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Sharina Saad May 2013
Mrs Sharma is looking busy
Walking back from her yoga class
In Her right hand a bag full of potatoes
In her left hand, 2 kilos of onions
Its a freaking hot day in Delhi,
She stopped a taxi and hurried home
Aloo paratha her family's menu for today.

At home she went straight to her kitchen
Peeled and boiled the Potatoes
finely chopped Onion, coriander, ginger and chillies
Now where is the garam masala?
Here you are Mrs Sharma,
Salt Red Chili powder, Garam masala and some butter
Aloo Paratha with lots of butter,YUM YUM
Lunching at Sharma's home is Splendid
better than Mahesh Lunch Home in Juhu, Andheri.

Let's get started says Mrs Sharma
Let's make the dough
Make two chapati
add the filling to one chapati
and cover it with the second one.
Now Mrs Sharma rolls it slightly and heats it in the oven...

Let's ask Mrs Sharma,
Is food the elixir of life?
Yes very much she said
She feels like she is living for it.
As she spreads butter over the paratha
She says her mantra twice,
Eat healthy but don’t over eat.

She serves aloo paratha hot to her smiling kids
adds yoghurt to Mr Sharma's plate
she is so proud when she says to her family
Eat in moderation and eat healthy..
Smile and let's eat Aloo paratha Mrs Sharma's way...
Aloo paratha is my late mom's favourite..
Two Bulgarian poets entered “The Second Genesis” – Anthology of Contemporary World Poetry – India’2014
Poems of the Bulgarian poets Bozhidar Pangelov and Mira Dushkova are included in the Indian project “The Second Genesis: An Anthology of Contemporary World Poetry”. Bozhidar Pangelov’s poems are: “Time is an Idea” and “…I hear” translated by Vessislava Savova; as for Mira Dushkova’s poems – “Beyond”, “Sozopolis” and “The Girl”, they were translated by Petar Kadiyski.


For the authors:
Bozhidar Pangelov was born in the soft month of October in the city of the chestnut trees, Sofia, Bulgaria, where he lives and works. He likes joking that the only authorship which he acknowledges are his three children and the job-hobby in the sphere of the business services. His first book Four Cycles (2005) written entirely with an unknown author but in a complete synchronous on motifs of the Hellenic legends and mythos. The coauthor (Vanja Konstantinova) is an editor of his next book Delta (2005) and she is the woman whom “The Girl Who…” (2008) is dedicated to. His last (so far) book is “The Man Who…” (2009). In June 2013 a bi lingual poetry book A Feather of Fujiama is being published in Amazon.com as a Kindle edition. Some of his poems are translated in Italian, German, Polish, Russian, Chinese and English languages and are published on poetry sites as well as in anthologies and some periodicals all over the world. Bozhidar Pangelov is on of the German project Europe takes Europa ein Gedicht. “Castrop Rauxel ein Gedicht RUHR 2010” and the project “SPRING POETRY RAIN 2012”, Cyprus.
Mira Dushkova (1974) was born in in Veliko Tarnovo, the medieval capital of Bulgaria. She earned a MA degree from the University of Veliko Tarnovo, and later on a PhD in Modern Bulgarian Literature, from Ruse University Angel Kanchev, in 2010, where she is currently teaching literature courses.
Her writing includes poetry, essays, literary criticism and short stories. She has published several poetry books in Bulgarian: “I Try Histories As Clothes“ (1998), „Exercise On The Scarecrow” (2000), „Scents and Sights“ (2004), literary monograph “Semper Idem : Konstantin Konstantinov. Poetics of the late stories“ (2012, 2013) and the story collection „Invisible Things“ (2014).
Her poems have been published in literary editions in Bulgaria, USA, Sweden, Hungary, Croatia, Romania, Turkey and India. Some of her poems and essays have been first prize winners of different Bulgarian contests for literature.
She has attended poetry festivals in Bulgaria, Croatia (Zagreb) and Turkey (Istanbul and Ordu).
She lives in Ruse – Bulgaria.

For the Antology “The Second Genesis”:
In the anthology titled „The Second Genesis“ are published the poems of 150 poets from 57 countries. All poems are in English. The Antology consists of 546 pages. “The Second Genesis” includes authors’ and editors’ biographies and three indexes: of the authors; of the poem titles and an index based on the first verses. It is issued by “A.R.A.W.LII” (Academy of ‘raitɘ(s) And Word Literati) – an academy, which encourages literature and creative writing and realizes cultural connections between India and the other countries. Four times a year ARAWLII publishes in India the international magazine for poetry and creative writing „Prosopisia“. Its Chief Editor and President of A.R.A.W.LII is Prof. Anuraag Sharma. He is also author of Antology’s Introduction.
Participating Countries:
Albania, Argentina, Armenia, Australia, Belgium, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Brazil, Bulgaria, Albania, Great Britain, Germany, Greece, Denmark, Egypt, Estonia, India, Iran, Iraq, Ireland, Israel, Spain, Italy, Jordan, Canada, Cyprus, China, Kosovo, Cuba, Macao, Macedonia, Niger, Norway, Pakistan, Palestine, Poland, Puerto Rico, Romania, Russia, Saudi Arabia, USA, Singapore, Syria, Serbia, Taiwan, Tunis, Turkey, Fiji, Philippines, Finland, France, Holland, Croatia, Montenegro, Czech Republic, Chile, Sweden, Switzerland, Scotland, South Africa, Japan
For the editors:
Anuraag Sharma – editor and president of A.R.A.W.LII
Poet, critic, author of short stories, translator and playwrighter, Anuraag has to his credit the following publications: “Kiske Liye?”, “Punarbhava”, “Audhava”, Dimensions of the Angel: A Study of the poetry of Les Murray’s Poetry “Iswaswillbe” – a collection of short stories, “Setu” (“The Bridges”). He has also co-editor the volume of conference papers: ”Caring Cultures: Sharing Imaginations. Some of his recent publications include: “A Trilogy of plays”, “Mehraab” (“The Arch”) – translations of selected poems of four Canberra Poets, “Papa and Other Poems”, “Sau Baras Ka Sitara Eik” – translation of Andrew Parkin’s “A Star of Hundred Years”, “As if a wooden house I am”- translations of Surendra Chaturverdi, “Satish Verma: The Poet” and “Tere Jaane ke Baad Tere Aane as Pehle”. He is also editor-in-chief of two international journals – “Lemuria” and “Prosopisia”. Currently he is working as a Professor in English at Govt. College “Kekri” Ajmer, India.

Moizur Rehman Khan – co-redactor, project manager, secretary of A.R.A.W.LII
He studied Urdo and Persian Literature in college and later on competed his master degree in English literature from “Dayanand” College, Ajmer, India. He completed his research dissertation under the supervision of Anuraag Sharma on “Major themes in the poetry of Chris Wallas-Crabbe”. He is a creative writer. His poems and articles have been published in various magazines and journals. Currently he is teaching English at DMS, RIE, Ajmer, India.
References for the Antology:
“No middle no end, the poems in The Second Genesis have been speaking to you long before the beginning and will continue without you…don’t worry, its binding has long since unglued, its pages, worn and disheveled, will always be speaking to you, they’ve been compiled this way, to be read out of order, backwards, shelved or scattered in an attic between the coffee and greasy finger stains…The Second Genesis is the history of the Book where you become its words, ink and pulp.”
Craig Czury

“The Second Genesis is at the crossroads of a new poetic becoming. a poetry claiming its second beginning not only for art but the heart pulsating and feeding the entire body. This anthology is a successful fusion of unique, inimitable and polyphonic poetry, a well-organized improvisation with a solid and flexible structure.”

Dalia Staponkute

“The Second Genesis, a compendium of world poetry which is also a poetry of the world, suggests so much a new beginning as it does a recognition of the ongoing creation that continues to animate our collective existence. Our precarious era requires a global affirmation that we are all in this together. Poetry has always said as much, and here it says it again, in the idioms of our time.”
Paul Kane
**
“Visionary and international, The Second Genesis, introduced and edited by Anuraag Sharma, sparkles with poetry of insight, intelligence and feeling and is an indispensable reminder of our human aspirations and experience in the early 21st century. Poets from nearly sixty countries rub shoulders in this ambitious and wide-ranging collection, and their poems resonate and mingle in a multi-layered voice. It is the voice of our humanity.
In his Introduction, Dr. Sharma points to the invaluable importance of poetry in what he calls our destructive Lear era:
Beyond the Lear Century, across the 21st Century lies the island of Prospero and Ariel and Miranda and Ferdinand – the region of faith, hope and innocence, the land of virtue, and all forgiveness sans grievances, sans regrets, sans curses. The doleful shades lead to pastures new.
We must weigh our hopes. The Second Genesis is at hand….”
Diana Sampey
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Anushka Sharma wearing in Manish Malhotra's Lehenga Choli Designs. This cream colour looks elegeant on any complexion. Covered with sequins and beads graces up the beauty. Bottom is richly adorned while her Backless Choli is crafted with lots of pearls and beads, comes with Net see through stole with silver sequins scattered all over. The Color of the product may differ from that shown on your computer screen. The difference in color is mostly due to flash, monitor or camera settings. The images shown are only for reference.Anushka Sharma wearing in Manish Malhotra's Lehenga Choli Designs. Cod india
Ksjpari Aug 2017
Never behaved in the school porcine;
Had wise words for everyone to opine;
Full of wise thoughts and memories refine;
Rachana Sharma is ready without any supine.
An eyesore progress she achieved school in
Even the trustees could no longer decline;
Her help for others whenever did she design
Was a feast – a great help and fun to dine.
For 8 years was she my dear mentor fine
From whom I learnt how to continuously grin
In adverse situations and start from begin
So that new fight and efforts lead you to win.
Earlier she was looking like a pumpkin
But now she managed her past confine:
Looking beautiful, smart, nifty and divine
Is ready ever any problem to define.
She is my inspiration, she is my Kline,
She is the best lady as a helpful friend in.
With her I developed Monorhyme fine;
And defeated many enemies malign.
A good mentor and nice for nation mine
Is none than Rachana - a brave feline.
I am developing a new style of writing poetry where ending words of a line rhyme with one another, at least in last sound. I named it Pari Style. Hope readers will like it. Thanks to those invisible hands and fingers which supported and inspired me to continue my efforts in my new, creative, artistic and innovative “Pari” style. Thanks for your inspiring, kind, soft fingers.
Nikunj Dec 2012
out from school we came to jmc,
to become what our parents wanted us to be.
with NC we enjoyed harrapan and vedic civilization,
Ashima mam taught us Transition ( paleo to noelithic).
writing 10 sides answer seemed IMPOSSIBLE,
15/25 only left us numb.
coming for hindi at 8:30 was really irritating,
mam's msg of cancelling the class was even m
ore *******.
Tues and wed 8:30 were scolding days,
since frustated JS splited her anger on us.( though i like her lot)
om sai ram and gandhi was KN's department,
though antique, she was another inspiration.
enjoyed Montage for the first time,
Chronicle was the accomplishment for the lifetime.
first year ended so rapidly,
90%ees were satisfied with 60s.
then we met the iron lady of our department (chaddha mam)
she asked questions after every second point.
RS Sharma got replaced by sultans of delhi and Satish Chandra,
every notebook had words like sufi, bhakti and Iqta.
transition frm feudalism to capitalism muddled our heads,
Dobb and Sweezy never left us till the end.( remember jha's ******* :P)
enjoyed boston tea party and civil war in States,
though never understood out of khiljis and tuglaqs- who is great?
****** taught us stress, depression and suicide,
we almost got killed by Bronte's Wuthering Heights!
Orcha trip was another milestone,
Khajurao sculptures turned all of us on :P
pool party with "tinku jiya" was superfun,
each one of us made good connections.
Second year also got over and we entered in our own little world- T9.
everything was new to us,
future tension always bothered us!
Journey to China and Japan with Chakko was great,
though we never grew intellectually and understood decline of Shogunate.
Gazala mam introduced us to napoleon and bismarc,
became our friend. guide and mentor.
Chadda mam took us to royal court of mughals and rajputs,
but Iqta and jagir still confuses us!
Sleeping time came with menon's class,
18th cent and 1857 always bored us. (though i admit she is a great scholar)
we stopped studying and started enjoying life to the fullest,
since history taught us no matter what Peasant is the one who will be suppressed!
Montage 2012 rocked,
DJ Aqeel's ferrari left us in shock!
Postponing and preponing the classes was 3rd year's trait,
petty fights over it were always great.
Since first year we all wanted this day to come,
to wear saree and have FUN.
BUT....
the Farewell day has passed :(
From now onwards... NO cancelling or preponing classes, no prof to scold us, no NSS hours to complete, no deadlines of tuts, no canteen's samosas and macroni, no diwali mela, no Montage and Chronicle, no Ashok bhaiya, no ******* and commenting and last but not the least NO HISTORY HONS 3rd YEARS (2009-2012)
No one realised how these beautiful 3 years passed away.our eyes are wet but heart is content.
just wanted to tell everyone that i will miss you all. though i may have not interacted much with everyone, but I wish you all the very best for your future...

So superseniors,
leave all grudges behind and enjoy the last week of your college life at JMC to the fullest
Àŧùl Mar 2017
The beautiful baby girl here,
Whom I hold without any fear,
Is named Anushka Sharma.
Don't get too much puzzled,
Only that the names are same,
Nothing to do with the actor.
And you know what,
She doesn't have a weird duck face,
Her heart is plain without makeup.
The baby girl I have held in my arms is also named Anushka Sharma. A beautiful Indian actress with the same name also exists.
The 5 am poem. Saturday, 18th of March.
My HP Poem #1464
©Atul Kaushal
judy smith May 2016
When you don't want to say it in words, let your actions do the talking. And we're talking about celebrities' relationships here. It seems that the words 'we are just good friends' is also passe. Nowadays, even a selfie with your lovely other half says it all. So, while the media can hound the actors everywhere they go for that one quote to admit to their relationship, the B-Town folks choose to do it in their own style. Most commonly, they walk hand-firmly-in-hand to events, parties and premieres — pretty much confirming their 'couple' status. Recently, Salman Khanmade a grand entry at Preity Zinta-Gene Goodenough's wedding party with Romanian model/actress Iulia Vantur and everyone went into a frenzy. They didn't walk in hand-in-hand, but well, that day doesn't seem too far away. Though at a recent event, when asked about his marriage plans, Salman siad, "It's between me and my fans." Iulia too shared on her phto-sharing profile that she's "in no hurry to wear her wedding dress." Here is taking a look at other celebrities who walked the red carpet together, and soon after walked down the aisle.

Despite the strong buzz about a relationship brewing between Bipasha Basu and Karan Singh Grover during the shoot of 'Alone', both actors kept mum about the reports. It was only when Karan was promoting his second film that he conceded that Bipasha 'is special and very dear' to him. Every time the media questioned them, the two actors consistently kept quiet about their relationship. At the same time, they never shied away from posting pictures of them, while going on their holidays.

Even when reports of their wedding plans made news, the couple at first denied them but soon confessed that April 29 was indeed the day on which they were tying the knot.

Yuvraj Singh and Hazel Keech

Indian cricketer Yuvraj Singh annouced at teammate Harbhajan Singh's wedding with Geeta Basra last October that Hazel Keech was the woman he'll spend the rest of his life with. A month later, when they went holidaying in Bali, he popped the question with a ring and she accepted. The two are said to be tying the knot later this year.

Kareena Kapoor Khan and Saif Ali Khan

While the public may not remember 'Tashan' best known for Kareena Kapoor Khan's size zero figure, she and Saif Ali Khan would never like to forget this film. It was during the Greece schedule of this film that the two fell in love. Though reports of their affair made news, they remained non-committal to the media. Until they walked the ramp together for her friend designer Manish Malhotra at a fashion event in 2007. That was the first time Saif told the media that they were a couple. Later, he even got her name inked on his left arm. The tied-the-knot on October 16, 2012.

Maanayata and Sanjay Dutt

Married twice before, Sanjay Dutt made known that Maanayata was the woman of his life when he walked in with her at an awards function in January 2007. A few days later, on January 11, 2007, he told a tabloid that he and Maanayata had a secret wedding at his house on November 19, 2006. However, after the news spread like wildfire, he went in denial mode. Their registered marriage in Goa on February 7 a year later became the subject of controversy, as they weren't residents of the state. A couple of days later, they solemnised their marriage vows as per Hindu rites.

Virat Kohli and Anushka Sharma

When the reports of Anushka Sharma and Indian cricketer Virat Kohli being a couple appeared, the two went in overdrive denying the news through their spokespersons. It was Virat who first revealed the relationship when he tweeted after watching her film, "Just watched #NH10 and I am blown away. What a brilliant film and specially an outstanding performance by my love @AnushkaSharma. SO PROUD:)" Even as they continued going steady, they didn't concede their relationship to the media until they walked in haathon-mein-haath at a fashion event July 2015.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-brisbane
judy smith Aug 2016
'Kabali' and 'Badlapur' actor Radhika Apte will be the show-stopper in the upcoming Lakme Fashion Week in the ‘Gulzar’ collections of a prominent Kolkata-based fashion designer.

“We have been working with Radhika since 'Majhi the Mountain Man' days (2015) and she will be flaunting our fabrics as show-stopper in India’s premier fashion show which is keenly followed by Bollywood," the well-known city-based woman fashion designer told media after a fashion show in a city hotel last Friday night.

The Lakme Fashion Week is a bi-annual fashion event with the summer-resort show taking place in April while the winter-festive show is held in August.

This year the winter-festive show will be held from August 24 to 28.

Radhika will be wearing bright-colored lehenga since the show will be focused on beautiful India, it’s colours and contours, choreographed with the poetry of nature by Amir Khusro, the designer said.

“It can also be termed our tribute to a great name like Gulzar saab who has brought our lyrics and poems to a new level,” the designer Saroj Jalan said.

The signature style of the designer, whose works adorn Bollywood actors like Radhika beside well known models Lisa Sharma and former Miss Universe India winner Ushoshi Sengupta, is delicate floral patterns along with the use of Zardozi and array of hand-woven tusser silk and velvet enhancing the experience of the garments and “we will project the same in the Lakme week where the accent is on ethnicity,” designer Saroj Jalan said.

Supermodel Ushoshi, having recently debuted in the Bengali film 'Egoler Chokh', said “Lakme show reflects the different tastes of all leading Indian fashion designers who are still rooted to Indian heritage.”Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses
Àŧùl Mar 2016
The match on Sunday was matchless,
For Ozzie lost to India with grace,
Indian players snatched from them,
Indians stole the victory so easy,
But it just seemed easy in the end,
Each one of the Ozzie hurlers,
Couldn't even ask for the water.

Virat - great was the beating!

And to be credited is just not Virat,
Anushka Sharma is equally credible,
Had she never broken up with him,
Virat Kohli would still be distracted,
Against ultimate opponents Ozzies,
Our team stood not a single chance,
If not for his sweet vengeful courage.
The match was awesome and Virat Kohli performed wonderfully well!

I have figured it out that as a young man myself, I should never let the girl overpower my emotions because she is a normal human being too. She's pretty imperfect.

I always sought perfection, in this world it's nowhere to be found.

Virat, the Sanskrit word means huge or great in extent.

My HP Poem #1044
©Atul Kaushal
Chandan sharma Sep 2010
Glorifying amidst the snowy mountains bestowing
rivers  with a splendid shine searching a land
to shower its warmth in a dense grassland,
sun rises with the dawn
like  the spring blooming life in the lawn.

Cold on the cemetery lay like the corpse,
the flower in concealed corner of the lawn.
Life rejuvenates it to exhibit its charisma.
With its exquisite grace,
life fills the daffodils
blooming merrily in the meadows
with the exotic flush of odor enchanting thee .

Life of seven ages leaps and exits slyly like a stranger.
Neither the witty nor the wisest nor do the philosophers
can bamboozle the fate, neither can they preconceive
the lot ,the fate has in store in each slot
hence live the life with fullest enthusiasm and zeal,
the chariots of life bridging
the expedition between birth and rebirth.

Struggle the chill like a gladiator
stand undeterred by the worldly woes.
Life is symbolization of bluebells,lavenders
hedychiums planted on a deserted road,
blend of happiness and agony .
Surrendering to agony is pure escapism.

Each has to surrender on the altar of death
a day or later ,
but till life why not worship the life
like an idol enshrined in the temple
so when thee are asked of
satisfaction in the heavens high
thou may not quote "alas it could have been a day later"
rather thou may be the most enlightened
devotee to stay in the state of bliss and utmost salvation.

Men say life is mortal
But life is eternal you see,
the life is like a divine cascade of holy waters,
one drop dies ,other rejuvenates to life.
Till the nature lives, shall live
the men and generations yet to come.
Life is pouring like the nectar from the heaven's brink,
quite insane it would be to not drink the summary of life.

                                                          ­                         BY CHANDAN SHARMA
Sunil Sharma May 2017
Bring your empty words
I will re-charge them again
And make them potent;
The hollow words---
Bring them to me and
I will make them sing,
In the summer afternoon
On the glistening lips of
The workers in sweat
Working on construction sites;
Bring your faded words
I will make them shine in the forge
Of blacksmith whose sinewy hands
Will form them into forms that appeal;
Bring your sad words,
I will make them smile
On the faces of war-orphans
Street children
And cancer patients,
Because when sterile words
Of poetry come into contact
With unsaid suffering of the
Larger silent humanity,
They become fiery,
Gleam,
Mesmerize and
Truly become
The sweat-soaked words and entire syntax
Great transcendental poems!
@Sunil Sharma
Towards a new poetics
Donall Dempsey Feb 2021
A HERD OF LEGENDS

( for Shyam Sunder Sharma )

always in the background
of my mind I am

hearing
listening to

the ananda-lahari
of Arun's voice

speaking to me
in best Kolatkarese

as I ride
his KALA GHODA

to the outskirts of
JEJURI

and there dismount
walking barefoot

into the town
of his mind

bowing before
his words

this here
this now

drinking his voice
thirstily down

to the very last sound
marking each syllable with turmeric

offering the ashes
of anything I can say

I the humble havildar

to the temple
of your thought

until you take a final drag
from a half bent charminar

flick it from fingers
laugh...tell me to. . .

"****** off!
Go on...!"

"And make
a poem of your own!"
Sunil Sharma Apr 2017
A few drivers,
mid-summer afternoon

lean against the divider,
paint peeling

some perch on it lightly---
indulge in hot group-talk;

the waltzing-shadow
of a banyan tree
opposite side of the
auto-rickshaw stand---

a street-art, delicate, dark-hued;

the phantom arms
hug
the disparate crew
in a tight family-embrace,
its breath tousling their hair

and it---
protects them from
the Mumbai heat!
@Sunil Sharma
A real scene witnessed and then embellished.
Sunil Sharma Apr 2017
Fox
---Sunil Sharma

Here she eyes
the poet and the photographer
hiding in the bush
or lurking somewhere

or, maybe behind
a glass-window shut
like a typical ******.

pointed ears pricked up
eyes glittering but not cold
as depicted in a horror tale

the bushy tail---fan and broom
to clear the muck around

the long snout primed up
for unusual smells
especially---
of two-legged threats

the lady fox
much demonized
in the human world
free in the wilds
like a bird

ready for the ramp-walk
in the jungle,
her---daily theater!
About encounters different. A poet friend saw this fox living in the bush, Australia and sent the picture clicked by him---that pic, inspiration for the poem.
Sunil Sharma May 2017
The disembodied
Voice from the
Sisters’ counter
Echoing down the twisted corridor:
Ma left yesterday. The house, no house.
Wanted to do the night duty.
At least, got some company here.
@Sunil Sharma
Randhir kaur Sep 2016
With your satiny hairs,
You amble without a normal foot.
But with a pristine look,
Your big eyes shines luminously.
Dear, Maybe people call you a handicap,
I call those bullocks a madcap.
Interestingly, what, I am a handicap mentally, here I reveal.
Everyday I fight inside the close door when night falls.
A few days ago your eyes have cried a lot,
Let me clear here, you are a daring person.
It gives me a reason to fight with his servants openly.
You are a bizarre, I don't know you Monica Sharma.
Though we did not shook our hands at all,
But whenever these eyes squints you,
A new story creates a History...
Its very weird we do not know each other but still can relate my past with you and your name itself was a blow to me. This write is not for sympathy but my respect towards you of what you are. Though you are not different but extraordinarily different in your swag.
Kisi apne ki yaad dilati hain aap..
Paridhi Sharma Apr 2014
The place where the seed was sown
The place where a dream began
"The Place"

A story started, a long one
with numerous characters but scripts none
Some bonds were made, some relations too
but inseparables were only few

'The Place" where this race began
----the mesmerizing war----
Gifted with the endless well of knowledge
To give my best, I pledge

Meeting the most wonderful beings
Some giving a monkey pose
And some with a pig nose .

Exploring new limits, finding new ways.
To get this once again,
I'm ready to pay.

The time of my life spent here,
Can never be expressed in words-mere.
I regret the inability to stop the time,
And bring back this sweet lime.
#school life
                                                             ­       -Paridhi Sharma
C P Sharma Mar 2010
one fine spring morning
sitting in my chair
newspaper
in hand
basking the sun
in front of my eyes
a scene thus run:

a sparrow perched
on nearby neem tree
sailed to my verandah
and sat on the sill,
in front a looking glass
a while she sat still
a little thoughtful
a little perplexed
finally she was
bitterly vexed.

her own image in the glass
she couldn’t tolerate
to beat it with her bill
at the glass she knocked,
so madly she did drill
as if ‘the other’
she would ****.
in doing this
she broke her beak
all over the beak
the blood did spill,
ignorantly her own
she couldn’t bear
mercilessly her own
with her own beak tear.

frequently she visits,
she now understands,
she comes with her company
but I never saw the repeat,
she and her company
seem to have known
the harmony in Nature
to places they have flown.

WE ‘the roof and crown of things’
spill blood of our brothers
some times on 9/11
in US and fly
again in Jaipur and
Bombay high.

How long will go on this ****** trail?
When will the harmony in man prevail?

C. P. Sharma
Copyright C. P. Sharma
Published on PoemHunter.com
Paridhi Sharma Mar 2014
Give her a chance, give her a way
And she'll fly high
high in the sky
living all her 'dreams' out,
the 'dreams' that she gave up,
to nurture you..

She is the creator,
And the power to destroy
lies within her.
She is your strength, but
her value you don't understand.

Never does she resigns,
neither does she complaints.
She lives in this small world of hers,
doing all the work day in and day out.
And then carries the burden of
" WHAT DO YOU DO ALL DAY?"

Her capabilities you can't reach
her love you can't measure.
her strength exponentially higher than yours....
But her value you don't understand.
Stronger than a pillar, she bears
the dependence of one and all.

With due respect,
I bow down and salute
to your royalty, your loyalty
and sheer love and greatness
So, I'm proud of me
to have understood, maybe partially
the value of you,
the greatest entity
"MOTHER"

                                                                              -Paridhi Sharma
Anshuman sharma Aug 2015
The dawn surrenders to the broad daylight,
Asks; would you yearn for my return and not lose sight;
It's the hour the gods wake;
Would be a sin,to let go of the blessings so eternal;
Like the oceans and the skies.
(The reply)

The daylight surrenders to the evening twilight
Asks; would you yearn for my return and not lose sight;
You're the hope from many lives
A warmth that eases yet magnifies
For damp drenched spirits, a shrine.
(The reply)

The dusk surrenders to the night;
Asks; Would you yearn for my return and not lose sight;
The wandering little birds must perch on a haven called home
As they chirp drawing attention upon the tangerine sky,
For you, are their sole guiding light.
(The reply)

The night surrenders to the first morning light
Asks; would you yearn for my return and not lose sight?
You're the lone playground, lovers don't hide
The shy and the heroic hop on the same ride,
For you are their harbor and respite.
(The reply)

(Copyright) anshuman sharma 2015
C P Sharma Mar 2010
I am in the river Nyle
In the Ganges water that never defile,
In me there is no guile
Perfect clean is my profile.

In your snow flakes I am
I am the scent of its snow,
I am their soothing grace
With my warmth they glow.

Earth and sky are my home
In love bower I bloom,
I shine in all shades
My brightness never fades.

Just in the blink of an eye
I cover countless miles,
When I sit down to write
What I sketch are your smiles.

C. P. Sharma
Copyright: C. P. Sharma
Published on PoemHunter.com
Àŧùl Apr 2013
They have a wide choice
To pick any sharp-pointed
Tool to slice my neck with
Or to stick in my stomach.
But no!
I know that they won't be
Satisfied hurting me ******
And so they took to words
Or simple boycott they've.
...Their weapons...

Unluckily they were once my friends
And I had set afire the newest trends
Improvising & exploiting my ways,
Which they follow until these days.
And lo!
They forget me - they forgot me
They have forgotten my words
For I wasn't their teacher ever
Nor would they ever become
...Atul Kaushal Sharma...
My HP Poem #151
© Atul Kaushal
Sunil Sharma Sep 2017
On a power cable
trembling
before the wind
that plays havoc with trees and tiles
of cottages and hovels

a typical feudal lord, violent
power-drunk, indifferent;

Up there, on that throne---

sits a lonesome Kingfisher
regal, haughty, detached
from the ground zero

a visitor from the far-off heavens

a pleasing sight
on this rushed
Mumbai early- morning.

a creature, tiny, vibrant
dressed in  a multi-coloured coat
worn earlier
by an agile harlequin
doing acrobats in an Italian court,
for the seventeenth-century audience;

the feathered guest
lightly sitting
on that high perch

a stoic
silhouetted against the
immensity of a dark-grey sky
threatening rain.

@Sunil Sharma
About nature, bliss, birds
Anurag Sharma Jun 2014
Something calm
Something soothing
Vigorous dark
Surrounds smoothing.

Tonight in evil clutches
There caged my sense,
Like pigeon’s first flight
My swift and dense delight.

All stars having their query
Twinkles like murmuring together
As if they recall my past hours
Fairy Venus twinkles to me some more.

You are not a bard in conscience,
You were never fair in Love remarks
Reckon follies of your worthy mind,
Find your heart in flames and sparks .

Fair Moon chide me not,
No guilty am I but that love knot
That early lost the strength
I lost there my lot in affections.

Here lay I, in torturing sea shore
In slopes of tough pebbles,
Frequent thoughts or blustering bubbles!

I glared you constant Venus
Constant with swollen eye *****
In Midnight flow of sea or tears!

Until you fade away from my sight
Until its orange sun light
Until that chirping diverges my mind.

*-Anurag A. Sharma
Àŧùl Oct 2019
Me
I am a qualified post-graduate engineering degree holder from NDRI Karnal now and I am trying to complete a PhD program. I completed my Bachelor of Technology degree in Biotechnology from MDU in spite of a terrible road accident that imposed a partial physically challenged state on my life. I already wrote one inspired by my life till the 4th semester of my B.Tech degree and imagining the extreme consequences of the unfortunate caste-based (instead of the only economic criterion) reservation fiasco which are about to take place now.

I am guilty of wasting my precious time in the untimely search for love. I wrote about it in a creative form.

It also has some situational poetry in English and Hindi apart from few dialogues in languages other than English.

You will be surprised to know how accurately I predicted the fuel crisis and the protagonist named Akshant Kautilya Sharma does his research towards developing better supplementary fuel to help the economy.

Akshant’s search for love ends in a girl who loves him since their childhood days.

Akshant Kautilya Sharma teams up with an unlikely ally to defeat the hijack attempt by the currently only-fictitious anti-caste based reservation system terrorist organisation named Shuddh Rakt.

Amazon.com: 7 Seconds: A Typical Guy, Atypical Life eBook: Atul Kaushal: Kindle Store
Ask me for the link to my novel.
THE RETURN OF DUM MAARO DUM
(for Driftwood aka
Shyam Sunder Sharma)

She dances
upon her tippy toes

upon my toes
whirling 'bout the room

to DUM MAARO DUM
she my little Bollywood queen.

"Again...again....again!" she squeals
mad with childish delight.

Asha sings to us
and we...dance!

Sunlight throws itself
at our feet.

We dance upon it.

Summer gasps
holds its breath.

There is nothing but
the music....and us!

She is all
of three

screaming: "Bollywood me...Bollywood me!"

"This...won't....get the dinner done!"
screams Mum above the fun.

The record screeches
and scratches ...ouch...off!

I cut cucumbers
into tiny tiny pieces.

Tilly washes spinach and lettuce.

But when Mum
goes to answer the phone

it's her best chum
she will be hours

we sneak Asha
back into the kitchen.

The return of. . .

"Dum maaro dum
Mit jaaye gham
Bolo subaha shaam.

Hare Krishna hare Krishna hare Krishna Hare Ram!"  

*



Such a superb composition by RD Burman. Asha Boshle's voice that perfect creature that it is and matched to Zeenat Aman. Back then we had no idea what it was about only that big father and little daughter couldn't help but compulsively dance anytime the song came on...it was such a joy and we never tired of it.
Paridhi Sharma Mar 2014
The world of wisdom
the world of wealth
where people come and go
but one fine thing persists forever

The world runs for it
lives for it,works for it
but it moves on from anywhere to anyone

Beings cry for it
steel,****,fight,suffer and die for 'it'
One big universe with
infinite population
and infinite things to desire
BUT
in this huge world
its demand persists forever.

It gathers the attention of one and all
the care,need of all
But it itself is "no entity"
"A man-made creation"

Just a one fine creation
being chased by the whole wide world.
                "FUNNY"
Few have it infinity
rest not even its shadow....

This greatest creation
ruling its creators
     "MONEY"
   ---silly isn't it .

                                                                           -Paridhi Sharma
Anurag Sharma Jun 2014
Mute Nature
But I hear you,
Your smooth silence
Mute Nature.

When a mass of dews from a leaf
Awakens your calm and vast surface,
I do listen your naughty ripples
Walk around to the banks of lake.

When a lover in beloved’s praise
Hail you loud in mountain ways,
I do stay there waiting
To listen your every echo whenever raises.

When warm air gets your leaf
To lose its withered root,
Though its falling sounds very mute
I do hear there her separation grief.

I hear all fish locking their lips
And swans in pond waving thin throats,
I found a place of deep peace sips
Soothing to my eyes where snowy couple floats.

Oh when you rain,
My homeland covers a blissful layer
Of fragrant soil and water’s blend
Then you adds your chilling winds
That touch and pass through my nostrils
Like I just feel your real incense.

You are mute, Nature
But I hear you,
Your smooth silence
Mute Nature.

*-Anurag Sharma
Àŧùl Jan 2015
It's not just about me,
It's entirely about me.

AKS's Collection it is,
Atul Kaushal Sharma's Collection.

Nobody knew it is so,
And nobody could ever even tell.

Not a secret anymore,
To the world, it's an open invitation.
Jonathan Moya Mar 2020
Aye, chihuahua, canis familiaris,
land piranha nipping at Aztec heels.
 
Aye chihuahua!
 
Heart of a Techichi warrior
becoming yipping snarling *****,
eyes pulsating, patellas luxating
at the stench of **** erectus
US-es post-alus carrier-alopulus
approaching, adorned in
sky colors crowned in ivory pith.
 
She is fed on belly rubs and Kirkland’s
grain free turkey and pea stew
in the red can, served in a faux
Wedgwood bowl which she gently
mauls in her tiny maw with the
crooked right canine.
 
Queen Sharma is a diminutive avenger  
who brooks no men, except Daddy,
yet dotes in squealing delight
at the touch of women and children.
 
Her territory, a peed-on scent trail,
extends from Guinevere to Lancelot
to Tristram to Merlin to the end
of Camelot Lanes, Streets and Places.
Neither hated squirrels, rabbits
and other canine species are allowed.
 
She can neither jump on the sofa
nor forge mighty streams.
What she lacks in peripheral vision
she makes up for in astute echolocation
and good stiff sniffs of her nose.
 
Yet she has a deep dark secret
that stains her royal dreams.
The scruff under her neck to the chest
in the russet form and color of a fox,
which she struts with a rooster’s pride,
is the product of her Chi-Chi mater
cohabitating with a spritz of Pomerania,
making her neither chihuahua nor pomeranian,
but yes, an adorable pomchi!
 
Yet that neither bothers her nor me
as she paws at the bed covers draping the
leader of this pack, burrowing under to
be close to my side, and dream dog dreams
of walks and car rides and never leaving me.
of walks and car rides and never leaving me.
Carla Nov 2019
"Living the same year,
Seventy-five times,
And calling it life,
Is the greatest of crimes."

A paraphrased saying,
Of Robin S. Sharma,
Reliving a bad day,
And calling it karma.

Repeat; Repeat; Repeat,
Stuck on one word,
Repeat; Repeat; Repeat,
It begins to seem blurred.

Repeat; Repeat; Repeat,
No longer sounding of dialect,
Repeat has become faint,
The word has lost its effect.

It seems to be the meaning,
That the word has lost,
No longer sounding real,
This seems to be the cost.

The cost of repeating,
The same over and over,
Yearning for some luck,
A lucky four-leaf clover.

Nothing seems to help,
Stuck in this trance,
No escape is found,
That was my last chance.
Daivik Nov 2020
It was an exceedingly hot and sultry summer day in the bylanes of Kabul. Lt.Sameer Sharma had missed the chance of catching the prodigal engineer turned terrorist Abdul at the marketplace.But now he had an ace in his deck,the enigmatic Dr.Rizwan, a doctor by day and spy by night.

Here they were near a warehouse at a nondescript military base.Any second now,a glimpse of the adversary could be caught.

"Over there",shouted Rizwan,pointing his gun towards the massive box.As deftly as a cat ,Sameer slowly moved towards the box.It was a cat.

Another voice was heard in the floor above.It was Abdul.

He ran.

They ran.

It could all have been over in a minute.Years of espionage and intelligence work boiled downed to one chase.

They chased. A chance . The only chance.Four shots were fired.

They saw the corpse.They were jubilant."Finally" cried......


"Finally",cried Musa as he shared a smoke with Rizwan.

There laid the body of Lt.Sameer in a pool of blood.

Betrayal had never been more stylish.
                                                        ­                                                           The End.
Not a poem but a short story
Abstract Mar 2020
I'm on an escalator

It's a long one

It's too slow


The voices are in my memory

Endless chatter, laughter and footsteps

Oh silence please don't disturb my reverie


The darkness of the floor I'm going to

Is perturbed by the light of the floor where I was

Time carrying me away without my consent


There's life outside the window

I wonder why those faces are gloomy

Are their thoughts the same as mine


This place is artless

Colors are liars

All I'm left with is a sad monotone


A sad joke robbed my laughter

It's all meaningless

I don't want to feel like this ever again


I'm on an escalator

It was a long one

It was too slow


-Chaitanya Mohan Sharma
Jan Nov 2020
March 17th 2017
Wondering,
if the universe flinched,
when God took you away.

- Dakota

She walks with her head down,
Tucking loose strands.
Wishing heavens would pull her up.
Or if the earth could just
Open up.
She wished for flames to leap
And engulf her silently.
Or if the seas would be kind
Enough, and drown her.

None of the above happened.

Only three nights ago,
She heard the
Man she trusted with her secrets
Say
“It wasn’t you but me”
Her core was on fire
They fell down as tears

So much practice,
no use at all.
She holds on tight,
tears still fall.

She stood at that metro
Station,
Walking in circles
Aimlessly.
Overwhelmed, in
Thought.
Her mascara dripped
Leaving streaks
On her fine
cheeks.

“Sorry?” she gasped
Cold fingers
Brushed her arms
The audacity of
this stranger!
She was in awe.

“Are you.. okay”
She asked  

A different someone
This outsider was.
She really wanted to
Interfere.
Longed to wipe the
Former’s tears

Her brown eyes were refuge
to curiosity.
Familiarity and comfort
lingered in air.

Her shattered soul
slowly perked up.
Like a child facing
Christmas delights

And hopes might have
Been restored
If,
Caution tapes
Hadn’t been enforced.


The little collision,
Kept resurfacing
Playing over and over
Like a
Malfunctioning cassette

A small smile, began to peek
The heart broken girl
had killed it.
Obviously.
There was no way,
She was getting
Played ever
Never again.

Plenty of mishaps
Were at hand,
The Queen of hearts,
Had hers smashed.
Fooled by the court clown
What a scam.
No more chances
Will be given.

With all due respect
Look alike
Prince Charming’s
Were requested,
to rot in hell.




-----

Numerous days passed by.
No more than a courteous smile.

And then one day,
Numbers were exchanged,
plans were made.
Under the moon light, they laughed away
Mutual friends, acquaintances,
The friend’s friend, The friend’s dog
A party from two years ago,
Everything was spoken of.

Suddenly they were a team,
Inseparable they seemed

April 22nd 2018
Three sixty five days and a little more
since, the very beginning

In her arms
Wrapped tightly.
With each exhaling breath,
The rhythm played soft.
Their breaths hard, a little fast

She knew she belonged
right there.
Pressed against this girl,
In a fierce embrace,
Nebula gawked,
falling asteroids stopped,
"This is home" one said
And so it felt

The dyad knew
Fondness and love
Had followed
Them through

Hence
began a new chapter

Lady luck
was pleased,
Destiny beamed.
Stars were the only
Evidence
What a perfect
Symphony.


August 16th 2018

Suddenly they were
Far too gone,
Lost in an abyss,
Dancing a Languorous
Dance.  
Healing scars her
Exes carved
She fell in love
With this Girl.

The one who called
Her,
Her forever.


-----

Onset of late
summer drizzle.
Social controversies
Began..

“What a disgrace you’ve
Caused!”
Her father
thundered,
“What will Mrs Sharma
say!!?”
Her mother wondered.

Minds were made
An ultimatum
was declared.
Dramatics took
A whole new turn,

One other argument
Hidden behind the
Poised, hand knit
Kashmiri curtains.

October 16th2018

Two months since
The big emotional
Stunt.

What could they do,  
The Girls were
Confused.  

Afraid to lose their
Bond due to
So called ethical ways.
They fought, and
Fought.
Might have waged a
war.

A million paper cuts
Were all that returned.

December  1st 2018

It had been a year
And 4months since,
The LQBTQ law
had passed
Yet two woman
Were torn apart

One other love story
Lost a happy ending.
curtsey of a
“Modern civilization”

The battle was done
Dust had settled.

And thus ends
One other narrative.
this poem is set in India. In the year 2018. It's really. Hope you read till the end
Nitika Sharma Oct 2020
Take my Hand
while crossing  path
Leave the shadow
When it needs to part
Take my Breath
To rhythm your Beats
Leave my Heart
When it burns in Heat
Take my Love
to heal your scars
Cut the strings
when my soul departs

Nitika Sharma
insta@unutteredemotions

— The End —