A Night In The Refugee Camp
In the refugee
camp of Afghanistan
Scorching days
of ‘No Water’
Desperate queue
of hours hue
Only a bucket
per a tent
Lusty eyes of
the guard
Craving gesture
of all horror
Precondition
placed by him
An extra bucket;
come for a night
Never a night
but explosive fight
Never comes the
dawn or peeps the Sun
Shahnaz a girl of fourteen
Awake whole
night in a fix
in her tent a
bucket for six!
Those five days
she needs water more
Restless Shahnaj
makes a deal
Better to be the
Begum of the guard
Instead of
burning every second
Can bathe and
wash all her parts
Monthly these
days will be stress-free
So what the
guard above sixty
Certainly, water
beyond all needs
Fourteen-year
Shahnaz chooses the path
Walks to the
guard slowly and slowly
“Uncle, will you
marry me?”
Copy right @ swapna Behera
(This poem is
translated into 67 languages and published in many National Na International
journals and magazines }
Migration At Zindagi.Com
Every migration
is harrowing
You cannot carry
the well
The old broom or
the doormat
Or your granny’s
patchwork bed sheet
Even your
diaspora heart
That craves for
berries, mangoes
And guavas of
the backyard
Every migration
is painful
You have to
carry the domicile certificate,
Your I Card and
Aadhar
But you cannot
carry
The tea shop of
the Nukkad
Where people
play Holy
Sing Kirtans in
the evenings
You may carry
the bucket
But not the
water
You may carry
the deity
But not the
enchanting echo of the mantras
You can carry
the memory
But certainly
not the scenery
Every migration
burns within
But projects to
be damn cool outside
Migrations leave
behind night jasmines
A flowing river
that taught you swimming
A mountain that
gave you height
A spring season
that blossoms love within you
Those rice
powder Rangoli
Marigold flowers
in the courtyard
The fresh Hilsha
fish of Padma
Porridge cooked
on bamboo leave stoves
Mustard flowers
in winter
The fresh green
veggie
On the banana
leave plates
Migration makes
you a solitary reaper
On the Metros
Escalator
But yes you can
stay in the Holiday Resorts
To upload a
photo in the Face book
All that you
have left behind
You will buy a
living fish in a jar
To show your
child a new zone
Zone of
Zindagi.com..........
The Juvenile Time Zone
The illuminated
satellites
With floundering
credible numerals
The robot with a
portable heart in the briefcase
The synthetic
salad on the plates
Malfunction of
the globe’s wardrobe
Dissolving
glacier
The radiating
reading glasses
The planet will
hire a story teller and a Love Guru
The lucrative
smiles of granny
from the frames
of the heritage
A peeping melody
of a canary bird
From the horizon
The last
hibiscus in the park
The lost tiger
in the cemetery
Love, the
costliest spice in the diaspora cuisines
Little eyes
gazing to ozone
with the mask of
oxygen
The diaphragm of
time will crack
The impulsive
butterfly will fly
A fairy will
reborn as a Banyan Tree
Rag pickers will
dance with books
The mothers will
hold digital progeny
The Earth will
celebrate a new dawn
The squandered
forests will spring
the Anthems of a new Time Zone.....
Knock ! Knock !
Be silent dear islands, mountains and
rivers
The youth tired and weary
withered; in hibernation
Searching Google to express emotions of
love
Just a minute; let him sleep and dream
Love swirls, swims in his blood
Love is accredited or debited
Or is it never deposited?
Nations are drops of dew in the bucket of
winter
Love is in the nests of sparrow
Is love a portrait or a proposal?
hung in the front room with dry flowers
Dear leaves don’t ever feel degraded
The Google is colourful
The ducks are muddy in the real pond
Is there none to welcome love?
The child is alone in his own planet
Where is the whistling?
Where is the canopy?
No hip hop of visions
Everywhere the traffic of money
Knock knock
May be love at the door
with astounding graphics of eternal logo
Listen to the splendour of the nature,
forests and rivers
They are the
love makers,
song makers and
profound progeny
The cumus or cupids !!
Knock knock
.......
A Poet Is Dying Tonight
A poet is dying
tonight;
In a panacea of
blood
Enough of
transfusion, transmission
And lots of
confusion
He is in love
with the widow droplets on the grass
Love is a forbidden
Adam’s apple
A poet is a pet
or the Jagir of the society
His heart is on
lease
He can neither
smile or cry
Has to be in the
syndrome of hangover
A poet is dying
tonight
Tired and
sleepless,
wrapping the
blankets of the stars
The tattoo of
time on his soul
Is he the broken
bangle pieces
to celebrate
peace?
Or a prism to
refract the beam of light?
A stamped flesh
hung in the butcher’s shop?
A poet is dying
tonight; before comes the twilight
The world is
ready for the funeral condolences
Let him die
peacefully
For thousands
are in the queue
To be the
martyrs, to be the poets ..........l
SWAPNA BEHERA
SWAPNA BEHERA is a trilingual
contemporary poet, author, translator, environmentalist and editor from Odisha,
India who writes in English, Hindi and Odia. She was a teacher of Mont Fort
School from 1984 to 1995 and a teacher of Kendriya vidyalaya from 1995 to 2015.
Her stories, poems and articles are widely published in National and
International journals, and ezines, and are translated into different national
and international languages. She has penned seven books of different genres
including one children's literature on Environment. She is the recipient of the
International Mother Language UGADI AWARD WINNER 2019, honored from Gujurat
Sahitya Akademi , International Poesis Award of Honor at the 2nd Bharat Award
for Literature as Jury in 2015, The Enchanting Muse Award in India World
Poetree Festival 2017, World Icon of Peace Award in 2017, and the Pentasi
B World Fellow Poet in 2017.. ATAL BIHARI BAJPAYEE Award 2018, Rabindranath
Tagore Award 2020,2022. Mahatma Surja Kumar Karfarma Memorial Honor 2020,
Konark Odisha award,Smt Simhadri VisalakshiMemorial Award FOR literary
Excellence 2019, International Life Time
Achievement Award the Honoured Poet of
India from the Seychelles Government accredited Literary Society LLSF and from
Algeria,Morocco, Kajhakhstan ,modern Arabic Literary Renaissance of Egypt, Republic of Kyrgyzstan; International
Arts Council Argentina etc. She has bagged nearly 50 National and International
Awards. Her one poem A NIGHT IN THE REFUGEE CAMP is translated into 67
languages. At present she is the
Cultural Ambassador for India and south Asia of Inner Child Press U.S. The
Chief Admin of India and Middle East zone of India office of the Motivational
strips. Cultural Convenor &Literary Coordinator of International Society for Intercultural
Studies and Research ISISAR of Eastern India. She is the life member of Odisha
Environmental Society, a peace activist whose motto is Listen to the tears and
Save Mother Earth for every child.
Best Wishes!
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