A Simple poem :- Poems

A simple poem :- Poems

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Poems are like flowers

Seed sowed in the mind

Inked through heart

Flowering in different ways

In themes, essence and shapes

Catering for creative minds

Direct, indirect,

From the heart or intellect

Soulful or poignant

A loner’s lament,

A lover’s moan

A soulful tone

A happy reunion

A false illusion

A thought divine

A visit to shrine

A solitary pain

A wife’s disdain

A dreamer’s dream

A heart’s scream

A love profound

A trust abound

A soldier’s sacrifice

A pet’s demise

A mother’s love

A poet’s dove

Anything you name it

A poem will tame it

Fractured texture

Or with a rhyme

Under the shelter of vast universe  

When words begin to shine

Luring every creative mind

Like a bee to nectar

Extracting honey of its own kind.

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All rights reserved/Tribhawan Kaul

Soul Searching By Peace

Soul searching by peace

Standing before the mirror gazing self
twin one croons,
“history of wars, fights, skirmishes
have already taken toll of you
terrorism of every dimension
now becoming sin number eight
what is to expect now from you ?”
It questions simple and straight.

“Sometimes you are scarred
Sometimes you are battered
Sometimes you are crossed
Sometimes you are martyred.

So
Are you dead ?
Nay, I dread
you are not yet,”
whispers my mirrored friend.

“eighth sin has no place
war has no grace
let more sunshine be there
for everyone and everywhere
undoing mean human mentality
let darkness not prevail
blinding us till eternity.”

“Rise, rise, rise once again
show your prowess
hold tightly drooping reins
 peace, humility and harmony breeds
great civilizations

don’t dump into dustbins
God’s own beautiful creations.”

“Alias love, compassion and brotherhood

you can’t be dead
wake up and change the mindset
for the sake of entire humanity
 make violence to shed violence

apartheid to shed bias

states to terminate conflicting ways

with false vanity

and embrace you

with heart and soul

global peace be only your goal.”

Could withstand no more

allowed it to merge in mine

my conscience ready to take on

all the violent ways head on

for peace and harmony.

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All rights reserved/Tribhawan Kaul

Note from the poet : The poem has been published in 'World Healing World Peace' a poetry anthology 2014 from USA.

Father dear father

Father dear father.  (Father’s day special)

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Standing tall at the horizon with an aura around

Wrapped in the mind emotions abound

Eyes talk but not the lips

Pain and laughter take the dip

Watching the waves touch and go

Children get blessed when he bestows

Tending the future with utmost care

Not the one who would share

The pain.

Absence of rustling of leaves

Sportingly watching a broken tree

Branches scattered or blown away

Seeds carried far away

Love and affection now much in demand

Never felt let down, still in command

Satisfied he feels and laughs at the time

Conquering smile is noble  and is sublime

Payback ! Can’t think but just a prayer

Should father me in next life, if GOD cares.

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All rights reserved/Tribhawan Kaul

Nagging

Note for my wife:- Kindly don’t take umbrage as it is only a metaphorical write and not at all about you.

Nagging

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A tear in her eyes makes  me wonder

a chance for patch up did I squander ?

Never to complain..she, but questioning a lot

neither liked the questions nor liked the thought.

Life gets topsy- turvy, grilling when starts

anywhere,  anytime, at home or at city mart.

when, where, why, how, who and what

inquisitor  testing always your guts.

No chance for atonement

Words  coined  for harassment ?

Wish these could be wished away

But no

Entire life hinges on these

Try taking them away.

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All rights reserved/Tribhawan Kaul

A joke is created

A joke is created

Laughter is by-product of humour which keeps us in good spirits disallowing the stress to take shape in our mental faculty. Making fun and laughing at the discomfort of others and cracking jokes on one’s name, cast, creed, profession etc, may not be in good taste but everything goes  in the name of humour which evokes laughs. Probably people are so much fed up with bearing the constant stresses of various nature that they lap up everything which make them laugh and bring a smile on their faces. Humour can not be created. It simply happens. The hallmark of humour being its spontaneity and when same is documented results in jokes.

One day I came from the market and was parking the car at my designated parking lot. I forgot to take out the ignition key and had shut the door in a hurry. Before I could realize my mistake and rush back to the car, car was locked. Panic struck as I had no duplicate key ( had lost already by yours truly) I was standing near the car like a stupid watching the handle of the car wishing some Gini to appear and open it. My wife from third floor balcony stared, glared making faces and with both hands gestured in bharatnatayam style.( She likes to shout indoors rather than in open thereby keeping my prestige intact)  She was asking questions in such a way that I thought her to be fit for teaching assignment in a deaf and dumb school. I was unable to communicate in the same way wondering did I pray for my wife to appear instead of the Gini. Soon people gathered around my car. Everyone offered his own indigenous suggestions from breaking the side window glass; to calling an expert car mechanic to open the door; to dial the company for duplicate key;to fetch a locksmith for manufacturing a new key. I felt elated to get so much support from the neighbourhood when a lady shouted in a typical Punjabi style, “  O thank Goddde Traabhawanji, you are not lockede inside the carrre.”(Thank God Tribhawan Ji, you are not locked inside the car)

The laughter her innocent remarks evoked was spontaneous. For about ten minutes, everyone present had a hearty laugh forgetting everything and a joke was thus created.

Humour is thus part of our life. A life without humour is like a dry barren land. When we laugh, world seems to share a laugh with us. Unfortunately sorrow has no friends.

-------------------------------x-------------------------------Tribhawan Kaul

चिंता-ग्रस्त (english version is placed below)

Written with great pain on Badayun gagrape in UP and series of rape cases reported during last fortnight till date. English version of the poem is produced below.

चिंता-ग्रस्त

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जिगर का ख़ून अब, आँखों से निकल रहा है

जहाँ बहते थे कभी आंसू, अब ख़ून बह रहाहै.

चंद दरिंदों के हत्थे, चढ़ती जब एक गौरिया

कसाई भी थामे माथा, ज़ार ज़ार रो रहाहै.

ग़मज़दा, ग़मगीन सभी, पर बेबस भला क्योंहैं?

हर जगह केवल बहस," यह क्या हो रहा है?"

अब ख़ौफ़ नहीं आदमी को, इंसानियत के मरने का

समझू क्या मैं अब, आगाज़े कलयुग हो रहा है.

क्षुब्द हूँ, स्तब्ध हूँ, हैवानियत को देखकर

लाखों कलियाँ को देख, मन परेशान हो रहा है.

मुल्क क्या रहेगा ज़िंदा, जब आत्मा मर रही हो

चेतो अब तो  कानूनदानो, वक़्त यूँही खो रहा है

"कौन अपनी थी, "क्या हमारा उससे वास्ता"

नौजवानो, इस सोच से खून पानी हो रहा है

उठो, आवाज दो, है तुम्हारी अस्मत; इज़्ज़त हमारी

दो वहशियों को फांसी; भारत, जग शर्मसार हो रहा है.

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सर्वाधिकारसुरक्षित/त्रिभवनकौल/05-06-2014

Worried

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Our heart reaches out to them through our eyes

Now blood, not tears oozing from our eyes.

Few human beasts devouring a girl

His head in shame, a butcher too cries.

Debating in their comforts." What 's going on ? "

Dejected, depressed, helpless but why ?

Now none fears to dehumanize humanity

Usher kalyuga,  signs for sure, fear I .

Hurt and shocked at the continuing monstrous acts

Worried for blossoms, are they fated too to die ?

Oh!My country! Can you be alive when soul is dead

 Lawmakers, time is running out for remedies to try.

She neither belonged to me nor she was a concern

Thought should  turn blood watery, don’t ask why.

Her honour & respect is ours, wake up you youth

‘Hang them’ give a call, shamed Mother India sighs.

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A scary story

A scary story

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It was December 12th of the year 1967.

I found myself  alone in the compartment with a book in my hand and a small jute bag on my shoulders having nothing of importance yet which gave me the feeling of a traveler. One’s possession is always like a treasure to him and the jute bag was a real treasure for me as it contained two times meals for me. Silence in the whole compartment was frightening and ominous.  I was the lone passenger in the compartment and it did not bode well for my onward journey.  Train was passing through chambal gaati in MP, infamous for it being decoits infested area. I was scared what if dacoits stop the train and loot me of my belongings! ! Fear engulfed me when the train stopped. It was pitch dark outside. I gathered courage to come out of the compartment and to my relief I found a small station outside. The strangest thing was that not a human soul was in sight and a solitary light dimly expanding the shadows in octopus like shapes gave me the creeps. As soon as I retreated inside my compartment, the train jerked and then started. The wind gushed in. Three persons entered into my compartment. I, tightening coat and shirt purchased with my hard earned money with one hand and clutching my jute bag with another, sat in the corner of the wooden berth near the window. They were looking nothing like decoits. No guns in hand, no masked headgear, no big moustache and not heavily built yet I was waiting for them to pounce on me to loot me.  When nothing happened, I got relaxed and started talking to those unknown co-travellers. Soon everyone was talking and laughing. Shortly the topic of talk veered around the ghosts. I never believed in ghosts so I was on one side and those three were on other side. There was a hot discussion. At the end, I got up and said, “gentlemen, you may not agree with me but the fact is that I don’t believe in ghost in this scientific age. Ghosts are nonexistent.”

One of them stood with dangerous posture and said,” you have to 

agree fool” and saying so he vanished. I was left speechless and 

wide eyed.

“What is your view now?” said the second one and he also 

vanished. I was about to faint with fear.

The third one asked,  “shall I also leave, if you say ?”

“No” I shouted, “at least you don’t leave me alone. If you also 

vanish, I will faint and the decoits will loot me. I prefer to be in the 

company of ghosts rather than be looted by decoits. Damn my 

scientific ideas.” He smiled, patted me and vanished. I simply 

fainted feeling as if I was thrown into a deep ravine.

Someone was heavily patting me and I saw my co-travellers 

laughing at me. To my chagrin I found that  I had fallen down from 

my lower berth to the floor. Actually while reading a horror novel, I 
had fallen asleep and my sub-conscience had been playing tricks 

with me.

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By Tribhawan Kaul

kaultribhawan@yahoo.co.in

kaultribhawan@gmail.com