Author Archives: Maaya Dev

About Maaya Dev

Maaya Dev is an Indian based poetess and an economics graduate. Her poems have found place in several national and international anthologies and journals like Episteme, Criterion, Langlit, Anthesis, Eternal, Wings, Forever, Change, The Significant Anthology, Aquillerelle Wall of Poetry Book 5, Umbilical Cords, Kaafiana. She is a winner of Delhi Poetry Challenge – Kaafiya Contest 2015 and a short story winner Seasosn 1 at StoryMirror. She is a contributor at many reputed poetry sites and won few poetry contests. She is also conferred with the title of ICOP Critic of the year 2015 at Destiny Poets UK( An International Community of Poets). Her debut anthology ‘SHIMMERING CHIMES’ got published by AUTHORSPRESS Delhi, in Sept 2015.She blogs at maayas-musing.blogspot.in.

White Vs Red

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Winter night was young

In the concert hall I was among

Everyone seated in a row so calm

Awaiting moments were so charm

Slowly the heavenly music surge in

Transporting the mood in full swing

All the poems escaped from my clutch

Hugging all musical notes of bunch

 

Suddenly bullets started flying

With aggression of war planes prying

It torn fleshes with ghastly vengeance

Making bloody fountain of arrogance

Some lucky breathed the last instantly

While some held as hostages constantly

The unlucky ones lay badly wounded

Facing death in the hour of terror bounded

 

I was one of the few unhurt physically

In world’s eye I am one of obvious lucky.

True!  I escaped the targeted horrid attack

Yet none of the bullets missed the aim or tact.

They pierced aptly many hearts and souls of

And the so called lucky ones like me thereof

Though wounds are invisible and lacks blood stain

But bleeding profusely gifting an eternal pain

 

I wonder where we are heading..

Whether we are led or misleading?

Does ‘Red’ of blood so tempting

Or ‘White’, the colour of peace so disgusting?

 

Seamless evolution from human to beast

Massacre of innocence, the revolution of feast.

Masked human’s hobby in ghostly attire

Outburst of carnage but not a satire.

 

Each moment we live with fear is not life but death

For psychotic to adorn with bullet wreath.

How long peacemaking slogans survive?

And whom we are waiting for us to drive?

 

Until we dare to re-wire the system with wisdom

Harmony can’t be reign in life’s kingdom..

Until we remain coward and show tolerance

We will witness more tragedies with intolerance.

 

© Maaya Dev 2016 Jan

 

 

 

 

 

Ballet of Danseuse

Ballet of danseuse
encore on rushing clouds.
Downpour of silver strands
drip caramelised love.
A sudden thunder
knocked my isolation
thus piercing the shallow heart
with unexpected lightening.
Veiled moonbeam
chaffed fatty clouds
and entered smoothly
to my moonless heart.
My shrouded spirit
forlorn and exposed
broken like crystals
on exiled ground.
Joy unlocked over smile
like a humming lyric
to dance upon water lilies.
Monsoon sieved through
into the crevices of memories.
Stolen moments unearthed
petrichor of forgotten days.
Ballet of danseuse still encoring afar.

(c) Maaya Dev

 

Moment of Momentum

It is the moment that is alive

It is the chain of moments

that holds life in its subtlety

and often glide not so smoothly.

It is the moment that introduce you

to who you are and what you are

that makes you pause and breath

and gift you a thousand lives

in the form of dreams

in the fabric of moments.

It is the impulse of moment

that catapult things and we lurk

where joy dance like summer shine

and tears fall like autumn leaves

and in the monsoon rain

you drench like memories

and sprout like Brussels plant.

 

In the spur of moment you feel

chiselling and crafting of moments

when emotions toggle, feelings dribble

you meet with the void

where silence speaks aloud

where words surrender to its power

and vacuum fill in the infinity.

 

In the moment of momentum

Everything happen and nothing happens

Everything exist and nothing exists

Every moment is life disguised in death

It is in the moment of momentum

Life compiles answers for all questions

and leave us astonished.

 

© Maaya Dev 2015 Dec

 

December A Bumper

Winter, the special guest

Makes December a bumper

Hazy wings of breeze

Welcome snow fairies

Merry go around.

Tress shivered, leaves shed.

Buds hibernated in petals sweater

Birds are silent in tranquil valley.

Frozen rivers turned tantalising stages

for ice skaters to have ballet of season.

Nights are cold but stars are bright

The chilly air sings jingles

For Christmas is on the way

Santa Claus is on its reindeer

Christmas carol heard everywhere.

Chocolate cheese cake is baked

And ready on the dining table

While lying on my cosy couch

I wait, I wait and I miss

the warmth of my beloved

like some hidden sunrays

beneath a winter coat.

 

© Maaya Dev 2015 Dec

Love Cajoling at Vrindavan

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Bank of Yamuna, spring eternally embellished.

Lover’s dais an adorned amulet frothing in love

Love notes playing on perfumed petals of lute.

Horizon blushed in hush seeing the charisma

Dusk with vermillion pride hanging on the west.

 

Moon savour Yamuna’s dancing waves of joy

Night stood metamorphosed like a dream.

Green wood tranquil, tamed leaves non fluttering

Humble breeze unfold magic mantra in hour’s spirit.

Heaven perched upon Vrindavan as a bough

And the habitants’ left in spell bound.

 

Vrindavan yielded to Lord Krishna’s fervid Leelas.

His footprints kiss sands and imprints sing keertan for him.

His pranks on Gopis, moments of supreme celebration

Such fiesta they foster as caprice and love to indulge more

Unconditional love of Gopis an undisputed renowned truth.

 

Radha , the true love and shadow of Krishna

Love stricken ethereal beauty of Vrindavan

Often hides her presence playfully in the bushes

To invite Krishna’s blissful apparitions to get lost

in his sudden embarrassing embrace of love.

She forgets self in those elated soulful moments.

 

When her soft fingers touch His peacock feather

There is rainbow harvest on the bluish sky.

When Krishna caress her tresses romantically

Her anklets and bangles giggles in ecstasy.

When Radha’s honeyed lips kiss His Murali

Shivarangini Raaga flows as Ganga everywhere.

 

Whole Vrindavan exhale their love saga

There is a melody in the mesmerising love.

Glory of Radha and Krishna touch the sky.

It chimes on the clouds and reach Devalog.

 

Away from all crowds, simple and divine lass Tulsi

Surrender in devotion as garland for Krishna

To remain on Krishna’s chest as Srivatsa forever!

 

© Maaya Dev 2015 Dec

 

Foot Notes

Vrindavan : A Hindu pilgrimage site, especially in referenced to Lord Krishna

Gopi _A sanskrit word meaning ‘cow-herd girl’. Having unconditional love for Lord krishna

Leelas – A sanskrit word which means play

Keertan – Devotional hymn

Devlog – Heaven

Murali – Flute which is Lord Krishna’s favourite instrument.

Tulsi : Basil leaf which is  considered as a sacred plant.

Srivatsa  –  It is a mark on the chest of Lord Vishnu where his consort Sri Lakshmi resides.

( Krishna is considered as the reincarnation of Lord Vishnu)

There Is A Thrill In The Frills Of Poetry

There is a thrill in the frills of poetry

Emotional fragrance is the ultimate lyric

Spilling feelings on the verses throughout poetry.

 

Downhill flows a stream of dreamy poetry

Twilight drop moonlight in the forms of limerick

And words of pebbles transpire into pearls of poetry.

 

Beneath in dusky water, star dust of poetry

Shimmers in misty mood tossing joy of a Marverick

Celestial hails chimes in the summer rain of poetry

 

There is a thrill in the frills of poetry

The quill that writes ballad, an epic

On the ocean bed of a poetry

 

© Maaya Dev

Confession of a Monk

A monk is lying on his death bed.

His transient moments filled with a last wish.

Before life bid adieu he wished to have a confession.

A confession of being a monk!

 

You called me – ‘a monk, a sage, a saint’.

But I have hiccup an utter guilt

An abhorrence of these nouns as taunt

With chocking breaths impatiently I am waiting for my last.

 

A sudden ignition of erudite vision broke the fortress

Erasing all notions between a monk and a human being

On nomadic trajectory wore and worn out attire

Peeling illusions one by one from wrinkled skin.

 

New found wisdom defines human being

Glorifying Free-Will in a nut shell

 

Even the Almighty never put any hamstring

to thy swirl of myriad temptations.

Lustrous human desires never spared

for the monk in me often consumed

the so called sins shielding as excuses.

 

Deep down in burdened silence going on

arguments and counter arguments

resulting in paralysis of analysis.

I fled and shun the ironical echoes.

 

Mask of saint plunged

When all preaching failed

The lie I was living buried alive.

From the grave it mocked back like a ghost.

For I am back to square one with the stark truth..

 

Today I am laughing and telling the story as a layman

Whilst discarding all bifurcation of zenith and nadir.

The realisation liberated me with an ultimate truth

And I remain on my death bed with shallow breathes.

 

As quanta parallels the dualism

Oh desires! To live, have the doping of foul play!

 

“Let me die as human being and not a monk” !

 

The candid confession of a dying monk

escaped the cage of mortality

when he breathed his last..

 

© Maaya Dev

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once I Go Forever

I called you in my thoughts

You heard it or not I don’t know

I speak to you in my loneliness

You listen or not I don’t care

I hold you in my prayers

You feel it or not it hardly matters

I love you from my heart

You appreciate it or not I never asked

I care for you till my last breath

I wish you know this, once I go forever!

 

© Maaya Dev

An Ode to Keralam

Beneath southern sky an emerald shimmers

A tiny trinket jingles on earth from God’s crown.

Nature condensed heaven in a speck of land.

Keralam- God’s very own country

Perfectly nestled between powerful knights

At east, lush Western Ghats mountains

At west, pretty guardian angel Arabian Sea

Amidst, Keralam lay soulfully in nature’s cradle.

 

She is picturesque; a soliloquy spells magic in its milieu

In the green paddy fields folklores chuckles and sings

Zephyr carries seductive mud smell of uncouth farmers.

Moody monsoon shrugs and welcome flamboyant sunshine for Onam,

The Crème de le cream, the harvest festival of extravaganza.

It immerses in mythological essence and uplifts seasonal mood.

 

Exotic wild lives and bird sanctuaries dwelling in duskiness

A tempting fad of desired indulgence happening in serene solitude..

In the mould of turrets rich plantations nourish and flourish.

High ranges – an overwhelming glimpse in the misty background.

These panoramas and aristocracy blush in the locale as bliss

Or rather a true poetic musing and chivalry of the rustic place.

 

Tantalizing golden beaches and long coastline depict portrait

where fishing on tamed and wild waves a delightful sight.

Sensuous curvatures of rivers write lyrics on shorelines.

Sparkling lakes showcase glamour on its pristine water.

Spectral lagoons woo millions to its isle where twilight rests.

 

The gorgeous backwaters stretch tranquility on velvet banks

‘Kettuvallams’ reign and ferry tourists on silken curls of waves

Venice of east – the royal host treats guests on its slender lap.

Coconut flavoured cuisines melting on taste palettes wanting more.

Tourists devour the serenity in retrospect and steal a bit of it.

 

Beautiful temples and colourful festivals inscribe ornamental charm

Rich culture, traditions, ethnicity are ethos of the southern soil.

‘Kathakali, Kalaripayattu,Vallam kali, Trichur Pooram, Ayurveda’

Mirrors true heritage and pronounce rich legacy of Keralam.

 

Keralite’s nostalgia is etched and enlivens as everlasting phenomenon.

Wherever they go they bear a piece of Keralam within their heart.

An epilogue they flaunt it on their sleeves so dotingly and proudly.

 

© Maaya Dev

 

Footnotes: –

Kathakali- Ancient classical dance drama form

Kalaripayattu – Ancient martial art form

Vallamkali – Traditional boat race using Snake Boat

Thrissur Pooram- Famous Temple festival of Kerala

Alappuzha ( Allappey) dist of Keralam known as Venice of east is a hot backwater tourist spot.

(Being a Keralite I proudly present this ekphrastic poem about Kerala for all poetry lovers. I tried my best to portray its beauty, richness , ethnicity and culture. Hope you would enjoy this piece of work and share your sincere opinions)