MEMOIRS OF SEPTEMBER

Dazzling days and radiating nights,
cool breeze and pigeons’ flights,
bring along her fond memories;
As if conjuring scenes into sight.

Drifting white clouds in the blue sky,
and staring star lit sky, by her side,
for the balances, praising the Almighty;
Satiating my senses sitting beside.

Her dropping voice and feeble ways,
compelled both to accept the hearsay,
every September offers me mementos;
Gazes and gestures of her last days.

By putting my head once on her lap,
woefully called to get out of her nap,
pleaded her to listen and to look at;
But trance didn’t allow and she wrapped.

Still longing for those talks, fairly long,
that still carries lingering effects along.
I still wait to listen, ” Is everything fine?”
And I still want to say, “I am fine, Mom.”

Copyrights reserved : DrNikhat Bano
New Delhi, India, 4/9/2015

Where angels love to tread

When I look at the faces of people
Who are being eaten up by life-threatening diseases,
My heart, like chaff gets blown by the wind,
A deep emptiness encompassing its profundity,
Leaving my mind agonized.

I think of the peaceful resistance of Bach and Beethoven,
To all blatant lies, hypocrisy and debauchery,
The idiosyncracies popping up like mushrooms,
And the serenity of their feelings
Sifted and softly sieved of all dirty particles.

My belief in life is renewed
And my wings take me to Mansarovar,
The highest body of soft water in the world.
I swim and all my troubles evaporate
Leaving me bright and light to taste
The achingly true facets of life.

I listen to the ebb and flow
Of emotions in my heart
And think of Mozart and Einstein,
The geniuses who knew how to hide
Those feelings that hinder man
From elevating his spirit
To a higher plane.

I live naturally ever after,
A world traveller and star gazer
Championing human ideals,
Forging that path where
Angels love to tread.

pramila khadun

Aroma

Aroma wafts around
In (soul)search
Of smelling hearts;
Connecting the two edges
Poles apart.
It tells a moving tale
Of true love
Unsaid and untold
Portrayed well
On the canvas of life.

Essence of love–
Shiuli* breathes her last
To relive in soul:
It soothes grieving hearts
Wherever it lies,
Its beauty and aroma
Will never die.

*Night-flowering jasmine

Another Take

Such was the existential bearing on me
that
Inspite of seeing you
shrouded in darkness –
Night loving tree

I sequestered myself away
from my own
And, saw
My silence
Dangling down the leaves

bearing silently
on the tree
all lonely fruits –
ripe
for the survival of my verdant dreams
consuming night after nights
and
another take

And when your lips touch mine

And when your lips touch mine,
A stimulating gaiety spreads around.
I see the sky in resplendent
Rainbow colors.
I am transported to those realms
Where minarets sway
And church spires like stars twinkle.
I get lost in dreams sweet.

You touch the domain of my dainty dreams
Creating great moments of epiphany.
I look at the clumps of jasmine bushes,
The coral-pink roses, the vibrant blue-bells,
All kissing each other while the wind
Holds for a while, not willing
To disturb the passionate kissing.

With your calloused hands,
You touch the strands of my hair
While I revel in the joys,
In the moment-to moment feeling.
Our primeval instincts aroused,
With love-dusted wings, we fly
And continue kissing amidst the clouds.

You look at me in the eyes
Drawing me closer to you.
I feel like a pool replenished
By a joyously cascading
Waterfall of beauty rare.
I am swept off my feet,
My heart skips a few beats
And my womanhood gets infused
In the charms of magic.

pramila khadun

Last Fall On My Summer Night..

from the shivering cold a summer tow
a smiling sun with the shimmering glow

a thrill underneath the heat drawn
from the depth to suffice the moan

the breeze on the summer day
touches with a caress that stay

lingering in every inch of my skin
bestow a smile on each lip in a grin

time pass to the last leaf, it will fall
an illusion of dimensions behind the wall

creating a fantasy world of my own
where summer blossoms could have grown

waiting till fall is done on my summer night
to soon feel the embrace of summer light

when mysteries of hounding thoughts gone
to clear the sun after the rainbows are done

in fondness let me hold your hand so tight
until the last fall on my summer night

in surrealism art:

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A Stranger Returns

” We meet again!”
the Stranger said,
the one I’d never met before,
sat alone at the pavement cafe
he asked me if I would
like to wallow in nostalgia with him;

I said I didn’t reminisce
much these days though I
occasionally enjoyed a fond memory;

Ordering an espresso,he spoke
of his parents and the War,
I interjected with academic achievements
and holidays abroad;

He said he couldn’t remember them,
though he was sure he’d seen me
once whilst in Amsterdam;
I said I’d never been and whoever
it was he saw it wasn’t me;

Finishing his coffee the Stranger got up
and turning to me said,
there was only one other time he was sure
that he’d seen me,
curious,I asked him when?

In the bathroom mirror
that time I hesitated
with the cut-throat razor
and fear in my eyes..

Author’s footnote :-

The reader may also wish to read my preceding work on this subject, ” Encounter with a Stranger “.

Tell them I love them

Tell them I Love them

I love you. You do not seem to understand.

I really love you, as I hold you in my hand.

I cannot make you love me back,

I want to bless you in your lack

Of everything you think you need.

To get there,  you must let me lead.

 

I love you. I’m so thrilled that you’re alive.

I love to watch you as you strive

To be my witnesses, fulfil those tasks.

Come together, release those masks.

Love each other from the heart.

Be My Body in every part.

 

I love you. I want you to know

I trust you and I understand

Just how you feel with every blow.

You’re small, a grain of sand.

But I love you. Little I would not do

For you to love and trust me too.

Tanu,My Sister

A lily truth herself, a soul so pure,
who gets amused just by the sight,
of humble lilies of her courtyard;
Swaying during day, smelling during night.

You’re a monk of your cloister
contemplating with your lilies;
These simpletons are glorified
by your pristine presence and your smiles.

Every spring, news of its first bloom
she shares with people, she loves;
Every time overpowered by ecstasy
when she counts their blooms.

Love you for the simplicity you’ve,
adore you, as you’ve many folds;
May the stardust rain over your lilies!
Paint them all from peach to gold!

You’re an oasis in the desert of life,
your aura has gilded your lilies;
You’ve given them reasons to smile
without you, they’d have been just lilies.

They’re as thrilling as their fragrance,
and you’re a sober queen of your mansion;
These peachy pages are from your almanac.
May your reign lasts, forever in your Sahn!

Copyright (c) : DrNikhat Bano
All rights reserved
April 10, 2018

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