Author Archives: pramilakhadun

About pramilakhadun

I am the holder of a Bsc degree in Food and Nutrition from S.N.D.T University,Pune,India.Have taught this subject in a private institution for almost thirty-five years.Currently, I am retired and travel alot with my husband Raj, daughters Dr Rajnee and Priyum and son Airline Captain.Had my first book of poetry published by Minerva press, London and other two in Mauritius.More coming soon.I love poetry and enjoy reading poems of poets across the world and I feel Destiny Poets is the right place for me.

Crumble into cosmic dust

She could no longer decipher

The architectural designs

Of her feelings.

She felt like a green seaweed

In a tumultuous sea.

Her self-contained look vanished

With a sudden downpour

Of calamities unfathomable,

Insurmountable, which nothing could elucidate.

Tied in a spaghetti-like tangle,

She listened to the beats

Of her heart’s misery.

Her eyes moistened

And she thought how

The pristine scintillating beauty

Of her heart had been defaced,

The immaculate tenderness

Of her soul turned to charcoal.

Rose replete with thorns,

She was stripped of the rose

And left with the thorns.

The music of her finely tuned instrument

Disappeared, never to come back again.

Left with the loathsome notes

of the eulogy of pain,

She looked at the pale ethereal moonlight,

Sipping the honey of solitude in quietude.

Serene and solemn,

Plunged in a sea of silence,

Caught between two polarities,

She allowed herself to crumble

Into cosmic dust.

pramila khadun

My childhood window

Like so many,

I have never struggled

To bring back youth that was lost,

For, I moved not from my childhood days,

So full of songs of innocence.

Peeping from the frames of an antique

Slow-moving dead past,

With faded torments,

Self-indulgent pity,

I saw a toxic political era,

A sea of scandal,

Where leaders for life view state assets

As their own cash cows

And place gains in international banks

While their poor people starve.

From my river of silence,

I saw men and women,

Hearts parched up,

Sinking slowly in the mire of depression,

Brutalized and victimized,

Standing the test of time,

In the world of collective tangling.

Playing with the butterflies,

In the grassy plains,

With scents of morning shrubs,

Pursuing my dreams

In the world of Superman, Batman,

Green Lantern, Green Hornet,

Spider Man, all connected to green,

I got transported to time and space.

I again opened the window

Of my childhood days

And I saw the fury of aerial bombardment,

The endless treadmill of violence and war,

Seventy thousand men raped

In a year in one land,

Three thousand lives lost in a single war,

Sirens wailing, women and children crying,

Babies fastened to the beaten

Leather breasts of their mothers.

I closed my window,

Never to open it again.

I talked to my teddy bears

And they cried for me.

They held me in their arms

And together we cried.

They burst the boils in my heart

To drain the painful liquid away

While our ship cut

Through the waves of the night.

pramila khadun

Mama, I am not dead

Mama, I am not dead, I am alive.

I know your love for me will always glow

Like paint on canvas.

With neither respite nor getaway,

You worked hard and watched me grow

Just like the gardener watches the rose.

But the rose blooms and dies Mama

And the gardener is not saddened

For too long a while

For he understands the wheel of life.

Mama, I was putting the foodstuffs in the barrow

To be taken to the supermarket’s shelves.

I do not know Mama how the fire

Broke and within seconds, all was on fire.

I wanted to run away but couldn’t.

I saw no windows, no doors, no friends.

I was alone, desperate, gasping for breath.

I called for help, no one replied.

I cried Mama! Mama! please save my life.

My clothes were on fire, my skin charred,

Flowing away with the fire.

My heart ached and slowly,

I surrendered to death.

All the pain and the deep agony vanished.

Angels came and saved me so lovingly.

Now Mama, I am in heaven

Where lilies bloom innocently.

Heaven is too beautiful Mama.

If the world had taught me words

To describe the beauties of heaven,

I would have told you about it dear Mama.

Mama, go home, do not wait for me

Near this supermarket, for you won’t see

Neither my bones nor my ashes.

Go Mama, be love, give love to all.

Be the light that you always were.

We will surely meet one day.

I love you Mama.

pramila khadun

Will our children’s children forgive us

When my village cradles me in her embraces warm,

And the pink and mahogany leaves

Whisper secrets sweet in my soft ears,

We dissolve in one another

And I think of how to bridge

The religious and cultural differences,

The disparity of treatment

Between white and black,

High caste and low caste

And the rich and the poor.

I think of the Latin American poets,

Pablo Neruda, Frederico Garcia,

Lrca, TS Eliot and Sylvia Plath

And the beauty of the ink

That flowed from their pens

When they wrote about peace and love.

I look at the cave drawing of a bison,

The herd of cows closely followed by the shepherd

From one meadow to another,

The cardamom plantations

In the mountains of Kerala.

Time stands still and I come

With a tryst with naked reality.

Pain untold is a remedy on its own,

Said Mirza Galib.

But today, I want to tell of the birth

Of feelings which have grown in my womb.

I feel like Hemand Sahib in the Himalayas,

Here, where the tenth Guru Gobind Singh ji

Did his meditation, diving deep in his inner self.

I think of the wars and their disasters,

Spine-chilling, heart-rending stories

Of mankind, his revolt and his defeat,

And his helplessness vis-a-vis human tragedies,

I think of the wisdom of ancient men and women

And the way they treated nature

With care and concern, love and respect,

I think of the atrocities children are undergoing,

I think of the natural calamities

And I say to myself,

‘Will our children’s children forgive us?’

pramila khadun

As true as a naked woman.

Pain

Lessons to learn from the eagle

An eagle will never fly with sparrows or ravens.

An eagle flies with an eagle.

The parrot talks lots and flies less,

It reaches not the altitude close to the sky.

The eagle, however, reaches the great heights.

The eagle stays focused on the prey it wants to catch.

It concentrates on its action with perfect judgment

And when it lands down, there is no crash,

For with a smash, the prey, however big, is in its mouth

For the eagle fears not the size nor the position of its prey.

when storms arise, all birds hide in a secured place.

The eagle, dauntless, taking advantage of the winds

Will fly higher, braving the winds and soon after

Will glide freely, enjoying the heights and the winds.

Gliding graciously, it saves its precious energy.

The eagle is not a scavenger, eating away dead and stale stuff,

Or the rest overs already torn and ravenously eaten by others.

Its food is freshly caught, still alive and delicious to taste.

It is proud, confident and concerned about its health.

When a mother eagle has to prepare its young one

For flying, it starts removing the soft grass from the nest,

Thereby eliminating the coziness of the comfort zone.

The young one is pushed in the emptiness

And the first lesson starts her, though tough

Under the supervision of the visionary mother.

However, with age, the eagle grows weak

And yet, it cannot accept weakness at any cost.

It retires in a remote region, not to die but to rejuvenate.

It bites away its claws and removes the old feathers with its beak.

It waits until new claws grow and fresh feathers appear.

Once ready, it meets new challenges and touches the sky.

pramila khadun

Just when

Just when he was about to kiss me,

A soft wind blew gently

And the candle’s light was gone.

‘In the darkness, kisses are sweeter,’

He whispered in my ears.

I was slowly being transported

In the world of love.

I could not reply.

I was almost fainting in his arms

While time was slipping like sand.

I could feel the sensual ecstasy

Of a poetic adventure, explorer of love,

Tasting the juice of love.

Like the Cedar tree, evergreen,

I looked at my wide spreading branches,

So close to the cherry blossoms,

Performing their secret ministry.

The moon was in her full splendor

And music was reverberating

In all the cells of my body.

I listened to his gentle breathing

And looked at Picasso’s cubist paintings

That bewitched me beyond measure.

We were in a thatched cottage

In the lovely valleys of Cashmere

Where the vibrant colors of Spring

Danced in the darkness

With a complacent smile.

We went out to feel the rain

And feeling the rain,

We got wet with love.

pramila khadun

Poets

Poets are the humblest among the humble

Whose hearts overflow with passion and love.

They walk like princes, always loving

Kind and compassionate and so sure of themselves.

Explorer of mankind, beyond and below

The reigning civilization, they believe

In the interlacing of cultures,

The oneness of humanity and its inter-connectedness.

With extraordinary linguistic zeal,

The innumerable guises, they portray

The success and failure, pleasures and pains,

The emotions and tensions of man,

Thereby producing oeuvres of great luminosity.

Visionaries par excellence, their impassioned

Writing with magnificent horizons, characterized

By clear intelligence and humanistic integrity

Brings light where there is darkness,

Hope where there is despair

And love that exerts a far-reaching influence

With a wealth of ideas and artistic power.

Poets speak out the voice of God,

They are the channels through which flow

Love unconditional, truth pure and compassion com passionate.

they are travelers of time and space

And their deep and layered poetry

Slipping like sand through the hour glass

Dawns comprehension in man’s mind

With the rhythmic dance of words

And a charismatic touch of spirituality.

pramila khadun

Because

Because I staggered, I learned to walk majestically,

Because I stammered, I learned to talk royally,

Because I Struggled, I learned to live with dignity,

Because I surrendered, I survived victoriously,

Because I drooped down, I learned humility,

Because I persevered, I learned the value of work,

Because I loved, I learned the value of friendship,

Because I treated my rags with pride,

God gave me the riches

Because He knew

I would treat them with humility.

pramila khadun