( A collaborative story poem jointly composed by Nutan Sarawagi and K.Radhakrishnan )


I was born amidst the heap of money,
It was stuffed in our house in nooks and corners any,
People came with suitcases full of currency,
My dad accepted those bribes merrily.

Thus I was born with a silver spoon in mouth,
Loved by my parents, nothing was in drouth,
I was decked in gold when I was a year old,
I had so much I could not even hold.

When I was three, I got a tricycle,
On reaching seven it was replaced by bicycle,
When I was in High school, I got a shining bike,
I rode it all places wherever I did like.

When I entered college, I got brand new Audi,
To fulfill my wishes, my parents were ever ready,
But all those glitter of pelf didn’t spoil me,
I remained a good boy and money didn’t make me crappy.

I excelled in studies and passed with merits,
Though untold wealth I would inherit,
Left my city to join a lucrative job assignment,
There my dad bought me a luxurious apartment.

This story is so boring, you may complain,
All goes well and there is no twist or turn,
This is so bland and there is no thrill or fun,
But have patience, the story has just begun,

A job offer came from France,
That’s a dream job, in elation I did dance,
Indeed it was a great chance,
To garner fame, money and romance.

I accepted the offer with glee,
They wanted our family’s medical history,
I returned to Bhopal to get the papers happily,
Here begins my tale of stormy sea,

There were three bundles of papers,
All neatly tied in colored cloth wrappers,
The red one contained documents of property,
The green bundle had dad’s business papers put properly,

The white bundle had family’s medical papers,
X’rays, sonographies all in yellow wrappers,
Two such envelopes caught my attention,
Here my so far happy life took a turn’

Both envelopes had sonography reports,
Reading the contents inside tore my heart,
Written in code words I could decipher,
My eyes rained tears like a geyser.

Marked with F 00.45 and F 00.40, obviously the age,
The years were marked 1965 and 1967 in those pages,
To top it all the words “U SPENT”
Meaning the uterus has been cleared with intent.

The revelation had thrown me off the gears,
The foetus of my two sisters were killed in those years,
Those naked facts pierced me like thousand spears,
Oh!! my soul was cut in to pieces by shears.

How can my parents murder my two elder sisters?
The very thought gave me blisters,
Oh!! How can they resort to female foeticide!!
For want of a male child, they did my two sisters homicide!!


On their deathbed
they built for me this whole empire I was their vampire
in their blood drinking in my own desires
For want of a son
they killed my two loving sisters
In whose love I would have grown
in their legacy to live
to love and be nurtured

But this was the cruel truth of life
A blow dealt which such strife
My whole world destroyed
In front of my eyes
In my pyre
I could see myself burning alive
As they cried dear brother
we love you with our life
In you we live to see our own life

That day my life died

My whole life denied
Burnt to cinders
before my eyes

I couldn’t lift myself
For days
I struggled with myself
Finding answers
to questions
that had no meaning left
I lay wondering
Had I been them
My fate
would I have been
in the blood
of their fate
Life had left me
with no recourse
Broken I lay
Locked within
Breaking in

What a day
it stole my thunder …my life laments 😢
my parents blunder
How could they
kill my two sisters
For want of a son
My life surrender
on their bodies
their wealth
to plunder

It was they
who deserved
to be its heirs
Not me

I was made to lie
on their lair
Burnt in fun fare
The fire
which took them
Without a care
A life to live
gone in despair
Murdered in their foetus
Waiting to be born
In smiles
my two dear sisters
to hold me
in their arms
But fate took a turn
In them to never return

Killed in the womb

What was their worth
To build for me
a hearth
On their very earth

My whole life shook
the earth pulled
Beneath my feet
It hurt
‘Why were my parents
so keen
to have ME
unmindful of them
Distressed I lay thinking
Why wasn’t it me
Because they were just girls
Because I was their BOY
They worshipped me
in their death
to be born against me
sired in their love
A love that was
NOT meant
for them
but me

My whole world stopped
I hated to be
The cause of their death
Their curse in me
This thought plagued me
Day and night
I just couldn’t resolve within me
The more I thought the more it drew me
Into an abyss fallen in the dungeon built around me
A hollow sound ringing within me
My whole world
A sham
it lay
in shambles


I was blown away and stuck in a dumb daze,
Thinking how could my parents stoop so low in wicked ways,
Terminated foetuses continued to haunt me day and night,
Endless suffering of my soul from life long spite.

Thoughts of my sisters brought bottomless sorrows,
Wishing not to remain alive to see next morrow,
What worthy life have I built to live!!!
Oh, my beloved sisters, my parents cruelty, please forgive.

I was in a state of deep depression,
The thoughts haunt to kill my brain,
Oh, why I had this life at my sisters cost?
Without them in my life, my life is better lost.

I encountered my parents with evidence,
Soul so dead, they didn’t gave the matter much relevance,
They were silent averting their eyes,
I could see not trace of guilt in their eyes.


She was always there away from me
my sisters in me to be
for they’re my love
I was not their me
in me to be with them
my me

everyday I thought of them to be that life with me , with them in me
but were THEY
this thought took me away from me
as I ridiculed me in thoughts which grew
each day more perverse in me

Why did my parents kill them for me
why wasn’t I enough
why were THEY not ME
what if I was them
would they have killed me

this thought plagued me
until I couldn’t see the life
that lay in front of me
too bare for me to see kill me
until I couldn’t rest anymore
away from my parents
I left the shore
to France
I went to forget my own
to live a life no more
my own not mine anymore
but my past would invade me
just wouldn’t go ..
off me …
I turned to life
unable to trust
why life had not
favoured me …killed me for them
to savour me …leave me without them disable me …unable me

Their thought lived in me day and night …
a thought that held me so tight …
in its plight till I could live no more more to slight right


From Paris I returned to my hometown,
Still in miseries I couldn’t help but drown,
(Married a Hindi speaking French girl
With her to bear two kids )
My wife and kids tried to cheer me up,
But nothing could lift me from gloom and grief.

My kids suggested to celebrate the birthday,
Of my sisters who could not see the light of the day,
We had birthday bash with cake and candles,
Some temporary relief for my life in shambles.

On returning home I paid homage to my sisters,
With folded hands and kneeling down before their pictures,
I garlanded their under developed structures,
Have a glimpse at their pictures.


Every year this was a ritual we performed
Lifting me from my gloomy spirits
In their love to fill my every want
As they grew closer to me
To feel them finally living in me
a part of me
My life now felt complete
In their love my love to seek
my love in me to keep
A life which felt my own
with them never to be alone forever own

For finally
we had come

Copyright- Nutan Sarawagi and K.Radhakrishnan

No automatic alt text available.


Oh! My sailor

It’s you ambled into my forsaken shores!


None else than you could


Plunge into my vastness

Sail past my turbulence

Pat n curb my upheavals

Swing in my rhythms

Dance frenzy to my trumpeting tunes


Hey! My sailor

Drift along

Pull in

Merge in my ebbs n tides


None else than you could


Dive with an abundant mirth

Heals up n head down

Into my ultimate bluish depths


Hey! My diver

Drive in vigour

Rob me of my rubies n pearls

Stay at my depths

Slow down to pick me up

Wait; I’ll willfully gift

All that you crave for.



In just a flicker of a timely bliss

Sailing, diving and showering into me

Marvellously a deposit you penned

At the utmost bottom of me!

It is so charming and a true delight
To feel mostly the mosquitoes bite.
When the sluggish sun breaks its own crust,
wind can teach you how to smoke some dust.

When the air smells of somnolent bliss,
Any bee can give you a sweet kiss.
When you are bored and you stifle yawns,
Spunky crickets trigger songs on the lawn.

If you go for a refreshing swim,
Jellyfish come beneath the surface dim.
Maybe at home, the things can turn out cool,
But your car stops because it’s out of fuel.


Poem by Marieta Maglas

Kitten and mom
sitting at the gate,
oblivious to the
long opd wait,
medicines and files
passing by,
pain and worry
why me , why….?
mom in her grace
was watching agale,
baby scampering
to nail the tail,
trying to beat
the swag and length,
stretching itself
width and breadth,
it was their attempt
at being a doc,
pain and sorrow
they tried to mock,
braving rains and chill
one should always rock,
may what come
wind or gale,
they always have
a wishful tale,
count your eggs
and hatched chicken,
life will be at your
call and beckon …
thats the message
from mom cat and kitten..!!

©Dr. Swati A Gadgil, All Rights Reserved.


The Last Cicada

The sadness scattered
over the walls resonating
with what was
in the heart
of the mountain.
No sound could be heard.
A myriad of eyes belonging to cicadas
were shrouded in mist.

A somewhat long-winded
like a speech
surrounded the sky.
Maybe it was an echo,
a sesquipedalian one.
It wasn’t breathless at all.

Nothing could have saved
nature around.
Neither of the forests,
neither of the birds,
and neither of the bears
could survive…..
Nothing more
could have been done.

All the moving peaks became
small stones, as solitary
as the moon,
at the fugitive horizon.
The last cicada

Everything became motionless.
There were only the shadows
of the trees
to follow the sunbeams.
The nature game
turned detrimentally
into a disaster.

In an illuminated city,
a man bought
a lovely bouquet of red roses
wanting to bestow
what it is considered to be
a symbol of romance.
This man needed
to express his love
and to let his woman know
how he feels about her.
This man disappeared.
He was the last one.
Nothing could have saved him.
Nothing more
could have been done.

Poem by Marieta Maglas

The name of the painter is Adam Sturch.

The year is about to wrap up.
Heavy luggage it carries.
The broken shards of heart’s affections,
And the wet dry tears of lost attentions.
Lot of secrets to be shared yet untold.
And hopes breathing their last in its folds.
Might be some dreams too that seek their demise,
And the incidents that leave you much wise.

Let them go.Let bygones be bygones.
Allow the grudges to sift through your fingers,
as the sand which doesn’t ever last.
The Exes which were never meant to be yours,
allow them to simply disappear fast.

Fake friends were a lesson for you to learn,
let them go and forgive as you step on the threshold
Trust your heart and brain and instincts,Yes!All
Don’t allow surmise to continue,
Learn your lessons anon and let the year set sail

“Light of Life”

Is it you
Are you the one
That is filled with me?
Is it you
That should have crept in
From the start.
Where from did
The helter – skelter tide
Of love hit me?
My remorse
My passions
All buried and done,
With weaker limbs
Did I not forget to exist?
Sullen and pale
I did roam the empty streets
Devouring candies of bitterness
Like oozing beer can
Your flow in me
Gushed out the scuffle marks.
The virtue of being
Living and existing
Cremated once
Now erupts with jubilation.
Your lashes have strengthened my stagnant limbs
Your hands have smothered my pitiful punctures
You are disguised as me.
Revelations never end.
And here I am
Sniffing your musk
And walking behind you
To the light called love
Love – for a woman like you!

(Arturo, Lucca, Miguel, Frederick, Marco, Cruz, Pedro and Ivan were playing cards and chess. Lucca, Cruz and Miguel started to smoke clay pipes.)

”Nice angled bowl with a coat of arms, ” said Lucca. ”Yes, ” said Cruz
While smoking and relaxing, ”where did you buy them, Lucca? ”
”This one is made in Holland- a way to liberate your muse.”
”Give new life to a broken heart, ” said Miguel, ” It’s like Sambuca, ”

Laughed Lucca, ” Ivan, how could you avoid the army as a serf? ”
”As a yeoman having my own land, I had an accident, ”
Cruz asked him, ’’Did you receive some support from a dwarf? ”
”I broke my left leg when I fell from my horse- a strange event.”

”Interesting! ” said Marco. ”You became a rich merchant
In the Ottoman Empire.” ”Yes, I sold my land, ” smiled Ivan.
”You could go to Moscow, ” ”I didn’t want to be a servant.
I was a middleman in the fur trade, ” ”Let’s enliven

This game with some wine! ” ” These cards are unique, ” said Pedro.
”This rare pictorial pack is made in London, ” said Marco.
Lucca told Cruz, ”If you need new cards, I’ll give you pronto.”
”Give me the most immoral hand, ” laughed Cruz, ”come in, Fargo! ”

(Fargo entered to bring the wine, which was served using glasses. Ibrahim brought dried fruits, nuts, biscuits and small cakes. The women had spent over an hour dressing for this meeting because it was customary for the women to change their entire outfit for any event on that ship. Rosa, Geraldine and Erica were doing some needlework. Carla, Chiara and Pedra were reading some expensive books. Chiara chose to read a book written by Elena Piscopia, Carla was reading some philosophy by Mary Astell and Pedra liked the books written by Aphra Behn. Francesca started to paint and Bella was trying to play ‘’Capriccio stravagante’’ by the Italian composer Carlo Farina using her violin.)

Francesca said, ” The violin replaced the viol, ”
”The music written for it established its identity, ”
Said Rosa, ”I like the opera ‘L’Orfeo’ and its tale.”
”Through polyphony, Monteverdi has supremacy.”

Francesca continued, ”Chiara, what are you reading? ”
”A book about Christ written by the monk Laspergio and late
Translated by Elena Piscopia, a nun being
The first woman that graduated with a doctorate.”

Carla said, ”Francesca, what are you painting in that blue? ”
” I’m not Caravaggio, still I paint a medusa, ”
Carla replied, ”You used amazing hues, and it’s sweet in view! ”
Chiara said, ”It’s an image of the port of Siracusa! ”

(Francesca embraced Chiara.)

”It’s so lovely to see you together; you are good friends, ”
Said Geraldine while finishing her work, ”do you have children? ”
”I’ve married Arturo six years ago; now, our love ascends
After his long widowhood; Francesca is his daughter.”

Chiara took Geraldine’s hand with a noble gesture.
She told her that Arturo lost a fortune three months ago,
And this trip was offered by Lucca to change their life’s texture.
”Maybe Francesca painted to petrify the time’s flow.”

”Francesca is the sweetest child I’ve ever seen until now.
She’s adorable in this purity of her mind.
She’s shining like a star belonging to Ursa Major Plough,
And I love Arturo even in affairs he is so blind.”

(Arturo and Marco were the last passengers who left the room while talking. Arturo ended the conversation.)

‘’ Russia is a force needing an expansion quite quickly
But, unfortunately, her friends are not really her friends.
Pushing Russia, who is an honest power, clearly
Will turn the destiny of the whole world into dead ends.’’


Carla was a beautiful woman liking to dress in green.
Sometimes strong and other time weak, she needed to face the life.
Inside her, there was a child hoping to push the life scene
Into its own condition and the things into their right strife.

Her husband, Pedro, was very wise and precise -a strong man
Needing to gain stability while turning back from New Spain
To rebuild the life and to go forth on a new plan.
Their children and parents waited for them to come home again.

(Geraldine and Carla were talking on the deck. Carla started to confess.)

‘’Her name is Beatrice and he loved her for a while needing
To leave the family for a new meaning in this world.
I loved him secretly while her scent I was breathing.
I understood that I’ve lost him when our love became a sword.

I knew I was a mother in this combination of three,
And, sometimes, I thought that Beatrice should never exist,
And, other time, I wanted to leave everything to be free,
Or to end my life because it was so hard to resist.

I’ve tried to talk with her and the situation to explain,
But she laughed while telling me that Pedro is her lover.
I understood her laugh and that my efforts were in vain.
I was ill when we traveled to New Spain to recover.”

‘’ Carla, the things are not always as they seem to be.
You’ll overpass this moment because you’re a strong mother.
You must take care because nothing goes well as long as he
Doesn’t assume the responsibility of a father.’’

Bella and Miguel liked to live in their own world of two.
They had a house in Barcelona, and they traveled to see
The world; they stayed months in India to throw backward a new view.
Marco and Rosa wanted their spirits to be free.

They were turning home after living three years in New Spain.
Carla and Pedra traveled with their husbands who were twins.
Rosa convinced them that in that place their strength is spent in vain.
Life became a music coming from the water violins.

Carla said, ”the education helps the women make
Right choices in marriage.” Bella replied, ”What’s a marriage?
It’s not only a consecration in a church, an awake,
But it’s a contract, an act no one can disparage.”

Miguel said, ”it’s a transition from a moral conscience
To a pure concept of consciousness.” ”You start to see it
As itself, ” replied Pedro, ” to eat the bitter consequence.”
”It’s tied to the moral identity when love is in a fit, ”

Replied Bella. ‘ It has a Cartesian nature, ”
Said Carla explaining why love comes after the wedding.
”Then, the moral sensibility shapes it to our feature, ”
Replied Bella.Miguel smiled, ” tenderly in our bedding.”

” The disparity in intelligence leads to misery, ”
Said Carla, ”the marriage must be based on a lasting friendship
Rather than on an attraction experiencing agony.”
Pedro said, ” when love is distorted into a sword to rip.”

Miguel said, ” the marriage that is not consecrated
In a church has the same legal validity.”
” The lovers may marry secretly, but it’s complicated, ”
Said Carla, ”and it’s hard for the women of the nobility

To make an independent living.” Pedro started to grin,
” To secure a husband is an attitude having a great importance.”
”She’s an object of thought, ” said Miguel while touching Carla’s skin.
Pedro said, ”it happens only when we seek love in abundance.”

Carla said, ” the women’s career options beyond the mother
Are none; they cannot have the same opportunity as the men.”
Pedro replied, ” your impracticable thoughts make the father
Leave the family.” ” He’s not allowed to come back again.”

Miguel said, ”She’s allowed to express her sexuality.”
Carla said, ” it depends on how the woman perceives this thought.”
Bella started to play music to inspire some human morality
While using the violin to imitate- the cats’ sounds brought to naught.

(to be continued…)
Poem by Marieta Maglas

(Geraldine was walking on the deck while waiting nervously for Fredrick. Suddenly, he appeared while speaking quickly and gesturing.)

”I’ve waited for you all day long to come up with some fuel.”
”I went to buy charcoal, water, and outdoor lamp oil.
At a crossroad, I’ve seen a stage driver who has been so cruel
To whip his horses to run faster; the oil spilled on the soil.

He drove a stagecoach; my horse was frightened by the sound
And my trolley overturned. I had to come back to buy
Again three barrels of oil.” ”That oil spilled on the ground, ”
Said Geraldine, ”the money has gone, and this is not a lie!

I don’t ask you to tell me where you’ve really spent the money.
It makes no sense to ask you for the truth. Is she beautiful?
Did you have a good time? To wash laundry in public, honey,
You may bring her here. This way, you can be dutiful.”

”I love you, ” screamed Frederick, ” so, you think you’re funny.”
”Well, I may be funny although I’m never stupid.”
He held her, ”I sold some jewels. Take the money.
I could lie to you, but you’re the one. I’m down with Cupid.”
”Do you remember that man having a ring with a skull? ”
”You’ve met him in Constantinople, ” ”I’ve met him here, too.
He was in that stagecoach liking this way his horses to cull.
He laughed saying, ”I’m a captain in search for my crew.” ”

”Frederick, I want to return home at Khadjibey.
Do you remember when we’ve met in the port and you
Gave me an emerald cut on a gold ring shining at the ray? ”
”I’ve asked you to marry me, ” ”I love you; you know it’s true.”

”Then why do you want to turn back home? ” ”You know I’m scared.”
” This is our chance. If we turn back in that unknown trading port
For slave markets, I will not survive; I’m not prepared
To ask the sanjak bey some protection and a lot of support.

I am an Italian and I’ve seen so many things.
I saw the terrible fate of those becoming galley-slaves,
The women enslaved being sexually abused, in sufferings,
But someone living in Khadjibey is a plow and a scythe. ”

” Is this artwork painted by Paolo de Matteis or not? ”
Asked Francesca while coming to them. ”What are you doing here? ”
”We really like to admire that splendid island a lot.”
”Shall we offer them a string instruments’ concert, Chiara dear? ”

Khadjibey was controlled by the Ottoman Empire
As a part of Yedisan in the Silistra Province.
To build a fortress named New World was the Turks’ desire.
Carla said, ” This meeting has been chosen by The Providence.”

Carla concluded that Geraldine was an American,
But Geraldine did not understand the confusion.
She learned Spanish from the Jews, who were Spain citizens
Coming to the Empire to avoid the conversion.

”My father lost a lot because of the plague and the disaster, ”
Said Miguel, ”a half of my wealth has been gone in the warfare.
We thought to immigrate to a new world which was moving faster
Than this one in which we were living as those lost in the nightmare.”

Cruz asked him, ”Why didn’t you try your chance for a new life? ”
”I wasn’t strong enough, and my son died in this war made
For the Spanish succession after the King Charles’ death; my wife
Still grieves for her unique child; our life cannot be repaid.”
” In Gibraltar, the property that had been taken
By force became a British one; we moved to Barcelona.
The power balance mirrored those widows standing forsaken.
Let’s cheer this Grand Alliance! It’s as the sun’s light corona.”

” The Anglo and the Dutch kings used the navy to open
The Strait of Gibraltar needing the naval power
In the Mediterranean zone.” ” Guess what was broken? ”
Asked Bella, ”I think it’s about our transatlantic economy shower.”

”By the Treaty of Constantinople, our Russian
Forces had been withdrawn and Zaporozhia lost all
The army protection, ” said Ivan, ”then, our discussion
Was to sell our goods and to leave a life that apart could fall.”
”In the Holy League, Russia joined Austria and Venice
To drive the Turks and to sign a treaty with Poland, ”said Cruz.
”Those horses have never met the steppe, ” said Ivan, ” became a menace,
”Leopold The First was helped by the Turks that Partition could refuse.”
(Geraldine and Erica were talking on the deck.)
”His father had been a soldier that came home after many
Years of serving the czar; he found that his wife had died and
Ivan had lived with an aunt that spent money but didn’t have any.”
For a few minutes, Geraldine was speechless and stunned.

”Erica, why did his mother die? ” ”She was the wife of a serf.
She was a subjugated slave laboring for a lord.”
”Was she beaten? ” asked Geraldine while dampening her scarf.
”She had been raped before she took her own life with his sword.”

”Who’s sword? ” ”The lord’s sword! He was drunk when he beat and raped her.”
”It was a matter whether she overcame the pressure
Of the peasant village where this mother lived not to err.
She died, but I’m sure she loved Ivan without measure.”

His father took Ivan home and worked a part of that lord’s land
As a serf, barely leaving time to cultivate
The land allotted to him while taking care of his child.
Ivan didn’t go to army but asked me to immigrate.”

(Erica, Ivan’s wife, ended the conversation while starting to cry.)

(To be continued…)

Poem by Marieta Maglas


You are not alone in this sorrow,
Beneath the same shroud
I also lie…
The Black Raven….the vulture of all souls:
Has pecked my eyes,
And the furrows of blood
That trace down onto my lips,
Taste …of you.
That veiled woman of death,
The Banshee…The She Wolf of my tribe –
Will not sing my death song;
But turns towards me
And wails into my ears,
This unending curse of the betrayal.
And still I cannot die!
Many demons tear my flesh,
Break my bones,
In an unfruitful search for my soul;
They do not know,
That it has always been hidden,
Somewhere in yours.
Never were my words untrue;
Each was chosen from the veins of my heart,
And woven with strands of your hair;
The furnace that welded our souls still burns,
And I for one will not extinguish the light –
Even with your tears.
For what seems dead, and has no flame,
In the darkness of the night;
I see through these bloodied eyes,
The embers beneath the ash;
Still glow.
Perhaps brighter from the wind
Which blow the bellows of the storm.
I wish to die in battle,
Before I am eaten by the wolves.

© (Löst Viking) (May) 2015) John Anthony Fingleton