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Ksjpari  Aug 2017
Jyoti Kumta
Ksjpari Aug 2017
Leaders whom we followed
Are very rare, sporadic woad
Who cures by brain stowed
With lots of info like Spode.
Mrs. Jyoti Kumta, a Daniel, rode
Like a strong horse strode
And asked all of us to goad
Upon values, which we towed
Earlier on an unknown road.
Thanks to Jyoti who mowed
Our ignorance and sowed
Seeds of cognition and glowed.
She completely made an abode
In our hearts and not be decode.
I am developing a new style of writing poetry where ending words of a line rhyme with one another, at least in last sound. I named it Pari Style. Hope readers will like it. Thanks to those invisible hands and fingers which supported and inspired me to continue my efforts in my new, creative, artistic and innovative “Pari” style. Thanks for your inspiring, kind, soft fingers.
Let Heaven look after her
Her last moments were in Hell
A beautiful woman taken
A victim of brutality
Thrown from a moving bus
Left out in the cold to die

A friend feels the pain
He loved you but was powerless
His soul is crying for you
A family lost someone special
She was a daughter, a sister
Hear her father in agony

The World stood still that day
The shock remains for all time
You still had so much to give
So very much to live for
In silence the World prays
Rivers of tears fall for you
What's in a name?
Let me tell you a story,
Of how my life changed,
And how my name changed,
Every time it appeared on the newspaper.

Replaced by a pseudonym,
Something to do with courage,
I was namelessly admired, slandered, and debated over,
Media’s Exclusive Coverage!

The newspaper headline read in big block letters:
“14 YEAR OLD GIRL SAVES SIX KINDERGARTNERS”,
That made me smile.
Just maybe I thought we had come that extra mile.
But no for I noticed,
My name was changed,
And the Printing Department was not at fault.
That’s just how my country dealt with ****** assault.
I never asked them to hide my name,
They had presumed, of course, that I was ashamed,
Of saving lives. It took me a minute to remember,
I had called Jyoti Nirbhaya for years.

I wanted them to know who I was,
Hiding I thought was for criminals,
Until I realized that I WAS one when,
On returning from the hospital I saw,
Pain in my mother’s,
Anger in my father’s,
And disgust in my relatives’ eyes.
No idea why a part of me had come expecting pride.

In school my “friends” guiltily refrained from talking to me,
Neither were my teachers too happy to see,
That I had returned to the same school,
Bringing with me my painful story,
Which I had mistaken as one of glory.

And when I went to receive the “Bravery Award”,
Only the trophy didn’t read compensation award.
They looked at me with too kind eyes calling me a “hero”
Their smiles told me they meant violated.

As I received the award,
I saw they were trying really hard,
To not let it show,
That they wanted me to know,
The difference between:
Bullet marks on the chest to bite marks on the breast,
Blue around the eyes to blue around the thighs,
Scratches on the fists to cuts on the wrists,
Loud screams in the cold to muffled screams against the cold,
The red of the torn ligament to the red of the torn *****,
The difference between a soldier’s and a victim’s blood.

And suddenly I felt as if I was,
The rescued,
Not the rescuer,
The maimed,
Not the fighter,
The oppressed,
Not the rebel,
The hostage,
Not the warrior,
I thought myself to be.

What’s in a name?
Apparently, a lot.
The name of the girl who is a **** survivor is always changed and replaced by a pseudonymn in India.
Jyoti Yadav Feb 2017
Dear Wife,

My life, my love is all yours,
I will gonna love you forever.

I wanna tell you that you are a bliss,
But still, i must tell you that i have a wish.

When i die, burry me in backyard of our home,
Don't burn me with the traditional norms.

I know, on this, you would be about to cry,
But look at stars i will be in the sky.

Get me buried there, this have a reason,
Because i will always be with you every season.

Because i wanna be alive till my last breath,
Because i wanna be alive even after my death.

When you will grow plants in backyard,
In every flower, i will be smiling at you like a guard.

When you walk barefoot on grass,
You will feel me with every footstep pass.

When winds will blow,
You will smell me with the wind flow.

Because i wanna love you till my last breath,
Because i wanna love you even after my death.

When storm will come, don’t be numb.
Because protective wall i will become.

Don’t fear when it’s dark,
See me in light when it sparks.

When our children will play in lawn,
I will be watching them from dawn.

When you will be cooking inside,
I will feel the craving in wide.

Because i wanna be with you till my last breath,
Because i wanna be with you even after my death.

When it will be your birthday, Dress up like a pretty doll,
Because i will be still looking at you like a heart fall.

When our family will be celebrating together
I will be enjoying seeing you all getting stronger.

When you will be old, don’t make your life on hold.
I will still be with you, as i told.

Don’t be sad when you miss me,
I will always be around you in the winds,
Just hold your breath and kiss me.

Because I wanna be alive till my last breath,
Because I wanna be alive even after my death.

                                                         ~Jyoti Yadav
Please review and feedback about the poem.
I am in my cave now...
the concave walls of solitude
Arms of God
enfold me...
A light burning in the Splendor
Twinkle Sagwal Aug 2014
This is about 25 days ago,I and my brother were at my uncle Deepak's home. We all were very excited because at our home somebody had to came. At that day my aunt Jyoti's brother came with his wife, but,those were not about whom I am talking. After several hours a call came to us of my uncle,he was saying"We are coming in 15 minutes." We all got more excited as we were,especially my brother Rahul was excited because there was a special gift for him.After 10-15 minutes we heard a car's horn.He was my uncle Deepak and my uncle Anil.Uncle Anil was the special person.He was my father's sister's husband, Mr.Anil Turan.He had arrived at our home to take back my father's sister aunt Sangeeta and a little and cute 11 months 15 days baby back to Australia. After 2 days on 29-08-14 they have to go to airport to take a flight of Australia from there.I,Rahul and my grandmother's nephew Preeti also want to go,but my father and uncle Deepak protested, but at last this was final that we three will also go.After two days the date came when we all had to left aunt Sangeeta and Rehab.We all had booked 1 car and one is of our own.On that day we had to move from here for Delhi airport at 3:00 pm.After 3-4 hours we enter in Delhi, but before going to airport we go to my uncle's home where I met to my uncle as well as my aunt and my cousins. After moving from there after half hour we reached to airport;there my look was as a foreigner so all were saying to me that we think Teenu will go Australia. There we left Rehan and his parents and came from there. That was my last meeting with Rehan .I left there Rehan but not our sweet and lovely moments which we spent together. Today also when I think about him tears automatically come from my eyes.
Jyoti Yadav  Feb 2017
Black
Jyoti Yadav Feb 2017
You say Black is Dark, I say black is Bright.

You say Black is scaring, I say black is daring.

You say black is bad, I say black is good.

You say black is evil, I say black is civil.

Black is dark, that’s why it makes us bright,

Black is dark that’s why we know the light.

Black is bad because we are sad,

Just be happy and see black is glad.

Black is scaring, because we are fearing,

Just be strong and see black is daring.

Black is evil, because inside us is devil,

Adapt the goodness and see black is civil.

Life is a *****, and then black is the hope

Fight hard and then come to the top.

Black is learning, black is a LESSON,

Absorb the struggle and come with PASSION,

Be black because black is a FASHION.



~Jyoti Yadav
Please read and review my poem.

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