Sunday, August 1, 2021







I saw a gypsy

By the side of- Pharaoh’s in Egypt

So scintillating was her headgear adorned

With silvern and gold coins


She walked in poise as she

Skirted her long Egyptian Gypsy Trails

Clad in ……

Myriad colours and mystique stance

She walked round the tall big


Pharaoh’s and Pyramids

Lost in archaic time

May be she had

To find her answers

Buried deep, lost in vicissitudes of time!


She gazed at her ‘Crystal Ball’

Intonating with chimes

And walked away,

As if The Pharaoh’s would breathe to life

And she would find

The secrets of life!


In tombs one lived a life

After death,

So the tale of Pharaoh’s tell

So exotic and ephemeral

In times they lived!


I stood behind, the tombs

Struck in awe and wonder

I too looked at The Pyramids

Forever thinking

Why The Kings, The Pharaoh’s lay

In majestic tombs?


Each bespoke

A story of it’s reign

In Egypt!

Waiting to breathe to life


Perhaps…..I think

May be the winds knew the secret!

The Gypsy too bespoke

A truth!

They would rise to rule

In glory of their tribe!

To live in a mirage

Of time travel

Of battles fought long ago, to recount

Glory in the Aquarian age!


To tell the story, to the spirits

And mankind

I wondered, if the dead would rise

From the sand dunes?


In time travel…….

I followed her

To the streets of Baghdad, in Samara

by the river, Tigris


The sun had set, and she carried

Frankieinsence, burnt briquettes

In a silver ‘Bakhoor’

She trailed it’s incense and peacock feathers

In the bazaars and wadi’s of

The old, den of Caliph!


She spelled her charms and

Wore her talisman, her amulets

Intricately designed,

Bedounian styled

Whispering to herself….

Secret messages

Of the wind and the water!


She wore orthoceras dagger ring,

Long and crafty Omani style

Decked in Aqeeq Red Rings

Bejewelled her- all ten fingers

With cats eye and moonstones


She wore her long ‘Black Abeya’

Puffed in lingering scents

Clunging to her bosom, her Arabic perfumes

Adorned with Egyptian silver cuffs,

And ten toe nails, covered in Bedounin’s maze


I followed her in awe and wonder

Like a man in trance

Dare not ask her my………

Good fortune!


I think, she was…. my Talisman !

Who took me to

The streets of Baghdad!





God in his wisdom was fascinated by her, he made her according to his vision and devotion God immersed his divine magical brushes and coloured her in fantastical hues, she emerged in ten avataars!

Sun God wanted to bring her down, to turn the cosmic time, her womb to fill the earth with love and care, so she was made in the image of a mother- soft and benevolent….

She emerged as Godess Saraswati, the goddess of knowledge to read the secret scriptures. She emerged from the ocean, as Goddess Laxmi! In the image of wealth and bountiful She was threatened by the demons and ghosts, So She emerged as Durga!

To Kill the demonic powers who had lived since ions, she fought like a ‘Chamundi’ The Godess who devoured the devils & inhuman forms to illuminate the truth!

She still rises from the ‘Jatas’ of lord Shiva who stays in heavenly abode of Himalayas!





The colonials have left, long ago

The remnants of the colony still

Dwell in their shadows

Their pounds and shelling, marked

‘The Monarch’s face’ on

  The epistle’s stamped

The Royal’s face!

So, I heard in stories              


So here is a story, of a nation

Almost three hundred year’s old …..

The Glory of India, was heard all over

The Silk Route

So many plundered it’s wealth

The emeralds, the opals an d The Kohinoor Diamond

All plundered in the ravages of time

In Monarchs kingdom

They   all shine

Long forgotten wealth of India

Is written in the chronicles’ of time!


They gave us our freedom

With a price tag

Peace and wealth were a barter

For their friends and foes

New land and nations were formed

The bugles, played and the trumpets blew

Singing songs of their victory



They left 72 years   ago

A country bereft

With dark shadows   and a credo

Of caste, creed and religion

The mantra of gospel truth

“Divided we stand” whispered in ears

Of people   


The vast empire stands divided

On marked lands and punctuated spaces

India, Pakistan, then the Kargil …LOC

Two countries in turmoil, hostile and neighbours

Each bearing a constituent assembly, yet planting bombs

And bloodshed

Where the terrorist plant suicide bombers

In India’s land

In God’s own land of Kashmir

Once the Jannet on earth



The most dreaded place and hell

After seventy year’s there is no land, no place to own

Two States- one Nation India

Where is peace? 

Peace was given, overnight now

stands divided in cause and divided in minds-

And every year –

They play the tapes on 15th August

“Freedom at Mid Night”

When the world sleeps

India will rise……

So is the story of Kashmir!




ANEETA CHITALE pursues an eclectic style in her penmanship and is well appreciated as a poet in international arena. She has published her poems Internationally and in India in many web magazines/ journals. On 15th Aug 2020, she has received “Gujarat Sahitya Academy Award-India” in collaboration with Motivational Strips. She explores the women of India in her narrative form and her social status, in her themes. Nature, women and love are the major motifs in poems and writings. Her Poems have appeared in Egypt, Albania & Greece in highly esteemed journals, like OPA, Odyssey International Anthology of World Peace -2021 and  ‘’ in Belgium. Aneeta Chitale is her Pen name for Shanita Vichare

No comments :

Post a Comment