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Nar Deo Sharma


Nar Deo Sharma





POET: FAMILY FUNROLL

For Father

On poetry why do you
Fritter away your pains?
What'll people
Do with your poetry?

In their sexitchy vehicles
Dissipate modern moods,
Burgers, pizzas of corruption
Bulge their bellies.

Privations for you
Starvation for your children
Are your poetry yields.

With the scent of reforms
Couriered to people
By your persuasive poetry
An aching appendix are you
In the corrupt stomach of nation.

For Wife

Staple life with a poet
To marry myriad miseries.
Many decades of
My married winters
Have frosted
The saplings of my dreams.

Never has he pored over
The anthologies of my desires
But daily he grinds
Milton, Shakespeare, Keats….
Scoffs, jeers, carping relations are
My fate-fed, shame-shine ornaments.
Even a hunk of family hunger
Can't meal a day his
Paltry poetry purse.
(In her overheard soliloquy)
Oh God, my poet husband
Evinces enormous expectations:
Pray grant him in literature
Posthumous Nobel Prize:

If he survives my prayers
He shall carnage
My goals gold
Lavish the prize on library.

For Children

O dear sister
Our father with
His treasure of poet-poverty
Must dowry you
Paper ornaments that
In our home
A Japanese poetess designed.
Papa's poetry
Stratified in syllabus
Must burden our study.

Sense dear brother
The sky of intelligence
Feel the feast of father's feelings:
Pursue your Ph.D.
On papa's pains.

JEALOUSY

Sensations stirred the streets
Whenever she passed flaunting
The tidbits of her
Feel-feast-form familiarly.

Some savored her as
A lush landscape of lust,
A pastime butterfly of passions.

On her titillating tempting teens
I too crazed my cash cares.
Her newsy elopement appalled all.
Young barking stunned the streets..
My ranting dented the sky.

The melodrama of my melancholy
Sounded a nasty knock on
The pulp of pain of her parents.

A stump of spite I've been
Since she snubbed me as her hero.


GREEN GO

Nature's austerities are apparent in autumn:
No dense desires define the trees
Not a grain of green thoughts stirs them

Forgoing the flair for
Fragrant ornaments, the twigs live
The dry conventions of Indian widow

No water wish in rivers, rills rolls
Lakes lay bare their sandribs which
Children titillate with their larking
Meadows, pastures catch jaundice

Not a bit of beauty can
Nature boast to key up
Twitter bards, people praise

Like the congregation of ascetics
Merged in meditation
The eye-cry-dry-trees are
Poised , pieced in pensive prayers
To preen on green go.


DYING DECLARATION

The why of my suicide
You'll never dig at, I know
Since you've evermore responded like
An apathetic God against my miseries.

How to live in lifelap
When pain pounds peace?
With an avalanche of abuses
A sleet of smarting scoffs
You littered the alley of
My pinchpunch privations.

Your selfsubsuming apathy has
Redounded an impassable cleavage
To a man who
Swung you in affections.

Well, I abscond with my
Selfspun everlasting imperturbability
For your sprouting as
The cotyledon of love
On my grave no matter.

Top


Articles/Discussions


Conversation
Sunil Uniyal and Ranu Uniyal: In Conversation with Charanjeet Kaur

Literary Articles
A S Mohamed Rafee: Naipaul’s India
Anindita Ghosh: U R Ananthamurthy
Indrani Das Gupta: Bama’s Sangati
Rudra Kinshuk: Agha Shahid Ali
Swati Srivastava & Avneesh Kumar Singh: Rohinton Mistry & Vikram Seth

Book Reviews
Alka Dutt: God I Am
Ambika Ananth: Ink and Line
Glenis M Mendonça: Teresa’s Man and Other Stories from Goa
Gopal Lahiri: The Reverse Tree
K K Srivastava: Rotations of Unending Time
Pramod K Das & Narayan Jena: The Whispering Grove
U Atreya Sarma: One Year for Mourning
VVB Rama Rao: Emotionoceans
Payal Das: ‘De-Coding The Silence!’

Poetry
Amibka Ananth: Editorial Note
Arnapurna Rath
B R Nagpal
Bem Le Hunte
Bidyut Bhusan Jena
Javed Latoo
K N Shivshankar
Murali Sivaramakrishnan
Nar Deo Sharma
Pranshu Prakash
R K Biswas
Shobha Narayan
Vijay Kumar Roy

Fiction
U Atreya Sarma: Editorial Musings
Ajay Patri: God's Own Taxi
Bem Le Hunte: Divine Confluence
Indu Parvathi: Two
Narayan: A Mother’s Grief
Neera Kashyap: A woodpecker hammers at my throat
Sunil Sharma: A story told by a maid-servant’s preteen daughter
Sushrut Bhatia: At School

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