Poetry from Sandip Saha

Heaven on the earth

I remember those golden days
thirty minutes past nine evening
the sun was still in the west sky 
yet to touch the horizon
our dinner was over
it was time to go to bed
but my eyes were not blinking
lest I miss the beauty of nature

I did not sleep much that night
at three o’clock early morning
the sun already rose 
illuminated surroundings 
as well as my mind
no traffic at all in the roads
below our hotel 
night survived only for a few hours.

Standing on the shore of the Atlantic
covered in thick woolen wares
as pricking cold piercing to skin
we went to see the sunset,
in panoramic view of my camera
I caught the sun in between cliffs
partly submerged in the ocean, its roar
appeared to be loud laugh of joy

our coach was running in snow fall
both sides of the road were flooded
not by water but with ice
it was dawn, the red sun threw
its first ray of light
to the peaks of hills
white, it was only white everywhere
my mind found heaven on the earth.

I saw you                                                                                        

When I saw you last time	
you had one squirrel that
came running from the bush
jumped up on your palm
swallowed three almonds
ran away back to the jungle

your fondness of birds
was as profound as ever
couple of them were 
sitting on your head
so colorful and lively
it was a pleasure to look

as I left, you took up
a book on your lap
sitting on a door step
on a trimmed green lawn
with a cup of coffee
you got lost in it

the smiling roses and marigolds
were soaked in dew on the lawn
the golden sun just reached
from the morning horizon
making them pleasant
bees came on them buzzing

the cowboy left home 
to graze his cattle herd
long way to go for meadows
over hills calm and quiet
he took his lunch box 
as at dusk only he will return.

I want to dissolve my mind

Every moment of my life is dying
drowning in the ocean of the past
the stories that are composed 
become history forever.

My mind and body are floating
in the flowing river of time
they are destined to die
one day or the other.

My Self is observing 
sitting on the bank
it will do so
till the show is over.

Whatever once started
is going to finish 
body will perish
mind mourning melancholy.

Body suffers sadness
till it dies
mind carries the grief forward
from one body to the other.

How to slain the mind
is the job in hand
let it dissolve in the Self
abolishing painful existence.

I met God

Meeting God is a wonderful experience
for which many devotees hanker after 
considering it the highest goal of life.

God has been met by different people
in many different means and ways
most of them by bhakti yoga.

They want to meet It as the beloved
the endless ocean of love
in which they like to dissolve themselves.

Some get It as the divine mother
or the father who is the savior
Yashoda got It as son and so on.

Experiencing the immense power of God
is also meeting It, not as the lovable 
but as the most unconquerable entity.

I went against the God vehemently
for many unfortunate ills It causes to us
abused It left and right spurring venom.

I was about to leave for Japan with my wife
paid huge amount of money to the tour operator
but two days before the journey I got typhoid.

It attacked me with Its deadly weapons
typhoid was accompanied by 
asthma cough, severe dysentery, arthritis.

Over and above that my brain was invades by gas
I could not lift my head lost control on myself
soiled my bed passing stool and vomiting.

It was so severe that I felt I may die
it was deep at night, my wife was also helpless
that day I bowed to It seeing Its supreme power.

Preposterous politics

Now a days there are rushes among politicians
to fall at the feet of poor people of lower cast.
Some greats men described this as worship
it seems, according to them, presence of God
is more in poor unprivileged public than riches.

Ha, ha, ha, these pretentious politically motivated
unscrupulous actions are nothing to do with love.
One elderly woman made a lavatory in her house 
for that the prime minister of a country bows down
touches her feet. What a ridiculous action to appease!

Another chief minister of a state appeases a poor man
on whom one upper cast rowdy guy peed in public
by brings him to felicitate with garland, washes his feet,
puts the washed water on own’s forehead as though the man
who hardly can meet his both ends will be benefited.

Democracy has developed devotion to downtrodden,
do you know why? Because of vote bank politics.
Politicians can spit and lick the same for votes
TV channels have become a dumping ground of debris
of societal actions to irritate the senses of viewers.

Sandip Saha (India) won two awards from India and one from USA, published six poetry collections. He also published 152 poems in 47 journals including The Gateway Review, 300 Days of Sun, Adelaide Literary Magazine, Brushfire Literature & Arts, Sheepshead Review, In Parentheses in six countries- India, USA, UK, Australia, Romania and Mauritius.

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