"chowk" poems
In speculating a plumage’s stinging or sorting
yesteryear’s chromosomes glint of antiques
resplendent as rivulets at The Moonlit Square
that shimmered beneath penumbras of fear
A stained moon foreshadowing
Jahan Ara’s Chowk for Silver Wear
The canals blocked, choking with Change
Glistering new arrivals, effusing of Change:
the tryst carries grave integrity within veins
branching across peninsula for pumping reigns
Ours is the Strange Acquiesce
where a fledgling’s plumage unfurls
toward velvety notes of wealth
A perennial disruption of equilibrium
From Smack to Silk Route till Here
Before Iwans, Jhajjharis, or intricate Basti
its plumage swayed from Golden Age
burdened through pronouncements as
Gujarata-Pratihara; Pala; Rashtrakuta:
the peninsula that sustains formidable histories
shall commemorate edifices lost by centuries
Together We Ruminate: What state must it bear this day?
traversed across periods
sorrowed by time
plumage seeks to retire
in search of rhyme
Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 1:58 PM UTC
"NOTHING MUCH FOR MINORS"
Minors are those less than eighteen,
As they don't have knowledge in keen.
They don't have a driving licence,
As don't have driving sense.
Minors are given just pen and page,
Their life is not more than a cage.
Holiday is not given even on sundays,
As their age is negligible for fundays.
Parents are worried not to get blame,
From minors they just want their fame.
Circumstances are same for every minor,
Parents are just their life designer.
-Sahaj Sabharwal.
-Chowk Chabutra,
-Jammu.
-11th Class.
©sahajsabharwal
Delhi Public School, Jammu #India #Poem #Jammu #sahajsabharwal12345 #DelhiPublicSchool #DpsJammu
#copyright #INDIA #TALENTPOETSahaj Sabharwal
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 10:34 AM UTC
This is how it is, more or less like Ramanujan,
Or I don’t know if it’s okay to think like this,
Whatever makes you comfortable, stable.
I know how it feels to be outside my body
When appachi, valyammavan and all others
Exist in minor contradictions, but you must
Realise that the pictures that run your mind
Include things as silly as our car loans.
In the slanting late-night musings that you do-
Beneath the green and white curtains of my room,
I collapse into a cupboard of my little history
And you stand as a ghost in absence. Lost.
Like a child, like how I used to be. Crying.
Have had I told you that you smell like
A jewelry shop in brand new air freshener,
Just after a midnight Medimix shower
Perhaps you could have recognized me-
The tiny girl, daughter, lover, and mother, next you.
Where did I fail? Probably in the mornings I learned
To walk, the years that taught me math lessons,
Times father reached me as phone calls,
In college as a pair of blue jeans and love poems,
While in Chandini Chowk, inside the tiny room-
Upstairs home and all the hours before I walked
Into the college library with my roommate.
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 5:09 AM UTC
RESPECT
*1Respect is the Desire of everybody's mind,
But is only given to people who are kind.
*2Respect is given to those who deserve it,
And is not given to those who are unfit for it.
*3Respect is like a fuel of life,
Without which a man cannot work rife.
*4Respect to our elders plays an important role,
As its the blessing to achieve our goal.
*5Respect is like a bullet of a gun,
Which Travels with us in long run.
*6Respect when given to all,
His reputation will never fall.
©sahajsabharwal.
-Sahaj Sabharwal.
-Chowk Chabutra, Jammu
-11th Class.
Delhi Public School, Jammu #India #Poem #Jammu #sahajsabharwal12345 #DelhiPublicSchool #DpsJammu
Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 7:27 AM UTC