Author Archives: Parneet Jaggi

About Parneet Jaggi

Parneet Jaggi teaches English in a Post Graduate college in India. She has four collections of poems in English-" Beyond Words" (Writers Workshop, Calcutta, 2018), "Show me How Not to Grow" (Cyberwit, Allahabad, 2017), "Live Love Light" (Writers Workshop, Calcutta, 2014) and "Euphonies Of Heart And Soul" (Cyberwit, Allahabad, 2013). Her poems have been published in journals like The Enchanting Verses International Journal, the Taj Mahal Review, Contemporary Literary Review India, The Criterion etc. Her books, "Matthew Arnold and the Bhagavad Gita: A Study of His Poems" and "Social and Economic Values in the Teachings of Sikh Gurus" reveal her love for religion and philosophy.

Waiting for the Gift


Denatured by the patriarchal umbrella

Cannot breathe well,

peepal tree trying hard

to transfuse sufficient oxygen

but  lungs do not let enter.

Invisible cobwebs strangle tight

stifling all passages of air.

Artistic rapture seems a tale of last birth

the verve faded away-

to write,sing, dance,

sway with the breeze,

flow with the wind,

feel the drops of rain

 on the parched face,

watch the rarest birds

compliment nature .

Will wait

for the gift

of another birth

to tune with the chords of nature,

to feel the zest of being a human

in the dichotomized world of

“Let her live”

“Let her not live.”

Climbing a Hill


Climbing a hill

 mind drew beautiful pictures,

 Ensnaring beauty of the sky

I was close,

Grandeur of pine trees

 shaded with a perfect hand,

Cool breeze tickling the face,

Tiny droplets teasing the skin,

 A Journey to relish

 reaching an el dorado

 glittering as a jewel

 I always wanted to adorn myself with,

 Climbing was a pleasure

shins ached yet lent a joy,

 Reached well in time

 Before it was the dark of life,

 now no air

 live without oxygen. 

 On the lofty hills of love

 carry a special heart

 designed to beat like the one

 not the millions. 

I Think of You…


When hands tremble

and refuse to lift the requisite loads of life,

When legs shiver

and refuse to take me to places,

When eyes feel the pain

due to the dust of life-

Invisible yet irking,

When brain is clouded with a grey haze

not letting light inside,

I think of you

who will adore me without these,

Embrace me in the dark of my life,

Hold my finger to help me tread

the remaining path of my life.

A Dramatic Story of Humans


Humans were
he-men
High-men
Heaven men
All was true.
Now they are hue-men
coloured with shades of ego,

It is a world of the minds
wanting to subdue more minds.
The real ‘we’ disappeared 
somewhere amid the clouds.
We sit in meditation to find the lost ‘we’.
Mind takes over
to see the existence evaporating repeatedly. 
Humanity now
is a story of minds
not of existence.
Ideas proliferating like cells in body,
Seemingly outweighing oxygen in the air.
A dramatic story of humans,  the superior race.

An Appetite

All through the sunny days of childhood

I kept nurturing my brain

Looking after the minutest needs

Toning it with the best lubricants

To excel in tasks given to me

Flattering it with all buttery phrases

So that it gives me all the pleasure

the world asks for.

Poured in almonds

Tuned it to the finest stores of knowledge –

To find one fine morning

That it had its reins tied to the heart

That would not listen to its pleas-

Logical and empirical.

Heart measuring distances

Finding ways to squeeze them

To grab them

And keep in its wrist

Deciphering new scriptures of love

Hidden in sands of time.

Wanting to unravel

All that the world does not want

Lest its pursuit of pleasure is hampered.

Heart knows no petty pleasures

Carries an appetite

For ecstasies

Rare and unfound.

What is Lost? No Idea


Gyres of thoughts

Spiraling up and down,

Rottening the whole being

Earned in births,

Karmas and sanskaras

Like coins of gold and silver,

Rattling,

Awakening the being from slumber,

Thoughts intoxicating

to sink deep into the abyss,

Where one can’t find oneself

What is lost? No idea.

Mind can think

Heart can feel

What is lost? No idea.

Senses perceive sumptuous sights

so full of life.

What is lost? No idea.

Pain of a Koel

How would a man know
the pain of a koel
singing doleful melodies on a branch?
Its shrill piercing the skies
shoving all other birds to the ground,
Its words stirring
the deep rooted rocks of the sea,
Breeze carries the heaviness
of the plaintive voice,
Sun pacified in its intensity.
The pain of separation
of a tiny koel from its lover
spreads like an uncontrolled cyclone
drenching trees around
to invoke blessings from heavens
to let a glimpse at least.

Journey of the Heart

The entire gamut of knowledge
flew away in smoke,
When pangs of separation
clasped hands and feet,
shackled in thick chains
with innumerable needles,
piercing through the delicate skin
to declare all other things perfectly futile.
Such is the journey of the heart,
Not many travelers on side
moving on in camaraderie
of subtle souls,
Nodding silently at the selection,
Books of facts refuse to reveal
the roadmaps to such journeys.
Heart draws its own roadmaps,
Colours it with myriad emotions,
Invents its own signboards,
Departs from the roads of life
to sketch its own passages
on the arc of the heavenly rainbow.

 Surrender

 Surrender

The preconscious debts

aggrandize the realm of karmas,

Nature holds the neck tight

Expeditiously dragging one

to obey its orders.

You scorn and it berates,

whips hard enough to make you weep.

One cajoles

Falls at the feet

Addled

Not knowing being dragged for which karma!

It adjures to let know the reasons at least,

for acumen fails.

But ways of destiny stay abstruse.

Compunction leads to nowhere.

One has to bow the head low

So low that the need to comprehend remains no more,

Needs remain no more.

Surrender is the ultimate poultice.