RAJASHREE
MOHAPATRA
Truculent Cries ...
Every now and then
Scenes with brutal horror ungrudgingly appear
In front of my eyes,
My sense of visualisation is shattered
With mounting pain and truculent cries.
I regret to remember
That we were once the
torch bearer
For peace and tranquility
Yet we cry now out and out
For sympathy, empathy
and humanity
The world now seems to be set on the flames
Savagely disturbed with sounds of bombs and bullets
And we are left with no option than to be with despair
In the arms of stressed buffet..
Consequential changes in the viscinity and atmosphere
For bruished edifices and wild fire
Causes resultant ups
and downs in the atmospheric pressure and temperature
And confines young and the old, men and the women, children or
the adult
To the boundary of unscertain weather , leaving every one to
shiver.
The dawn now appears astonishingly impure
And the dusky sky bears shades of blood stains
Enforcing all that our heart
and soul ever captured
To vansh like troubled dreams of our brains.
Come on, Get up all in cohession
Come closer with hands in hands and judge
If it Is the reality of current civilizations !
Death continues to engulf
lives in tacit
Is it for reasons that
history repeats?
The Women In The Portrait. 01
Oh my Country men!
Have you ever seen the
woman in the portrait
Hanging uncared on any of the society walls
With coarse garments
and tangled hairs?
Did you ever focus
On her blackened and
wilted lips
And her lined forehead
drenched with her sweat?.
A careful observation definitely
Makes you to read
Those as evidences
of her mounted sufferings.
Her dreamy eyes
Tell her ever untold story of decades of humiliation
And raise doubts if ever she smiled in satisfaction
Yet confirms her
promises
To reach her goal undaunted and ungrudged.
Her face glitters
When she thinks of her fallen foes
Her dogged determination stands unperturbed Even in
defiance
Suggesting her
political madness
In an atmosphere of restless suspicion
A shrewd observation of her portrait
Confirms out and out her
goal
Through the a pair of artistic eyes
When hung as a painting on the smooth walls of a museum
Speaking her determinations to regain
And rise again to enlighten the earth
Out of heaps of
frustration torture and humiliation.
The Woman In The Portrait .02
Oh Dear men around the world !
You invariably cry and yell
For liberty, Equality
and Fraternity
While you plead every revolution as noble
And yet an act of
morality.
Please have a look if you do not mind
At the struggling hands of women
You may of course find
The year old picture is not yet changed
And l they are bowed with labour and peasantry,
Continuing in a poor
state that they cannot refrain.
With strong muscular hands
They try to clutch few stalks of grain
As a matter of pity and compassion
After the so called god-father – A man of course
Snatch away the harvest leaving a handful balance for them to
glean!!
The panchamahabhutas
Soil, Water, Space, Fire and air of the ages
Shall confirm as witness
The story of a woman from the age of
Adam and Eve to as on date
Beyond doubts and suspects.
RAJASHREE
MOHAPATRA
RAJASHREE MOHAPATRA: Born in Odisha in India has received
her master’s degree in ' History ‘and 'Journalism and Mass Communication' from
Utkal University, Odisha. She is a teacher by profession. Being a post graduate
in ' Environmental Education and Industrial Waste Management ' from Sambalpur
University Odisha, she has devoted herself as a Social Activist for the cause
of social justice, Environmental issues and human rights in remote areas
through non-governmental organizations. Poetry, Painting and Journalism are her
passions.
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