Lord Krishna had told long time ago-
Grave words like the sea not hollow:
"In the time of industrial & modern age,
People would be the birds in a golden cage:
Where they'd born with the wings colouring
But they'd forget the tune of how to singing,
People of modern time would be heartless
They'd be the cause of blame, never confess!
Science & technology would touch the apex
But the root of it like the dead tree fakes,
All sayings would be inactive fantastical
As a hand contains bloodless & acute nail,
People during modern age would be the king
And wish to govern over vassals very tiring,
When all strengths would subject to ash
And blood would submerge into flesh,
Only a MANTRA would come sailing by-
Hare Krishna & I'd be there being the moonlike eye."

The night full of moons, a firefly
Came flying with bright light and I
Was pursuing her all the night.

But vain, where I went along
Like fading away of nightingale song,
I saw a dancing boat's sail.

The moon was glowing more
Than the another day, the door
Of my heart caused her to sway.

The light of the firefly I followed
Made me rich beyond the dream of odd,
She was more sweeter than the cream.

The air was so gentle to the firefly
And suddenly she came to cry,
Later I knew Agnitanaya was her name.

Soul whispered, "you're in the desert,
Upon the sand you're drawing art,
Thus the night declared morning.

Now I know I was searching a fellow,
It was nothing but a dark shadow,
Although I felt her pleasure and lark.

(Agnitanaya: the daughter of fire)

Ujjal Mandal, India

He taught us about enlightenment
How to reach in fulfilment.
He taught us about tolerance
Who discovered its presence.
He warned us of what might happen
If we fall under greed, ignorance and aversion.
If these three fires are not quenched
The cycle of rebirth won't attain.

A boy without a single money
Sitting below a tree looking
Unhappy and tears teeming
At its brink.
Each boy plays 'Holi' the joy
Of colours.
But the boy has no money to buy
Colours of smile.
Someone has thrown
The green colour away to him.
But he plays like others with his
Unbreaking thoughts and perceptions
In his waking mind.
He has nothing but dream colours.

The colour has no caste no religion
Just fetterless as a crowned pigeon,
The sun never marks any division
What's red, green, black or saffron.

All the colour is a single entity,
Like the author's artistic creativity;
And upon the asleep city
The moon mirrors itself - the beauty.

The colour is a life of how to live-
Taking a role of a new leaf,
It is a sugarcoated rose you sip
How orphean! Do believe.

Money is not a verb to the colour
That a poet knows very well:
A girl of not going to parlour
She is pretty still, at cottage dwell.

All say the NIGHT is nothing but you
After repellent darkness a day new,
The firefly that takes the PRIDE
Is none other than luminescent light,
A bud gets its fulfilment lonely
In darkness is YOU(mother) the latency,
The sun has got the ball of fire
From YOU, O SWEET MOTHER!
The cloud is devoid of guile white
Sailing in the space so bright:
Whiteness of impeccability is yours
The golden wings that the sun endures,
The moon is smiling among the stars
Glowing like thousand of night flowers.

O Mother: the beauty of the beauties
Give me endless strength as the bliss
To ruin the weaknesses inside me.
The ointment to the grave wounds
Is MOTHER KALI the power no bounds
I bend my HEAD down to thee!

Ujjal Mandal,  India

Blackness is the beauty
Of the night.

The DREAM never keeps your word
If you play with it,
A tree produces a thousand seeds
Into fruits,
Numberless lives in sleep can be stirred
At anytime.
The tree drops the mature fruits
Upon the ground,
The wind leads them to sleep and
To stand up like the newborn babies,
If the tree had a hand keeping the fruit
In the sun and not dropped it,
The seed couldn't get a new journey.
Do work honestly without any self-interest:
Believe the WORK you are doing,
Never STOP in thinking of RESULT.

Flowers bloom
unfolding soft hands and
opening the beauty to the
the eyes exhausted;
when the mortals feel hunger,
flowers feed them the essence;
even when the mortals catch the rays,
flowers feel its innocence.

Flowers can be an interior mirror
of face, heart and mind.
We are flowers, and
our beauty lies in
smiling,
sincerity and openness
to the heart.

Ujjal Mandal, India

Love the day, who knows this is the last sigh of the day.
Like the lifting waves in the quiet bay.