"gulmohar" poems
#***It poured a heavenly rain today
The roads washed anew
Little streams danced and slid down the alleys to the music rains play
The Gulmohar petals in orange red hues
Lay strewn on the pavement grey
Perched atop the green leaves
Glorious they looked in the warm sun rays
A walk in the evening mellowed rains
The tiny raindrops fell gently upon my face And raincoat peach
Luminous under the street lamps
Silvery Rain-beams dance***#
Jul 5, 2018
Jul 5, 2018 at 6:10 AM UTC
Yesterday
Was in the ecstasy
Of realizing that
We were
Those two
On earth
Who liked bitter gourd curry
Cooked with coconut milk ….
Remember?
Think it was
In the sixth life.
We were
Two nascent bitter guards
On the pandal
Spread in the northern corner
Of the farmland
Belonging to a grandmother
In a village in Mississippi
Who used to attend to the orchards
Sitting in a wheelchair.
We had
Watched earth
And peeked
At the sky
Hanging from the same stalk
The scar left
From your tight clasp on my thigh
Scared
After spotting a double tailed pest
Is still there.
The pleasure of that pain
Makes me tearful now.
I am like the faces
In the house of deceased
Sobbing
At times
Bursting into tears
The next moment
Holding back
After a while.
Sometimes
I am all the faces
In the house of the dead
Tears have
Nothing to do with them.
Sometimes
The wedding house
Will laugh and laugh
Till its cheeks hurt.
Just like you.
My dear bitter guard,
When will we
Go back to that
Pandal in Mississippi
Where we had pulsated
From a single stalk?
Aren’t we the ones
To offer obsequies
To that grandmother
Who looked after us
With pots
Of wholehearted love?
Translator - Shyma P
Shyma P : Works in Payyanur College, Payyanur. Translator and film critic. Has translated poems and articles in Malayalam Literary Survey, The Oxford India Anthology of Malayalam Dalit Literature, online magazines like Gulmohar, Readleaf Poetry as well as scripts and subtitles for short films.
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 8:43 PM UTC
Beneath the gulmohar tree
In flamboyant love
A tale of our desires
Coloring each other
A bright vermillion
Under his crimson spread
Shaded in blissful haven.
Reaching for his branches
Clasping, holding
Climbing, swinging
Chasing, laughing
Under a bright shower of scarlet petals
Of hearts and heat, of love and life
Blooms of a scorching Indian summer.
In flames, his vibrant burning crown
His canopy, flaunting festive tangerine blossoms
Crinkled teasing petals
One upright
Of quaint innocence in white
Splashed with feisty passion's red
Celebrating and anticipating
In celebration of us, our love
Anticipating rain..
As his branches reach high for promising dark clouds.
Serenading with the music of the monsoons
Moist leaves of the gulmohar glisten
With wind and water, in gentle rhythm
Raindrops nestle for a moment
Before sliding, slipping
On damp, satiated earth
Strewn bright with scattered orange petals
Of the gulmohar
Drenched and soaked like us.
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 9:00 AM UTC
Lost in his thoughts
With her eyes closed
Waking up from her fancy
By the call of a pigeon
With a message from him
Conveying to meet him
Near the river side
Of the Gulmohar tree
Hearing the trumpet of
The evening conch
With an acceptable smile
Ready in his favourite
Shining peach fruit dress
Wide eyes with black kajal
Long black hair decorated
With magical fragrance
Of buds of jasmine flowers
Colourful bangles filling
Her soft wheatish hands
With musical bands
Sitting under the flame tree
Decorated with beautiful
Orange-red Gulmohar petals
Waiting for her beloved
Lasting the wait till dawn
But never did he come
Flowing kajal with her tears
Turning her to black cheeks
Back to her despondency
Like a broken soul
Comes again the pigeon
With a message on its body
Written by human blood
Dear, move on in your life
I am, no more in this life
Jasmines giving an odour
Bangles becoming colourless
Kajal, blurring her vision
Falling down on the floor
With her eyes closing !
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 1:38 AM UTC
Hear the gentle summer breeze
Whisking through gulmohar leaves
In the music of wind chimes
Tinkling songs of summer time
Feel her quiet on the skin
Filling hearts imaginings
See her as the blossoms dance
In the cusp of dawn's romance
In saplings that take a bow
In wind blown hair tousled now
Petals touched by her stir
Silken soft in gossamer
Light and dark shadows play
On shrubs of green bunched bouquet
While butterflies and bees sup
Drink nectar from sun's molten cup
Aug 16, 2016
Aug 16, 2016 at 10:08 AM UTC
Kadam yaadon ke ghere mein
Mera jab bhi kabhi padta
Woh aalam yaad aata tha
Woh aangan yaad aata tha
Woh dopahar mein gulmohar
Pe chadna yaad aata tha
Gulaabon, phal wa phoolon ka
Mehekna yaad aata tha...
Subah koyal ki ku ku ka
Woh shor o gul tha yaad aata
Agasi par tanhayi ka
Woh kona yaad aata tha
Har ek pal ki kahani thi
Woh dastaanon ka har lamha
Us chaukhat ka har ek paththar
Har zarra yaad aata tha
Falak par hi to hota hai
Tasawwur e irum aksar
Sama ki sar Zameen par tha
Jo "Firdaus" yaad aata tha
Padosi ka sulook e khair
Woh rishta yaad aata tha
Padosi ka hi phir hum par
Nishaana yaad aata tha
Woh kaalapan woh sannata
Woh buu e Raakh ka uthna
Mere armanon ke ghar ka
Jalana yaad aata tha
'Ain' ashq ab behta hai to kya
Mita to yeh nahi sakta
Khalish e qalb ka woh pal
Jo aksar yaad aata tha....
Sep 9, 2020
Sep 9, 2020 at 6:29 AM UTC
we played
all midsummer games,
soiled and bruised
on the floors
rolling with laughter
and dancing blue.
Life calls.
hush, shush.she mustn't know.
quick,hide.
everything turns yellow.
groping still. i seek.
I spy.
and you became stars
i looked in awe.
a proud kid.
i loved you guys
o archade.love you still.
like gulmohar.
kgp will miss you.
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 6:20 AM UTC
summer afternoon
*drifting into vision
gulmohar bloom*
summer evening
*does the breeze
dance or the tree?*
summer bath
*the shiver in
collected water*
summer twilight
*ma shops for
bigger buckets*
summer dawn
*music spills into
empty buckets*
summer dusk
*water tanker cuts
a snore into two*
summer rain
*outstretched palm
barred window*
Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 10:24 AM UTC
Stay well, table, inviting me
to sit by your side, sipping tea,
stay warm, books, wrapped warm
in your covers, steeped in Spirit,
stay well, koel, sing the same way
every stuttering morning that
comes lisping in the winds
and the tongues of the swallows
stay well, gulmohar, ever
alive in a glow of blooms
warming bare the summer heart
stay well, pens, ever meditating
this way, conjuring up
all the stories I tell in verse
stay well, my droid phone,
go on, recharge yourself in your
morning asana tied to the mains
stay well, web, where I plug in
and broadcast my thoughts
and receive blessings and grace
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 10:32 PM UTC
Draped in bridal red
Amidst widowed landscapes she stands
With her veil swaying gently in the breeze
And blossoms tinkling at her feet
Fractured light decorates her
Revealing rubies hiding in her tresses
She brings forth her veil
Shading weary scorched souls
An oasis
Amidst desolate desert sands
The forest fire rages
Against fate which brought upon us this drought
Rekindling hope
Of new birth and mercy
And rages
Until it's time for gentle showers and soothing greens
Then tired
Sleeps until the end of spring
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 5:36 AM UTC
the evening shadows of my psyche
stretch out towards you
at the days end i await your arrival
when the world begins to stir
toward home or to the tavern
and the evening lamps sing
i seek you out
to walk alongside me
on my quiet path
with gulmohar carpets
and dusky branches
watching over us.
tarry awhile, walk slow
lest the moment flies by too fast
what else is there left to do
but share this nameless bond?
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
09.01.2013
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish,
Jan 9, 2013
Jan 9, 2013 at 6:52 AM UTC
Was it just a gulmohar tree?
or did it mean more?
will it be remembered for its shade,
or for the beautiful flowers it bore?
will it stand just as a memory,
hidden in some remote corner of the mind?
or will it remain alive forever
like a couplet
against the blows of time.
-Rakshinda
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 7:36 AM UTC
already awaiting
another summer,
in great stillness,
to spread out over
the pruned grass and
mingle with the gentle
sway of the flowering
gulmohars...
Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 12:19 AM UTC
Teri talaash e nazar
Ghumsum si ek hasi
Chand ka mukhra
Dil e tanhaiyaan
Rooh ko mat tadpa o janiya
Dheere dheere se aa
Aur Naja Naja kanhi dur
Mere dil e dooriyon
Khud se khafa itna
Ki dard ko pi liya gulmohar ki tarah
Rang rang me pyaar ko dhoondta
Mein pagal deewana
Kabhi ish sadak kabhi os sadak
Jalti dhoop me chalta yeh mann...
Thandi kohre ki tamanaah liye...
Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 11:06 PM UTC
Each couple is stopped on the way
this March spring hour
with the city attired at its best
with gulmohar and flame of the forest
in mad bloom of yellow and red
and the hand touches each head
adorned with the season's flower
*blessed be your love
blessed be your luck*
and most of them yielded
to the blessings of the ******
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 11:45 AM UTC
.
***
Orange hue of Gulmohar,
Saffron colored palash
Hanging golden laburnum,
The beauty I had lost!
Blazing sunrise,
Golden sunsets,
Silent lakes,
Nature I
took for granted!
Family meetings,
Friends get-togethers,
Laughter and fun,
I wish, I had attended
some more.
Lockdowns, Isolation and
Corona,
Bought reality in my thoughts,
Small frictions and meaningless anger,
Busy earning the useless money,
Stole my days of life once lived,
My carefree time enjoying
nature & its beauty!
I promise, now the priorities will change,
Life will never ever be in the back seat again!
***
Sparkle In Wisdom.
8/7/2020
Jul 8, 2020
Jul 8, 2020 at 5:13 AM UTC
THOSE PRECIOUS LITTLE THINGS!
Dear friends, our very life and existence being transient and ephemeral, I have learnt to love those little things which provides me pleasure and happiness! Hope you like this short reflective poem. With best wishes, – Raj Nandy, New Delhi, 21 JAN. 2023.
THOSE PRECIOUS LITTLE THINGS!
Little things of life I have learnt to love and
enjoy.
Rays of the radiant sun streaming through
the window of my study;
Along with a glimpse of the radiant blue sky,
Dew drops on a blade of grass shimmering
in the early morning light.
Even a beam of the golden moon is enough,
To make me heave a nostalgic sigh!
Yet for some, enough is never enough,
As they try to cling on to those ducats,
Which slipped through miser Shylock’s
fingers when he died! (see photo)
Butterflies multi-colored wings,
Parrot feather of emerald green,
The sight of a Gulmohar tree in bloom
ablaze with tinges of yellow and red, -
Are enough, and my day gets made!
And so are those pearly drops of tears
shed from your doe-eyed eyes,
shall suffice,
To bid me farewell on my demise!
-Raj Nandy, New Delhi.
Jan 21, 2023
Jan 21, 2023 at 10:24 AM UTC
Friday 11:45a.m
Earth's oldest band: Thunder was having a concert on clouds
And raindrops wearing anklets
danced in her verandah
The wayward wind tickeled the branches
of Gulmohar tree,
And the newborn leaves wondered who it was?
There she was...in the warmth of moment
listening to the untold stories of faraway lands.
Sep 4, 2020
Sep 4, 2020 at 3:21 AM UTC
Beneath the gulmohar tree
In flamboyant love
A tale of our desires
Coloring each other
A bright vermillion
Under his crimson spread
Shaded in blissful haven.
Reaching for his branches
Clasping, holding
Climbing, swinging
Chasing, laughing
Under a bright shower of scarlet petals
Of hearts and heat, of love and life
Blooms of a scorching Indian summer.
In flames, his vibrant burning crown
His canopy, flaunting festive tangerine blossoms
Crinkled teasing petals
One upright
Of quaint innocence in white
Splashed with feisty passion's red
Celebrating and anticipating
In celebration of us, our love
Anticipating rain..
As his branches reach high for promising dark clouds.
Serenading with the music of the monsoons
Moist leaves of the gulmohar glisten
With wind and water, in gentle rhythm
Raindrops nestle for a moment
Before sliding, slipping
On damp, satiated earth
Strewn bright with scattered orange petals
Of the gulmohar
Drenched and soaked like us.
Mar 8, 2025
Mar 8, 2025 at 10:35 AM UTC
A distant gulmohar in full bloom calls the helpless insomniac bird to rest on it's ****** blossom,a miraculous tree with no roots,sprouting out of the ocean so vast,sky ahead without visible end,yet flies the bird to the horizon.
Why do you fly therewards?I ask,says the humble bird to me,this 'i' is only a part of the whole me,a flock riveting with love and life itself,I go to me.
My human tongue tells the bird,a certain end awaits his fall.says the ethereal being to me,I know not what may befall,but I hear sweet voice of one I seek and that have I made my call.
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 2:53 PM UTC
Contextual. I don't
get that much-I ask. How difficult
it was to remain like gulmohar*
A collision course will meet you
tomorrow.You were a step forward.
I was held back to know the truth.
You were always orange
and red. I want to remain a human being.
I tell explicitly. You were Agni.
*Delonix regia
Sep 24, 2020
Sep 24, 2020 at 8:39 PM UTC
We share many beautiful memories
Because, are we beautiful brothers
From childhood to adolescence to adulthood
Our relationship has never been less than very very good!
We share many beautiful memories
Playing cricket on the streets
And of course inside the house
Making a mockery of cricket rules in the process
For example, a one-handed one-pitch catch
Could win you the match
Or even better, getting beaten would be considered out
However, best of all was book cricket
Where India would score a thousand runs
And the opposing team would be shot out for less than fifty runs!!
We share many beautiful memories
Playing many Cric07 matches
You teaching me the "D-shot"
Myself as Steve Harmison playing 400 ***** without a single attacking shot
Pitching the ball on the wicketkeeper's legs
For sure, would we have outraged many cricket lovers!!
We share many beautiful memories
My unnaturally high-pitched laugh during the beginning of my teens
You having to explain cricket rules to me all over again
Though I had not REALLY forgotten
The hilarious Yelagiri boat incident
For hysterics, did I have some kind of talent!!
We share many beautiful memories
Listening to AR Rahman songs of the glorious late nineties
Before you converted me to a Harris Jayaraj fan
And more than a decade later, a Santhosh Narayanan fan!!
We share many beautiful memories
You and Shreeja teasing me multiple times
About the "Gulmohar Malare" song
Thanks to this, YouTube did I start watching!!
We share many beautiful memories
Playing the game "20 Questions"
Involving cricket as well as Harry Potter
Having multiple debates on Harry Potter
Comparing the movies with the books
This would go on for hours!!
We share many beautiful memories
Having multiple get-togethers with our relatives
Watching cricket matches at Ranga Periappa's house
Getting treated to Sizzling Brownies at Opal Inn
And can I go on and on
However, as per my idol Dr. Meena Kandasamy's advice sage
A poem has to stop at some stage
So, Dear Bro, hope you enjoyed reading
As much as I enjoyed writing!!
Feb 25, 2025
Feb 25, 2025 at 3:28 AM UTC
MUNIYA
One Summer day of May
Gulmohar, bright and gay
Red blossoms hugging her
Embracing the tiny visitor
Feathered, brown coloured
Small sized, sparkling eyed
Gregarious and melodious
Muniya, the bird vivacious.
She merrily flew in and out
With twigs, figs in her snout
Framing her cosy little nest
By putting in the very best
She laid eggs, pearly white
Sentiments intensely bright
Mystic Muniya motivated
Elated, she daily incubated.
That noon, warm oppressively
All birds screamed aggresively
Slender satan climbed devilishly
Muniya fought back vigourously
Birds pecked the foe ferociously
Serpent slithered surreptitiously
Gulping the eggs remorselessly
All unborn perished noiselessly.
Muniya wailed loudly, bitterly
Her world shattered suddenly
Pain, loss penetrating the soul
Depressing, difficult to console
Emotions enveloping the avian
Her unborn drifted into oblivion
Misty eyed, she fled mournfully
Misty eyed, I prayed soulfully.
One fine bright summer day of May
To my surprise on my verandah lay
Muniya, her eggs in salubrious nest
Fervent feelings felt, of fest, of zest
Venturing in and out gregariously
Savouring sprouts, seeds ravenously
Muniya nourishing new beginnings
Making new innings, new winnings.
@ Preeti Pathak
Apr 27, 2023
Apr 27, 2023 at 2:23 AM UTC
#*Blooming
In the darkest of hue
Brightest of colours
Vibrant orange, magenta and red
Summer’s at its peak
The flowers speak
Gulmohar’s orange glow
Like a sweet memory
Of summer retreat
A bouquet one can never hold
Bougainvilleas
Sigh on the lattice
Like cascading rills
Of magenta pinks
Beauteous reds
Roses and Hibiscus
In the garden grow
Tempestuous*#
Apr 22, 2025
Apr 22, 2025 at 6:25 AM UTC