Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mohit mishra Jul 2016
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
Àŧùl Jan 2016
My classmate from high-school,
Roll number 57 - Mohit Kamboj,
Is the coolest & the most freaky.

I have not seen anyone as awesome,
In their give & take with the teacher,
He made the class laugh effortlessly!
I was in Kendriya Vidyalaya (Central School), Karnal for my high school years and it was here that I made friends with some unforgettable people.

I miss each one of them.

My HP Poem #957
©Atul Kaushal
Surbhi Dadhich Mar 2018
Mohit! Why the hell is this plastic still here?
You're like unconscious every moment
Don't fade away your funds, stocks and shares
I'm the lord and you're unfortunately a slave
Mohit is a boy among thousands
Who still hears the melancholy of machines
He's also suffering from the only cash
Since childhood till now he's a teen
A boy with chronic and seasonal hunger
A boy deprived of love and education
Just a skeleton sticking to malnutrition
He's still now involved in some substitution
"Oh my sweetie! Would you tell me where you live?"
Asked a kind cop after seizing the factory
"I...I.....I Sir..." Unable to speak
Mohit is now in orphanage
He's uncomfortable with other teenagers of his age
Couples came and observed him
Who would adopt an unfair, shabby child like him?
People passed by
Years passed by
Time slipped away
Mohit was lost in his own grief and pain
Checking his behaviour
Officials transferred him to the mental hospital
His sight is most common weeping and sobbing under curtains and behind rolled carpets..
Mohit mishra Jul 2016
(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
For original poem which is in hindi
See my previous post
Mohit mishra Jul 2016
(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
Mohit Kalwadia Apr 2012
i remember the day when i saw you for the first time....,

i thought i am seeing you for the last time.........



but no,you met me again and again......

each time you made me feel i am born for you to gain.....



the way you looked at me that day......

made my heart to fly away and away......



everything was going fair......,

and love was in the air.....



but suddenly i dnt know what happened to you.....,

about Me,

you changed your view......



there was a day when we use to read each others eyes.....,

and this is the day when we both want to rid off from each other lives.....



i just cant believe that you are the person who made my world go round and round......,

because now you made my world go down and down.....



you know it very well that i never begged love from you.....,

because i never expected in return from you......



you know it very well that i never forced you for anything....,

but then too you insulted Me without thinking........



but never mind,

i am happy that you came in my life as a special person .....,

because you are the one who  teaChed Me life's greatest lessons.....



the only wish is ,i want to see you happy forever....

but yup.....,

now i made my heart to fall in love never......!!!!!



-by MohiT CristO KalwadiA
Mohit Kalwadia Apr 2012
There was a star in life
agreed, it was much loved
when it sank, it did sink.
Look at the sky’s vastness,
so many stars have broken away
so many loved ones it has lost
the lost ones, were they ever found?
But tell me, for the broken stars
does the sky ever grieve?
That which is past, is gone.

There was a flower in life
which, I doted everyday on
when it dried, it dried away.
Look at the garden’s breast,
dried, many of its saplings have
welted, many of its flowers have
that which welted, did it ever bloom?
But tell me, for dried flowers
does the garden create an uproar?
That which is past, is gone.

There was a cup of wine in life
which, you gave your heart and soul for
when it broke, it did break.
Look at the winehouse’s courtyard
shaken, where many cups are
fall, and merge with the ground
that which fall, do they ever rise?
But tell me, for broken cups
does the winehouse ever regret?
That which is past, is gone.

Soft mud, we are made of,
wine drops do tend to fall.
A short life, we have come with,
winecups do tend to break.
Yet, inside the winehouse
there is a winepot, there are winecups.
Those, struck by intoxication
do splurge away on the wine.
He’s a raw drinker,
whose affection escapes no cup,
one who has burnt from true wine
does he ever shout, or scream?
That which is past, is gone.

By- Mohit Cristo Kalwadia
Mohit Suhasaria Sep 2014
yesterday i went to hell
it was filled with pain
yet no sorrow
only a tragic path to follow

left alone with a shattered heart
mortified by the one i love
with tears was the vision blurred
a cry within as never heard

wandering for sanctum
i reached a hearth
it was in fact
the warmth of your smile.

- *Mohit Suhasaria
to my bestest friend...
Mohit Suhasaria Sep 2014
Down the pasabag
stood a young monk,
according to the lore
not aged more than a score

his austere temple
radiated the twilight,
a mere glimpse of the scene
could lead to the unseen

you could ascend
or just quietly pass by,
so i went to him and asked
what is it that he was tasked

he simply smiled and said
my task is to spread peace,
not to the world
but to myself.
- *Mohit Suhasaria
Peace

— The End —