My New Year Wish

My soulful greetings to all

greetings to the victims of the Ukraine war

may the new year bury the bombs

in the bits of hate

and may roses blossom

on the graves of the dead.

 

Greetings to the snow buried

men and women for the struggle

fought for survival

but nature won

that nature which man has destroyed

changed the character

from benign to malign,

May great nature

forgive us for our mortal follies.

 

May this new year free us

from Covid's wrath

may men and women

holding each other's hand

dance to create anew

amity friendship and well being.

 

May the new year bury all

religion, caste, politics

may humanity and love

be the religion of man.

 

May the new year

prepare us all to fight

hunger, sickness and death.

What Buddha did may now

be our deeds to make the planet

the greatest monument

graceful, beautiful and happy.

Sabita Sahu

My Account Is Endless

My lazy nights do not allow

the sun to rise on time

disturbing my morning rituals

delaying my day purposelessly.

 

But what will happen

if the clock works symmetry

of nature's habits

initiate activities

in the terrestrial world

the sun doesn't bring breakfast

the aroma of the rose garden

doesn't prepare my children

for school; How can I keep my cool

to focus on my inner world?

 

My elements are different

my earth doesn't rotate

it is eternally still

my water doesn't purify

as everything in me is pure.

I breathe a different air 

and my fire never burns

it gives only light and light:

But my inner world is choked

by the ways of the world.

 

You may say I am a freak

may be I am but

my earth holds love

my air smells of compassion

my water purges the soul

and my sky is a canopy

shading all inanities:

let the light sleep more

how does it matter

if my inner world functions

as per my wishes,

I don't care

whether the warships sink

in the black sea or

the Cyber Hawks watch my

bank account depleted

by a million days

I'll still draw my key

my account is endless

because it is a big zero.

Sabita Sahu

 

 

 

Queen's Way All The Way

I came and I became

what I am,

one day I'll be history

maybe in the dustbin of time,

but now I am the Queen

I fought, I struggled

I won and lost

but now I have my kingdom.

 

Usurpers  daily torture me

but to no avail

I fight for my rights

I don't collect taxes

nor allow others to tax me

for I owe nothing to anyone

yet every hour they

 invade my territory

jeopardize my authority

like the opposition

in democracies in their

unreasonable jealousy.

 

I have no army

I am a one woman army myself

Kings and Princes suitor like

cajole me and also threaten me

with death as punishment

for my pride for not yielding

to their wishes,

they try to enslave me

they take away the prizes

which I have merited

by hard honest work

they inflame my temper

But I stay calm and proclaim

O' you friends, relatives

my royal master, my children

don't encroach my freedom.

 

I have come as you have

to perform to strive to achieve

my womanly graces:

You do the same

in your own ways

there is no conflict between us

if you attack my kingdom

I'll destroy yours,

If you think you deserve more

I declare I deserve all.

 

Who knows who comes when

who knows who goes when

I rise above

who what why when

you do the same

if you can't

Leave me alone

to raise all monuments

for posterity.

Sabita Sahu

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Collyrium

The collyrium in my eyes

wrought magic

the sky settled

on the green valley

rotten mangoes flew up

the law of motion inverted

I waited to catch them

nothing fell

the sky disappeared.

I washed off the collyrium

the house returned

the street city

the cartographers world

crowded me from all sides

screams of horror

shouts for help

the familiar reality of life

all returned in horse haze.

But when I looked up 

the sky was not there

a blank void

stared at me

with baleful eyes.

Sabita Sahu 

Walking Janas

 

When I go to a temple

to ask for a wish -

I always think

what wish can any deity fulfil

when they wait endlessly

for the temple priest

to bathe and feed them

decorate them with flowers

to attract people.

 

Today the priests never discuss

what the people want

what human problems are

they simply chant the slokas

and slowly move away

to which we smile as if

we understood the meaning,

the looks of the idols don't change

the expressions are sealed

by the hands who made them.

I have what I want

what I don't have I don't need

I am full self sufficient

I love myself -

I am not sologamus -

I am full of love for

the people around me

if no one needs me

no one calls me

doesn't matter,

I call my God

in my daily shadow play.

 

It is not enough to live one life

eating, running to the hospitals

doing errands and living

every moment half dead

half alive like the 'Janas'.

 

Sabita Sahu

The Postman Cometh…

Daily I wait

dusting father’s old typewriter

unusual uncared for

my growing children.

I wait for his letter

long promised before

an age of poetry.

 

I remember he wrote

three times a day

the landline rang every hour.

He spoke in rhythmless

I love you dearest

you are my nearest

in this fretful world

of broken pyramids

and invaded temples.

 

He was like that

never spoke straight

always in couplets, riddles

looking at my eyes

to measure the sea

his mind always ran

in haunted gardens

to pluck a flower for

my luxuriant hair.

 

I know smile at myself

how many times I have

run to the dictionary

to understand his letters

how many times I have

 asked him to explain

the meaning of what he said

even now my lips glimmer

to light his life

with  a flowing kiss.

I craned my neck

 to the stretch of road

visible through my

kitchen window while

making the lunch box ready

it was empty yesterday

it is empty today

the post man’s cycle bell

is silent for long days:

Will he not write

the last love letter

or has he forgotten to post

or has he forgotten the art

of love in the words of

heavenly serenades.

 

Is he dead or alive

if alive how is it

the letter is undelivered

like the unseasonal fruit

of far off island

beyond the mortal world

where the love letter is

buried and gone.

Sabita Sahu

 

Waiting for Death

 

Who waits for death?

Death is not a guest

who will come knocking

the door at earthly hours.

 

What is death then?

The shuttling down of the senses

the closing hour of the mind or what?

It will come as experienced

in history on its own time

a life will end to give

way to another.

 

Waiting for death is non human

you die every moment

craning your neck to hear

slow footsteps like a terminal patient

in a hospital bed.

 

It makes me laugh

why wait for something

which is inevitable?

Waiting is a waste of precious time

which never turns back for

self correction of your regrets.

 

I live every moment

I will also live death

and embrace it with

dying lips planting

a kiss for the vast relief.

Sabita Sahu