"karishma" poems
Oh motherland, at your feet
may all moments of my life lie sacrificed
This strength of my youth, these breaths,
All are surrendered to you
To protect your honour
I would forego hundred lifetimes
I would either embrace death or
vanquish your enemies
Touching your feet in reverence
I take this solemn oath
until the end of my life
I would be loyal to you
Those who have died in your lap
their spirits bask in eternal happiness
*Oh motherland, at your feet
may all moments of my life lie sacrificed*
My mother tells me
I will go on without you
bearing the pain of your passing
by turning my heart into stone
However, if in your lifetime
there is a threat to this country
and being fearless you do not
fight this threat, my son,
then, I will think, I birthed
poison instead of life
or that my nourishment
did not give enough strength
Listening to these words
my head lies forever bowed
*Oh motherland, at your feet
may all moments of my life lie sacrificed*
It is not only said by my mother
but all mothers of this country
to give birth to a Narsimh
they bear difficult pangs of labour
Those brave warriors who wrote
history with their life blood
carry their images in your heart
and placing your hand there, promise,
you will forsake everything else
at the call of your motherland
Your body, soul and life
surrendered to your country
*Oh motherland, at your feet
may all moments of my life lie sacrificed*
Narsimh - an avatar of the Hindu god Vishnu,often visualised as having a human torso and lower body, with a lion face and claws. He is known primarily as the 'Great Protector' who specifically defends and protects his devotees in times of need.
Translation is given by karishma ji
Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 7:21 AM UTC
Rus wa na ** tum hamse, meri jaan
Murjha na jaye kahin dil ka ye gulistaan
Juda hai sabse andaaz ye hamara
Saason se humney cheda hai
dil ka saaz ye tumhara
Khwahish hai tum mein; ** jaye hum fanaa
Karte hai tumse toh
hum muhabbat bepannah
Mil bhi lo aake hamse is tarah
Noor mil jaaye
Jahaalat se jis tarah
Khuda Ko paane ka; yeh hai raasta nirala
Muhabbat bhi hai bas
kudrat ka hi toh karishma
Rus wa na ** tum hamse, meri jaan
Murjha na jaye kahi dil ka ye gulistan
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 7:10 AM UTC
Junoon Kanha
Ab pehle ki tarah
Abhi na hosh raha
Aur wajah bhi jeene ki jaise
Dheere dheere
khatam Hoti ja Rahi hai
Bewajah
ya
phir wajah
Daru
Pita hu nukkad nukkad me
Aur dhoondta hu ek theekana
Janha Noor Bhari
pyaar hi pyaar **
.
..
Aur na Milne par
Phir se
Sharaab e gulab
Me Nazar
Aur...
Sharaab Ko hi Humsafar ki tarah ghulta doobta ...ek yaad me
Chun Liya ** jaise...
Har waqt
Har lamha
Khyaal e khwaab me
Aur
chamakta Sitara
Ko tootte hue dekha
Toh phir ek mehfil
Aur
khyaal wohi puraane din ke
Aur
aaj bhi yaad karu
Toh Lage naye jaise taaza
gulaab e nasha ...
Aur Ishq Bhari woh aankhein
Kudrat ka karishma ** jaise
..
Aankh khuli
Par Raha toh mein bas ek sharaabi
Yaadein aur woh neele neele amber
Aur oska Chand ki taraf dekhna
.
Aur
mein niharta ose
Chandni raaton me
Chand se bhi jaida khubsurat
Ose dekhta mein Haqeeqat me
...
...
...
Aur phir ek kaanch ki bottle tooti
mere haathon me
Khyaal aaya
Ki
Ab mein osse bahot dur ** Chuka hu
...bahot dur...
Aur Ishq jaise...
Najane aankhon me kaed
Aaskhq e beedi
Khud Ko jalata
aur
.
.
.
Kitni bhi koshish Karu
Par oska chehra Nazar aa hi jata
..
...
.
.
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 6:14 PM UTC
(Before read
Abhimanyu was a young and great warrior of the great War of MAHABHARAT. This poem is a part of long poetry written by me and translated by karishma ji.
If you all responded and want to know more about abhimanyu i post next paragraphs)
THANKS KARISHMA JI FOR TRANSLATION)
Poem is:-
Courage knows no limits of age
A battlefield has no role for cowards
Those cannot struggle
Who fear their own mortality
Those who are cowards get scared
and blame others as the cause
Those who break the bounds of time
Are immortalized in history
There are some bounds for God and Devil
However, for man, what is impossible
There one such brave victor of time
A warrior, a winner of hearts
Arjun was his father, Subhadra his mother,
The vigour of bravery runs in his bloodstream.
Yudhistir and Bhim were his uncles,
He was the nephew of Shri Krishna, Bhishma his grandsire
His arms were made of steel, his chest was broad,
His body muscular however gentleness abound
At the age of sixteen he was a shining sun
Drums of war were music to the ears of Abhimanyu
Jul 22, 2016
Jul 22, 2016 at 3:51 AM UTC
UMMEED
Sach kahu to tabaah hu mai,
Tere jane ke baad khush kaha hu mai.
Arso ** gye tujhe chod ke gaye,
Fir bhi usi jagah ruka hu mai.
Tere laut aane ki ummeed mere aage badh jane se aachi hai,
Par tu nhi smjhegi ye baat tu to abhi bachi hai .
Tu nahi aayegi ye khayal hi bahut darata hai,
Par tu jarur aayegi ye khayal dil me dugni ummeed jagata hai.
Kaash ke koi karishma ** jaye,
Tera mera milan iss martaba ** jaye.
Tu aaye mere jiwan me khushiyon ki saugaato ki tarah,
Or jo gira tha meri ummeedo ka mahal firse wo ek martaba khada ** jaye
Kaash ke koi karishma ** jaye.
~Tannu.
Aug 10, 2020
Aug 10, 2020 at 1:47 PM UTC
(For better understanding read my poem Abhimanyu (part-1))
TRANSLATED BY KARISHMA JI (Thanks to her)
When Kurukshetra* was burning in the flames of war
God of death had opened his third eye
When the heads of men were being chopped
When Jackals were tearing apart the corpses on the ground
When blood thirsty men were waging war against themselves
When arrows notching the bow caused uncountable deaths
Goddess of war was dancing on mortal bodies
Wicked witches laughed at the loss of human lives
Laps of mothers were suddenly empty
Dust covered the parting of hair where vermilion was once applied**
The fire which raged the whole nation – Bharat
Was the great war, known as Mahabharat***
Earth was covered with blood and tears
Chariots overran the bodies of men
Warriors were trying to quench their greed
Trying to slake their bloodlust
These were the descendants of the same ancestor
Some were younger brothers and some were their elders
But brotherhood was sacrificed to statehood
Eyes shone only with passionate savagery
* Kurukshetra – name of a battlefield
** Traditionally, Hindu women apply vermilion to a parting of their hair after marriage
*** Mahabharat – an epic narrative of the battle of Kurukshetra
Jul 22, 2016
Jul 22, 2016 at 12:26 PM UTC
These love filled pools of your eyes
I would forsake my life for them
intoxicating like lakhs of goblets of wine
these love filled pools of your eyes
Roses of love blossom in your cheeks
the audacious wind dances kissing your lips
the faint smile that is hinted by your lips
is one for which lovers would willingly die
these love filled pools of your eyes
Your youth is as pure and daring as drops of rain
wonder how many secrets your thoughtless, languid, eyelashes contain
waves of the river maybe likened to your walk
looking at its gracefulness, others would stand still
these love filled pools of your eyes
Your form, like a doe, is innocent and playful
your spirit is fragrant as a branch laden with flowers
your hair spill into waves and coil serpentine
looking at them, could you tell me why not to bear lovesickness?
these love filled pools of your eyes
ये प्यार भरे आँखों के प्याले
इनपर है कुर्बान मेरी जाँ,
लाखों-लाखों मधुशालें
ये प्यार भरे आँखों के प्याले।
प्रणय पुष्प का लाल रंग गालों पर खेल रहा झूम-झूम,
झूम रहा गुस्ताख पवन तेरे मस्त लबों को चूम-चूम,
ईन चटख गुलाबी होठो पर पतली सी मुस्कान है जो,
इस मुस्कान के कारण तो मीट-मीट जाएँ दिलवाले,
ये प्यार भरे आँखों के प्याले......
सावन के उच्चश्रृंखल बूंदों सा यौवन है बेबाक तेरा,
बेपरवाह अलसाये पलकों में जाने कितना राज भरा,
चंचल सरिता की इठलाती लहर सी मतवाली तेरी चाल है जो,
देख के ऐसी चाल को दिलवर ठिठके ना क्यूं चलने वाले,
ये प्यार भरे आँखों के प्याले.....
अल्हड़ वन हिरनी सी चंचल कमनीय कमर मलवाली,
सुरभित हो तुम ऐसे जैसे लदी फूलों की डाली,
नागिन जैसे इतराते बलखाते तेरे काले केश हैं जो,
देख इन्हें तुम ही कहो क्यों रोग मोहब्बत का ना पालें,
ये प्यार भरे आँखों के प्याले...........
English translation is given by Karishma ji
Thanks to her
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 10:55 PM UTC
It's easy for me to write a song,
I hum the bars and sing along
Music stirring in my brain
That I can't release so I go insane
I just hope that by posting lyrics
Someone will know what I meant to do with it
That someone will have my music in their head
And that shared like telepathy will be the lullaby to bed
Sep 8, 2016
Sep 8, 2016 at 5:24 AM UTC
Like a bouquet of
fresh and delicate daisies,
carefully he wrapped me up
in a red chiffon saree.
His hungry eyes traveled
from one part to another
of my covered yet bare body!
I could hear my heart beating
loudly against my rib-cage,
as if it wanted to convey a message.
The butterflies in my stomach
were gone, replaced by
a sinking feeling inside my gut.
Everything felt different but
everything looked the same!
He smiled at me and Oh boy!
My heart was melting again…
Leaving me alone
in a shabby little room,
he left promising to be back soon…
Alone with my thoughts,
quietly I sat there,
I don’t know why but every advice
mother gave echoed in my head,
I could hear my voice screaming at me
telling me to run as fast as I can.
But alone with my thoughts,
quietly I sat there,
My life came crashing down
and my nightmares turned into reality
when the door creaked open
but it wasn’t him who walked in,
but a drunk, creepy looking man.
I looked into his eyes,
his soul-piercing stare…
I didn’t know how
but I recognized that stare.
He smiled at me and God…
I knew I was dead!
I screamed, cried and yelled
but stopped when I saw
that was not going to help…
And the moment he pushed
his huge body on top of mine,
all I could see was the smiling face
that once made my heart melt…
I cried as I laid on the bed; dead…
The pain of heartbreak and betrayal
was no match to the pain of his merciless thrusts.
He moaned and groaned like an animal
as he ****** my soul and not just my ****
That night didn’t end soon
as if the universe wanted me to suffer
for every wrong, I’ve ever done.
He came back, not exactly as promised,
But he had the same smile
plastered on his face,
mocking me and taunting me…
Why didn’t I before see his true face…?
And again, like a mangled bouquet
of decayed and dead daisies,
carefully he wrapped me up
in a torn and blood stained
red chiffon saree!
Karishma Yadav
Jan 11, 2019
Jan 11, 2019 at 8:18 AM UTC
I hide suicide letters under my pillow. Letters that I wrote every time I lost a reason to live. Letters that I wrote every time I was tempted to slice open my vein; to slip into the darkness once and for all.
I have died each time I wrote a letter and I will live forever in the pain of my words and the dried stains of my tears on those aging pieces of paper.
My manicured nails are home to my anxiety, my fears. They haunt me every second of my day as they wait for the right time to come near.
I try my best and I try so hard not to listen to their murmurings that echo inside my brain. I try not to believe them when they say that I'm worthy of all the pain.
I wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in my own sweat and tears. I am scared of the demons of my nightmares that now live with me and sleep in my bed.
A shiver runs down my spine whenever something good happens in my life. For I am accustomed to the feeling of loss and I'm scared if without my loneliness I'll survive.
I'm always building walls around me with the bricks of broken promises. I wonder if not trusting anyone is the only way of keeping my soul safe!
I hear echoes of sinister laughter of my God as he watches me battle with my life every second and every minute of every breath that I take. I close my eyes and I see him looking at me, enjoying every struggle that I make.
Your God might be your savior but mine is a puppet master who gets off on tragedy and heartaches. Maybe that is why all I have ever felt was the pain.
They read my poems and ask me if I'm depressed. But I don't know what to say for I'm not sure if I know the answer to their questions, I'm not sure by depression what they want me to say.
So I ask them what it feels to be depressed. Is it the never-ending void that demands to be filled with poems and stories of the pain? Or it is a stranger that makes a home inside our mind and becomes our friend?
I don't know if being happy with sadness makes any sense. But it is easier that way, to wake up in the morning not expecting to have a good day. It's comforting to set out on a journey without a hope of finding your way back home!
- Karishma Yadav
May 29, 2019
May 29, 2019 at 6:43 AM UTC