
and believe me
I have tried hard
to keep your words

But in front of me
everything has changed
An ice-cold coffee turned into a smoky tea
Dead trees came out of the coffins
with wide smiles and colored costumes
as if they are going to marry
again
and those little children
who loved to dance
in the seashore
naked
are kept themselves
under cover

I looked at you
and your quiet smile told me
things will not remain the same
as summer passed
and winter came

But why I feel
something within you and me
will not change ?
But to discover
what is that

we have to walk on
the road of change
Change is the unchangeable law of nature and to survive, we have to adopt changes. But somethings within our self may or may not change...the way we smile, the way we talk, the way we behave, the way we feel
and those are the things that could define us
Let yourself go through changes and after that if you can find something within yourself, that has not changed...that is your definition
Nov 2016 · 658
Your own blck cat
Puspanjali Sahu Nov 2016
You may not have noticed
but cats are everywhere
But why only black cats
make you scared ?

Her footsteps are silent enough
to go unnoticed
Her reflection is not something
that you termed
attractive

yet
you stopped
every time
or take few steps back
when she crosses your path

Did you see a ghost,
with a scary smile

or
when she turns her face
towards you
through her golden eye
what you have seen
is
a reflection of yours
which lies
beneath your skin
Oct 2016 · 388
Lions and their hunters
Puspanjali Sahu Oct 2016
Before few days
may be the day before yesterday
a lion was killed
and
how its trembling roar
ended in a growl
before he touched his death,
you and I read in the newspaper
is all written by
the hunter

Today
another lion was killed
and story of his tragic death
was again
in the front page of all newspapers

Wait a minute
Somewhere,
I saw the lion’s picture
May be...
No, I am sure
He was on the front page of
the day before yesterday’s newspaper

But he narrated the story

Today's lion was
yesterday’s hunter
To survive in this world, to be successful you have to **** others. If you can not ****, if you can not be a hunter, then be ready for your death...be ready to be a dead lion.  Many people say this
But I don't understand....are we really that miserable ....can’t we live a life in our terms with a smile, without killing others
Puspanjali Sahu Oct 2016
On every night
he comes to you
and nothing could stop him
neither your sins
nor his virtues

He knows
that only you knows
how to control
his restless lips, hands, skin
and mind
How to ignite his emotions;
cold and abandoned

Though you are
made of the same blood, bones
tears and sweats:
as his
as rest of the universe,
Its you
only with you
pain synonyms pleasure
Sometimes you are like
a soft blinking star,
sometimes like
tender notes of a
wild guitar
You are the deep ocean
death couldn’t discover
For him
you are not just a woman
as you think of yourself,
you are a metaphor

So,
do not mistake his words
when in daylight
he called you a *****
It is not what he feels
It is his segregated anger
of repeated failures
to hold you
when you moves like
reeds in the river

He may not know
you are a feeling
not a lost body
and
tried to discover

But today
He gathered all his courage
and came to your doorsteps
in bright daylight

Let him take help of rituals, customs
or whatever he wants
But please,
give him soil of your land

And let him
replicate you
through his imaginations

Let him
praise you
admire you

Let him
love you

Let him
worship you

Let him
touch you with his heart

Let him
know his desires
Indian customs are sometimes strange. There is a belief (especially in North Kolkata) that goddess Durga's idol made during Durga Puja is incomplete without the soil from the house of a *** worker. The priest or the artist should beg for the soil and receive it from a *******’s hand as a blessing.  
No one knows the exact reason. Some say  this custom is to include people who are outcasts during an important festival, some says soil from the *******’s land is the purest because it beholds the virtue of those who visited the *******'s place.
May be Male dominated society of India created the custom to appreciate women’s body and all the women who knew what it means to have a woman’s body.
Oct 2016 · 386
Vibhishana
Puspanjali Sahu Oct 2016
Serenity was everywhere
after that night
Calmness  declared its
existence for infinity
All eyes were wide open
as if they are seeing
immortality,
or a ray of light
brisk bright

But I knew,
an intense darkness will be there
waiting only for me
in my vanity
What I lost
will not be reflected
anytime anywhere
in your minds
or on the pages of history
Rather
I will be ill-famed
in my own land
in my country

But somewhere
I had a feeling
that I could
bring back your smiles
Smiles,
for an eternity
And
it does not matter
whether future will see
your smiles
as history
Vibhishana - younger brother of the demon king Ravana is the only one in Ramayana who stood against his family’s misdeed.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vibhishana
Though Vibhishana is considered as an enemy of his own family,  It is because of his effort people of Lanka live a peaceful life afterwards.
It's time to follow Vibhishana’s footsteps.  You could not avoid loving your relations, neither your country but you stood stand against all of them if you feel their doings are bad for society

(after that night-after death of Ravana
what I lost-death of family members
Whether future will see your smiles as history-peaceful periods never get historical importance)
Sep 2016 · 733
The boy who lit the fire
Puspanjali Sahu Sep 2016
You know
and I also know
it is not fair
to allow brave breaths to die
and fall silently on the ground,
to allow insane thoughts
to flame the air  

But when the little boy
was lighting the fire
in between your and my house
you didn’t stop him
neither did I  

So we have to go through the pain
of seeing our beautiful houses
made out of soft colourful love
surrendered before the fire  

Now we have no options
but to stand with burnt ashes of our heart
in our hands
and nothing remains
that can be termed as desire

Though our minds knows
nothing can heal the pain
our heart felt,
one thing is needed
and only one thing is required
a more volcanic fire  

A war  

But where is the boy who lit the fire?
Sometimes we think war is the only way that could bring peace back …but a war always ends with a feeling of revenge in hearts of innocent people and opens the doors for another war…
May be we need to find the boy and **** him who set the fire or we have to stop him before he could set another fire. In spite of fighting against each other, fighting against terrorism at the beginning stage, when he was a little boy  may be the only way to a peaceful world.
Sep 2016 · 288
Life in grey
Puspanjali Sahu Sep 2016
You paid him
for something that you could like
He gave you
the thing
that he loves  
most  


I don’t know
and I am sure he doesn’t know
what it means
when you say
you gave your everything
to someone or something
and now living in grey ?


What he knows
his sweats need devotion  
his emotions need attention
Movements of his blood and his fingers
need aggression
and he have to keep his days and nights  
his sleeps and dreams
in hibernation
to pour his everything
into something
through your imaginations  


And when he gave you
your something
and his everything
he could walk away
with a smile of satisfaction  


Because what you saw and believed as grey
He knew
that was burnished green
covered with cold clouds
little white
little grey
Although an artist always knows, statues he made will be immersed in water after few days of noise or will be kept somewhere unnoticed, ignored,  he always put his life in his creations. Life is not different from art. Even if you know you are going to die, you cannot stop living.
Of course life will shows you hard time (little white, little grey) but don’t mistake green (liveliness, happiness) with grey. Sometime a layer of sadness (cold clouds) could made bright green to appear grey.
Puspanjali Sahu Aug 2016
You killed the girl
the girl with wet lips and watery smile
the girl with soft skin and magical touch
the girl whose veins are filled with emotions
not with blood
and you knew deep inside your heart
she is much more than your imagination  
when you described her
as a veered sensation  

You killed her again and again
sometimes with your hands
sometimes with your words
sometimes with your negligence
and sometimes with your confusions  

But the day she told me
she decided to **** you
I went to her house
with her favourite chocolate wine cake
to celebrate your death  

But she was not there
neither her smiles or sorrows
I opened the note
perhaps left for me  

and realised

The girl
who survived through thousand murders
couldn’t save her this time
because this time
it was not a ******
It was a suicide
A trial to express a complicated feeling. Sometimes we get hurt or cheated by friends or family members and do something bad to return the hurt we received but our action not always bring happiness for us.

Because feeling of guilt (of doing something wrong) is much more worse than feeling of being hurt. So revenge is no always a solution
Aug 2016 · 717
A coloured thread
Puspanjali Sahu Aug 2016
You and I,
who never believed
ghosts existed
neither angles
in our childhood  

You and I,
who never believed
a star will fall from the sky
on the other side of the horizon
and make our beautiful imaginations  
come true,
even in our dreams  

You and I,
who carries practicality
in our pockets and
categorized ourselves
according to weight of our wallets  

could never understand  

why a girl
at her 5, 25 or even at 70    
a girl
at her  highest level of maturity
search madly
in each corner of the city
for a particular coloured thread
from thousands and thousands    

and I hardly understand
how she decides
what will look best
on her brother's wrist  

The boy who is still struggling
to take care of his hairs or wardrobe
from where he gains
the courage
to say a girl
don’t worry
for anything
I am here
and wherever you need
I will be there    

You and I
could never understand
why a mature girl’s smile  
seems childish
and why a childish boy’s  smile
seems filled with responsibilities  

when she ties the coloured thread
on his wrist
Raksha bandhan is a ritual followed by Indians in which a sister ties a coloured thread, called raksha around her brother's wrist and brother promises to be with her when she needs. He promises to give her everything and protect her from every bad situations

Rituals in anywhere in the world are loaded with emotions but pressure of busy life forcing us to be emotionless (up to certain extent
Aug 2016 · 379
Smiling death of raindrops
Puspanjali Sahu Aug 2016
When it rains
raindrops smoothly pat
on my windows
and slide down
to death  

I don’t think
the drops care
how long they can walk
before they vanish

They perhaps know
the moment they are in
and the moment standing
in front of them
should be cherished
We may lose our present if we indulge ourselves too much in past faults or future failures... Let's live in present with a smile
Aug 2016 · 555
Girl...You need to be fair
Puspanjali Sahu Aug 2016
I know
and you also know
the girl
the fair little girl
who was sitting in the back bench
had thrown your confidence
into a scroll
even if
your mother told you
thousand times
you are
her beautiful doll

But the day
you learned to
walk on the street
with heels on
and your dark eyes
got the ability
to throw
the darker smoke around you
into the sky

that day

you showed
and I learned
being fair
is no more require
to set the world
in fire

But one day
surely one day
a darkness, darker than night
will stand before you
and that day
to cross that darkness
and feel the light again
you need to be fair

and remember
your fairness is the only thing
you should care
Your skin complexion may not need to be fair to live a good life but your decisions, your judgements need to be fair
Jul 2016 · 585
Never been there
Puspanjali Sahu Jul 2016
For me,
love was
my favourite
pale yellow chiffon dress
or may be
my light brown hemp neck less

Brightness of diamonds
placed closely on my fingers
Or darkness of black lines
around my eyes

Love,
may be smiling, giggling or crying over long phonecalls
Or spending hours and hours
and someone’s savings
in a overcrowded mall

Tell me.
how could I realize love can be
more than my imagination,
and your life

It could be choosing
sleepless nights in dark forests
filled with pointed stones
when chances to throw your body
over a cushy bed
in a warm room
is still on

How could I know
how it feels
to take a bullet
directly on your chest
only to
protect the soil on which you were born?

And we, whom you left
in our five star rooms
to sleep peacefully
watch movies with bowls of popcorns
will never understand
what you did for us
even though
we are not related with relations


Today
When I saw you
sleeping peacefully
in the arms of tricolour
and 21-gun salute
could not touch your ear
Today when
thousands of bodies like me
with tear filled heart
raised their hand

I realized
my heart can never love the way
your heart does
and
your soul can never be touched
with my prayers

because

I have never been there
A trial to express the unconditional love every soldier feel for their country.....A tribute to Indian soldiers and and soldiers of any other country, sacrificed their lives for their nation

We can try to feel but I am sure we can never feel what a soldier feel for their nation because we were never in that situation..we have never been there
Jul 2016 · 728
The Sun and I
Puspanjali Sahu Jul 2016
Dear Sun,
If I have to believe on
my school books
or scientifically proven
expert mind opinions

You
are a white sphere,
an anarchic system,
composed of hot, destructive plasmons
and your rays
have the power
to turn my skin and bones
into a lump of grey ash
no matter how far from you
I stand on

Every morning
when your light yellow rays
softly touch me,
a smile spreads on my soul
and
the yellow, orange and magenta shades
you left in front of the darkness
made me to feel,
You are beautiful
though
my mind knows
You are nothing
but a colourless or white burning ball

You don't care me
neither I do
But there is something
unseen between I and you,
demolishes itself each minutes, each seconds
holds your angers
and scatters them into beautiful colours
and
made me to love each time
I see you

But I wonder
Why I failed and am failing
to honour, appreciate and praise
love of the unseen one
and his/her sacrificial care?
Between the sun and you, there exists an environment which makes sun-light beneficial for us. We never care but we should care for the environment. Its high time.

We also hold solar system within us. Sometimes our minds, our hearts behave as sun, full of energy, full of emotions that can make us do anything, cross any boundary but people who love us holds our hands tights and give us right direction.

So if you get a chance to appreciate your friends, family members do that and be there when they need you…you may not get a second chance to say thank you.
Jul 2016 · 1.1k
High heels
Puspanjali Sahu Jul 2016
My fourteen years old daughter
loves her high heels
may be
more than her mother

Keeping my hands in hers
she told me once
‘’Mom
Please make yourself comfortable
with high heels
Every time you will wear heels
yours knees may buckle
your steps may shiver
But once you will make into the high heeled world
your self confidence
will never crumble”

I wish
I could remove her heels
tie her shoe less tight
and make her to walk
on that road
filled with stones of inhibitions
and slippery sands of prohibitions
because i know
that road
and only that road
leads to
top of the world
where high heels
will be no more needed

But what if
she asks
where are my shoes ?
Do not be a mother who only love and care her children and says her again and again what she needs to do, what will be right for her...rather stand as an example before your child
applicable to fathers also :-)
Jul 2016 · 361
Death and defeat
Puspanjali Sahu Jul 2016
Hiroshima was destroyed
by the infuriation
of the 'Little Boy'
By extraordinarily intelligent
3 pound brains
and by few well trained
subservient hands

When you were
sitting in your arm chair
and thinking
of
colouring your grey hairs,
each part of a city
a colourful, beautiful city
was burning helplessly
and
what remained was
powder of burnt
innocent eyes, veins, bones
and humanity
in the air

Radiance of morning sun
was no more bright
Nothing was left,
that could be termed as red, pink, blue
or white

Ask
open eyes of the dead bodies.
those were not turned into ash
they might have seen
struggle of sun rays
to cross the air above
them
dark and black

But in that acute darkness,
where even dreams were
not able to
cultivate hope,
each dead body protects
a small bright area
may be a tiny spot
from the radiations
under them

and those were the areas
where
camellias popped up
in that spring
again
We are leading a modern free life above the feeling of colour, race, religion and superstitions because few people in the past sacrificed their life.
If you feel and believe that things in your surrounding will make the world sink into darkness, you should give a trial to change them. Before that be ready and throw out all your inhabitations, limitations and invalid imaginations from your pocket
Because you may die, but you can save some brightness below you dead body, radiance of which can make the whole world shine again
Puspanjali Sahu Jun 2016
I knew
your body will tremble
little
may be more than little
but I was sure
you will never crumble  

Thats why
I tried to hold you tight
more than tight
I knew
I made crossing me hard for you
which in your imagination
was light  

But believe me
I was not trying to  make you suffer
For me
it was not a pleasure

I was trying hard
to measure
each part of your body
your height, your width
Strength of your mind
and softness of your heart
Depth of your eyes
and sharpness of your nails
even
curvature of your curls  

Because,
if someday
you will walk back
into the past
searching for yourself
  
On that day
I want you to see me  
standing on that road
carrying reflection of your true,
weak yet strong self
on my soul
Everyone thinks why struggle come in life....and why only in their life
But struggle made you realize who you are...how much strong you are to handle difficult situations
If a cycle crosses only plain roads, it will never know how its tires looks like....but if cross a muddy road..may be it has to go through difficulties...but at least it will know ...how its tires look like
So feel your struggle
Puspanjali Sahu Jun 2016
I saw a little girl
come near to her window
and see the raindrops falling
so intensely
as if
with the rain drops
her feeling are slipping away  

Each time
I think
this time
surely this time
she will  open the doors
and come out
will lift her arms
into the sky
and made her inhibitions
fall down    

This time
surely this time
she will strip out
her feelings
forget
all those things
you termed
as regrets  
and let her soul
lie down    

This time
surely this time
she will open her mind
close her eyes
will keep her senses unfold
but will not try to hold  
Rather will allow
each drop of rain
glide through her veins    

But  this time
this time also
hesitations grips her feet
and she tried to touch
warmth of dripping raindrops
from the other side of the window
with her fingertips    

I looked into her eyes
and felt
if I look little longer
she will cry
I wonder why?    

One sunny afternoon
when she was out
with her rosy pink smirk
and obligatory look  
I asked her
what keeps her live in secret pain
Does not she love rain?  

With fluttering voice
she replied
Yes  
I
I also
love rain
But I could love rain
only from my windows side
because I love my rain boots
more than I love rain  

And  I afraid
If I walk in rain
rain will distilled my vein
but my rain boot
will be filled with pain  

I wish
I could hold her hands tight
and give her  
all my strength
to fight
heavy prohibitions
unconstrained dedication
and painful oppositions
that will come on her way
which she thinks
will be like sunny days
warm and bright    

I wish I could say
on her face
rain can and will cover suddenly
a sunny bright dry sky  
and  
on that day
your rain filled boot
will not walk with you

So,
don’t try hard
to drag them
with your emotions
Don’t let your feelings
sink helplessly
in the sea of depression  

Rather put your rain boots off
Let your naked feet feel
the coldness of the refreshing  flowing water of rain  

and
start loving your rain like life  
again
Few people try hold their past incidents, feeling/relations forcefully in spite of knowing they can not make everything work. This poem is to tell all of you
Don't made your present suffer holding your past tigh
Jun 2016 · 794
Santa Claus
Puspanjali Sahu Jun 2016
An old man
An old rich man
An old rich lonely man
with his
big belly
half curly, well maintained  
but anomic white hairs
and long grey beard
walks on the busy yet lonely
street of  
New York
every evening
aimlessly
hopelessly and  
creating a kind of roughness
inside his heart,  on his face
and in the atmosphere  
unknowingly  


A little girl
with her favourite balloons
In her little tiny hands
and smile of satisfaction
in her eyes
walks on the same road
every evening
Greets every moving and non-moving objects
come on her way
with the most soft brisk  
‘’Hi’’
With a hope that
before the night turns too dark
Her colourful balloons
someone will buy  

But a wandering silence
covers her face
when she meets the old man
The old rich lonely man  


Sometimes, once in a while
a feeling, a wish
also breaks the walls
made of desolation and devastation
and enters into the closed heart of  
the man
the old rich lonely man
that
If he had a daughter
his life would have colours
just like the balloons

His dreams would have a purpose
and
his breaths would have a cause  


One day
the man
the old rich lonely man
tried hard  
gathered all his courage
and smiled at the little girl  

The girl’s smile
take a pause
But the very next moment
she jumped into the hands of
the man
and said
I was thinking
I know you
I saw you  somewhere
Now I got
You are  
The same Santa Claus
My Santa Claus    
Who came last year
and brought me
a pink frock
that I love to wear

And
after that
I never saw
the old man
the old rich but may not be lonely man
walking on the street of New York
searching for a cause
A big belly, grey beard does not make you Santa Claus..You need to have a wide smile, open heart to give and receive happiness
I saw many couples praying with teary eyes for a child to love
and saw many children praying hard to get parents to be loved and wonder what restricts us to open our hands and accept them
Is your DNA need to be matched to love someone?
Jun 2016 · 574
Inheritance
Puspanjali Sahu Jun 2016
Remember those days
Remember those moments
Sometimes with love
Sometimes with fake anger
Sometimes with a expression of begging
and sometimes with an attitude of praying

You asked me
to learn
to make rotis
round roties
round like the earth or may be like the universe  

Dear Maa,
each time  
I avoided your words
Neglected your quests
Ignored your feelings
Shattered your expectations  
I thought I was crossing your imagination
that somewhere prisoned
with relations  

I thought  Roties can be made easily
They are combination of flour and water
I only need to be right about proportion  

But why didn’t you tell me
Round roties require much more than my prediction
They need balanced emotions
Heartfelt validation
Justified devotion
to each and every relation  
Now  
As I started
wearing  your age,
it comes to my realization
round rotis  
may take everything you earned
your sleep, your dream  your successful imagination,
even little strength left in your bones  

But
what they return
is
a smiling satisfaction
When your mother  teaches you little things, may be preparing a meal, she inserts confidence, creativity inside you. When she made you to prepare meals for others she enriches you with feeling. you learned to love. When you allow yourself to serve a meal to your family members or friends you learned to care.  
And when you received all these feeling as your inheritance I doubt  Is there anything in this world that can irritate you…work load, failure in achieving professional goals, politics in your work place. Is there really anything?
I wish I should have learned make a rotis.

n.b. Maa is the hindi term to address mother. Roti is a indian food and used as a symbol for each small things you learn at home
May 2016 · 513
Mermaid
Puspanjali Sahu May 2016
It was and is
not easy for me
I beg don’t make it harder  

You will not understand
and I can’t make you to feel  
how it feels
when your body can’t hold your heart

How it feels
when you know in your veins
what you feel
but barricade between your body and mind
will not let you
feel your feelings  

How it feels
when the world address you  
Dude
and you afraid
the girl  you are trying hard
to coffined in your heart
will show up  

I wish I could show you
my pain filled abortive trials
to push hard  
even the tiniest bulging meat on my body
deep inside into my skeleton  

I wish I could show you
Pain of pretension
  
Pretension of walking straight
Pretension of speaking loud
Pretension of being brave
at the time of drooping in fear
that you will be identified
and termed as a queer  

I wish I could make you realize
helplessness of being a public secret
anguish of dying out of respect
and living in agony
because your body  
is not answerable to anatomy  

When you all wanna prove your identity
I am begging you
please let mine go

because
my identity
can not be identified
by the tiny part between my legs  
Please tell me  
how long I need to beg  

to find the place
where my body will not be dissected
to discover
my hearts gender
  
Please tell me
how long......?
Is life is all about define our gender ? Is to so necessary to belong to a particular sexuality-either men or women. Why we can't  think beyond this to give ourself and others, whom we define as transgenders a better life ?
Before asking someone
are u gay, a lesbian or a transgender
just ask what a person want to do with his life
or what just what he loves to eat ?
which game he loves to play
etc...etc....
Please realize sometimes our words, our expression affects others deeply. After all we all are part of the picture pale blue dot
Puspanjali Sahu May 2016
Unremitting tears in dry eyes
and halted flow of blood in nerves
What lies just behind my pectus
is a heart
or a muscle
filled with
igneous unwanted emotions  

Let’s just hold our breathe
for a moment
and see
moments of eternal attachments
are becoming breathless
with our detest  

Is it really necessary
to search answers for all the unsolved questions
and find reasons for all the incidents/accidents
and bruise
equanimity of sun soaked day
calm attraction of loneliness

Is it really necessary
to drag
all dead souls from their graves
and **** them again  

I know
restricted sensations are
hitting  my heart
to be expressed
to be showed
to be felt and filled  

But is it really necessary
to plead for the need
to rest and cry over your chest
to face the silence
that will come after your departure  

Silence has its own words
Darkness has its own color
How does it matter
whether all the squatters
know this or not  

Its enough for me
If I could let you know
I and mightiness of my feeling
started with you  
and will end with you
Busy life     busy days     busy nights
What we gain in between is little time that used to get wasted with unnecessary expression of anger, hate and unsatisfaction for what we expected to get and could not get
and what we thought to say....remain unexpressed

(A dedication to great romantic poet  Pablo Neruda. Initially I thought why most of the poets write about love but his poems made me realize you don't need to write about a lot of things/problems if you made yourself feel the universe and you know how it is created
attraction...science also says this)
Puspanjali Sahu May 2016
You told me
not to take the red road
It still carries
stain of blood of Jesus  

But I took the road
Helplessness of billion eyes
is still there
with marks of blood
on their soul    

Asked the road
Is there anything
I could do
to erase these marks?  
With disabled hope
and grief stricken trust
the road replied  

If possible
please go  
and bring little hope
filled with love  

Because
colour of blood
cannot be washed
with any other colour
except colour of rose    

You told me not to take the blue road
Dead bodies of the unfaithful fate
the Trojan horse left
is still there  

But I took the road

Screaming of the choked throats  
is still in the air
Spring seems poisoned
with dark blue marks  

Asked the road
Is there anything
I could do
to erase these marks?  

The road replied
If possible bring little blueness
from the sun-licked sky
Because broken faith
can be weaved only and with only
threads of hearts
those are made to rely        

So I am running  here and there
with dying breath
to find the place
where once  
the deep blue sky shadowed me
from cruel sunrays
And I walked miles and miles
without slightest pain
on my feet
because what covered the road
was petals of rose
bright and soft  

Whether anyone can tell me
Where I should go
to find the place?
Because here
sky is tore
and earth is cracked  

Now I am standing
lonely
silently
helplessly
but cannot leave my little hope  
because somewhere lies the feeling
If I dig
deep inside your heart
I will find
what is lost and
what needed for me  


Lots of faith
and  little love
  
Again
(Same colour can arise different feelings….it depends what we want to see…red rose or blood,,,..It completely depend on us how we behave   If something happened that breaks us down we left with three options …..blame, complain and hurt the one whom we think responsible for (he/she may not be) ……move and find a safe shelter and live with only the feeling of living ……face the situation and do what you could do so that nobody has to feel the same pain that you went through   Choice is yours….a riot against a riot…a war against a war…or a peaceful lovely world)
Puspanjali Sahu May 2016
May be we can leave this place
and go to mars
right now
at this moment
But do not forget
our feet is still on the earth
where he lives
  
He
whose day is still measured
by the brightness of sun
and he never felt
he has a mind to think
or a heart to feel
All what he learned
is to work and work
under the shining sun
and in night storms  

He does not understand
what you need to live
and can not imagine
your assets price
What he knows and
what he aims
is only a full plate of rice  

So don’t go to him
and complain
You wanted chicken
and somebody fed you beef  

Don’t go and tell him
name of brands of your drink
and percentage of alcohol  
they carries
Because you can't count
for a drop of water
how many innocent dreams
were buried  

Don’t go to him
and tell
he should pray in a temple
or lit a candle
before Jesus
Because  
with the burden of
filling many empty stomachs
he can be worried
but can not be nervous  

Don’t go and compel him
to stand before you
or oppose you
because you feel
he needs to speak
  
You don’t know
words started losing their meaning
before him
from the day
he stopped thinking
about the furious wolfs
and started walking in the dark    

May be somewhere
inside his mind
he knows
the furious wolfs
can't ****** his muscles
and touch his struggle  
Only thing they can do
is...stand on the road
made from sweats of others
and bark  

So you don't need to
go to them
and shout
how you feel about the words
he never spell

If possible  
please go
and  build a way
that will connect
your smile and
his faith
if someone comments about our skin color, caste or about our religion..factors which no way define us,  we drag racism into it.  Put our time, money and mind just to win the battle of words..in spite of knowing we will not going to gain anything from it
Its better to shift our attention and put our effort in solving problems related to farming and farmers , water or environment or we may reach a situation which we really cant tolerate even we wish to
May 2016 · 354
Bucephalus
Puspanjali Sahu May 2016
Sorry for the moment
when my soul
slipped into a puddle of blood
and touched helplessness of
the unfulfilled hope
to live,
lies beneath each drop of blood

That moment wrenched my trust off
And I crushed the day
when
with broken ribs and blood shaded body
I ran and ran
Do not know how many miles I crossed?
What I jumped
were mountains of bones
or pools filled with blood?

I could not hear anything
Neither screaming of dying breaths
Nor sound of swords
What sorrounds me was
heaps of silence
and heartbeats of my hope
that
the dying body over me
will not meet death

How could I crushed that day
The day
even with frozen blood
I could not close my eyes
and rest in peace
until you opened yours

If I could make a wish
I will go to you
and say.....thank you

Because you made me to
look at the sun
and I realized what scares me most
is nothing
but shadow of my own

Because you are the one
Who made me to love
and live with the feeling of love

Now
no matter what the world says
my heart knows
and it will let other know

You are a king
not mere a conqueror
(A twelve year old boy i.e. Alexander the Great touches a massive creature with love and rest all of you know. The world considers the cruel conqueror fortunate because he got perhaps the most loyal and brave horse.
But it is the horse who knows he got the worlds most loving master
Sometime it also happens that we know a person close from our heart but when the world throws mud on them we made our self part of that.
Hate the fact that few people paid price of public humiliation with their life
So we should think ones or many times if needed before clicking or commenting on a post publicly that can humiliate someone. We should express our sorry if we offended a person for a single mistake and should hold their hand in hard times)
Apr 2016 · 479
Yasodhara
Puspanjali Sahu Apr 2016
When
each day
each hour
each moment
gave me the feeling
of destined for you
A strong realization of
of having you
in my stars
made me
to believe my fortune
and
I started seeing you
with closed eyes

That moment
I discovered myself
completely naked
but not diffident
shy but not ashamed

With inexorable madness in my heart
and beaming peace in my mind
I looked down
with melting breath
to hold your hands
within mine

I thought
these hands can wipe
even the darkness of night
and all will remain
is the golden rays of morning sun
warm and bright

But you suddenly
pull your hands out
Calmness of your voice
cut me into pieces
when you declared
salvation is your destination
I could not believe
my trust owe me fate of a roadside stone

Now
standing amid the road to salvation
that filled with
fear
to love and to be loved
to give and to accept
to keep and preserve promises
I am still searching
a way to go back
and hold you tight

Because I know
all pain ends
if you have a shoulder to weep
love ties knot between people….few people even in their seventies hold their loved ones hand so tightly and dare to embrace death…
And few are so afraid of death (responsibilities)…they searched a way to escape in the name of moksha
This poem Yasodhara (Buddha’s wife) is a trial to deliver feeling of those …..
Apr 2016 · 360
Returned from the dead
Puspanjali Sahu Apr 2016
Thank you all
For showing me
on my return
how much you love me


But don’t ask
how does it feel
I can not say
whether I felt anything

Believe me
it was not defensive
I attacked…I killed…and killed
though
never intend to

Couldn’t remember
how many bodies fell down
Could not feel
coldness of blood on my hands
May be because
Blood on my veins
was at its maximum hotness

But when two watery eyes
soaked mine
I took her in my arms
……..and felt
A dead stone started breathing again


I felt sorry…..
For all whom I offered breathless life
Please forgive me

Oh God
If you give me a life again
make me soldier again
but
I wish to die
Saving breathe of others
Not taking it away

-----A Soldier
Apr 2016 · 338
Atonement
Puspanjali Sahu Apr 2016
With layers and layers of darkness
You and only you can shine like a bright star
How is it possible ?

Last day…
When I discovered you
over a heap of dead bodies
clasping rotten flesh in crooked hands
Between you and a lump of selfishness
I searched and searched…..
to find little difference

My heart started sinking in the sea
of sorrow

Oh dear crow
Cannot you be little different
from the sin-soaked world?

I looked back
with a grief-stricken heart
But
just at that moment
you crossed my grief
and perch high in the tree

With a strong shake
of your skinny neck
I felt
all your sins
scattered somewhere into the universe
And the bright blue sky
welcomed you
with its most tight hug
filled with divine love

Why  cannot I be like you?
Why cannot I leave my past
and perch high
into the sky

One day,
driven by the deadly hunger
my heart lost before me
With sordid soul
my throat touched
a… just-dead body
Blood of which…
still has marks
somewhere in my
nerves of sanity

And tells me each day….each moment
For sins full of selfishness
there is no atonement
Apr 2016 · 360
Fence
Puspanjali Sahu Apr 2016
Some wires full of thrones
Some cement filled pillars
full of small but sharp stones

Or
Some pieces of wood and some pieces of rope
embracing each other so deeply

See
are standing in front of us
as gallant warriors
and decide
Our boundary !
Our limitations !

Do not know
from where they gained such strength
Stop thinking of crossing them
You even can not touch
Neither strong waves of a roaring ocean
Nor deep red flames of fire
Nothing can threaten their existence

May be because
their germination started
back...long back
From deep...very deep
inside our heart

Now we can not see
standing on this side of fence
sky of the other side
Can not spread our hand
with closed eyes
and feel the morning fog

Because
Heart.......that defines us
started deceiving
feeling of trust
(few people smiles straight from their heart in spite of having dozens of problems.....and i feel like living in a pure. innocent world....
This poem is dedicated to all of them
Let's try to dedicate this to ourselves)
Puspanjali Sahu Apr 2016
It’s the same sun-shines
But the day feels little bright

I thank the world
for coating the sky
with beautiful words
But
feelings...these words carry
I already have

With the aflutter waiting in a man's eyes
when...was on my way to this beautiful world
I realized
this is the best place for me
Which by mistake
termed as
man's world....

Two rough hands carried me with maximum softness....
And I started to walk
Holding long fingers of the same hands
and realized....
The only place I can sleep...
and even the wind can not disturb me
Is my DAD's arm

So, dear DAD
THANK YOU
for making me apple of your eyes
queen of your heart
No matter how old I am
Before you,
I am always your little girl.....

With passing time
I realized
fantasies can be made real
moments can last forever
and
I can cry tears of happiness
Inside tight hugs of a mans hands....

So dear husband
I THANK YOU
for holding my hands firmly
while walking on the road of age

Today
when my son
with his little hands
hold mine
and told
Mamma...you need to care yourself
I discover another man
to care for me
and feel
I can be careless again....
.......A woman
A poem written on Women's day
(Please...do not live in the world of complains....but create a world of compliments....)

— The End —