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.

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.

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."

Ujjal Mandal,  India

Blackness is the beauty
Of the night.

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

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