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27/Two-Spirit/Melting Pot    Seven is for 1 . As 4 is for 1 . If 74 was 11 they too could be 2 for 1 and I am …
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Poems

Shashank K Dwivedi  Aug 2015
Maa
Maa
Jab aankh khuli to amma ki
godi ka ek sahara tha
uska nanha sa anchal mujhko
bhumandal se v pyara tha.....
uske chehre ki jhalak dekh
chehra phulo sa khilta tha
uske stan ki ek bund se
mujhko jeevan milta tha
haatho se baalo ko noocha
pairo se khoob prahar kia
phir v us maa ne puchkara
humko jee bhar ke pyar kia

Mai uska raja beta tha
wo ankho ka tara kahti thi
mai banu budhape me uska
bas ek sahara kahti thi
ungli ko pakad chalaya tha
padhne vidlaya bheja tha
meri naadani ko v neej
antar me sadasaheja tha

Mere saare prashno ka wo
fauran jawab ban jaati thi
meri raho ke kaante chun
wo khud gulaab ban jaati thi
mai bada hua to college se
ek rog pyar ka le aaya
jis dil me maa ki murat thi
wo ramkali ko de aaya

shaadi ki pati se papa bana
apne rishto me jhul gya
ab karwa chauth maanta hu
maa ki mamta ko bhul gya
hum bhul gye uski maamta
mere jeevan ki thati thi
hum bhul gye apana jeevan
wo amrit wali chaati thi

Hum bhul gye wo khud bhukhi
rah karke hume khilati thi
humko sukha bistar dekar
khud geele me soo jaati thi
hum bhul gye usne hi
hotho ko bhasha sikhlayi thi
meri neendo ke lie raat bhar
uss maa ne lori gaayi thi

hum bhul gye har galti par
usne danta samjhaya tha
bach jau buri najar se
kala teeka sada lagaya tha
hum bade hue to mamta wale
saare bandhan tod aaye
bangle me kutte paal laye
maa ko vridhaashram chod aaye
apano sapno ka mahal girakar
kankar -kankar been laye
khudgargi me uske suhag ke
aabhushan tak cheen laye

Hum maa ko ghar ke batware ki
abhilasha tak le aaye
usko paawan mandir se
gaali ki bhasha tak le aaye

to be continued ........(next part may be in next week)
Copyright© Shashank K Dwivedi
email-shashankdwivedi.edu@gmail.com
Follow me on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/skdisro
La donzelletta vien dalla campagna,
In sul calar del sole,
Col suo fascio dell'erba; e reca in mano
Un mazzolin di rose e di viole,
Onde, siccome suole,
Ornare ella si appresta
Dimani, al dì di festa, il petto e il crine.
Siede con le vicine
Su la scala a filar la vecchierella,
Incontro là dove si perde il giorno;
E novellando vien del suo buon tempo,
Quando ai dì della festa ella si ornava,
Ed ancor sana e snella
Solea danzar la sera intra di quei
Ch'ebbe compagni dell'età più bella.
Già tutta l'aria imbruna,
Torna azzurro il sereno, e tornan l'ombre
Giù dà colli e dà tetti,
Al biancheggiar della recente luna.
Or la squilla dà segno
Della festa che viene;
Ed a quel suon diresti
Che il cor si riconforta.
I fanciulli gridando
Su la piazzuola in frotta,
E qua e là saltando,
Fanno un lieto romore:
E intanto riede alla sua parca mensa,
Fischiando, il zappatore,
E seco pensa al dì del suo riposo.
Poi quando intorno è spenta ogni altra face,
E tutto l'altro tace,
Odi il martel picchiare, odi la sega
Del legnaiuol, che veglia
Nella chiusa bottega alla lucerna,
E s'affretta, e s'adopra
Di fornir l'opra anzi il chiarir dell'alba.
Questo di sette è il più gradito giorno,
Pien di speme e di gioia:
Diman tristezza e noia
Recheran l'ore, ed al travaglio usato
Ciascuno in suo pensier farà ritorno.
Garzoncello scherzoso,
Cotesta età fiorita
È come un giorno d'allegrezza pieno,
Giorno chiaro, sereno,
Che precorre alla festa di tua vita.
Godi, fanciullo mio; stato soave,
Stagion lieta è cotesta.
Altro dirti non vò; ma la tua festa
Ch'anco tardi a venir non ti sia grave.
Anubhuti priya Mar 2015
I would love to tell you,
About my unique mother,
Not SHE but HE is my true from other,
Yes! HE,
He loves me , He cares for me,
He tries for me, he cries for me,
He teachs in the amazing easiest form
That I never ever thinked of ,
I learn that things so easily ,
That sometimes I feels if I had wings to off,
He helped me out whenever
His help I sought,
He apologies even on my faults.
A unique mom with  pure soul
Yes he treats me like a baby doll
For the soul with unselfishness thoughts
I got everything he brought,
His flawless love for me  as his child,
With the the pure heart and love so mild,
His hands on my head at night
makes me sleep with love so devine,
He don’t only calls me his bachhaa in miss
I actually feels that when he use to kiss,
That’s the only sure affection
I think its bliss…
When I use to get gussa
He calls me “aleee melaa bachhaa”
I suddenly hug him so tightly
That my head takes place
In his chest so nicely.
Yes he’s my hubby too
But before that he had made his betuuu’.
He didn’t get irritated with me ,
As a mother never use to be.
His GODI gives me the whole rest,
Yes! for me his lap is best,
With the perfect sleep it fills
There is no need me to take any pills.
My real mumma even don’t care of my crust,
But my mumma don’t take his meal
Without me to have it first,
My real mummma don’t even know
When I cry,
And mumma! he feels my breathing so high,
He knows how to control my fast breath,
In a seconds he use to vanish it.
Hes arms takes me to the heaven,
But the only heaven I want ,
because
Not that one the god had given.
Please god let me live with this flaw,
I don’t wanna leave and cant even go!