PAROMITA MUKHERJEE OJHA

 

Uma

 

The Kans grass swaying in the balmy breeze

We await her arrival with bated breath

Parijat’s lingering aroma increases in degrees

We capture its essence in the teasing breeze

 

Daughter of Bengal

Would be home soon

With her she might bring a boon

To eradicate the pestilence once for all

 

She is Durga, she is Kali

She is everything pure and holy

A destroyer, a protector, a nurturer

Tender as a mother feeding her nectar

 

To me, she is a beloved mother

She has always been the reason of our laughter

For these ten days

We breathe, we live for her

And I would choose to do this till my dying day

 

I might have left those by lanes of Kolkata behind

But those sepia tinted memories do bind

The woman of now with the girl left behind

Whenever I am with Uma, I regain peace of mind

 

I am waiting with hope for my beloved mother

This year she would help us rediscover

New bonds with mankind

Greed, avarice would not make us blind

 

She would be our guide

If we put all differences aside

Walk together hand in hand

Across seas, ocean, and distant land.

©Dr. PAROMITA MUKHERJEE OJHA

 

 

Joys Of Solitude

 

The Clock ticking reminds me of the times gone by

I wish I had sooner said ‘goodbye’

I wish I could let past pain bleed from my eye

I wish it would have been less of ‘YOU’ and more of ‘I’

 

Years have flown by

I now look into the mirror with eyes dry

I am learning again to try

To let my gossamer dreams spread their wings

Before I sign out from life and say final goodbye

 

I wish to learn to fly

It’s been a long-cherished dream

To glide through distant azure realms

The golden gilding of the sun

Makes my soul want to run

To embrace the golden rays through paragliding

To shimmy with the stars in daylight hiding

 

I wish to travel the length and breadth of my country

Bury my pains in nature’s bounty

I wish to retrace my steps of my life’s journey

Scrape the sham of ‘YOU’ and ‘ME’

I wish to re-emerge as phenomenally ‘I’

Therein would my happiness lie.

©DR. PAROMITA MUKHERJEE OJHA

 

 

City Life

 

My fagged-out brain fails to generate output

Check your facetime -productivity alarming

This is a factory floor

Every second need to be accounted

Else see the door

Why does life have to start on the wrong foot

Slog day in and day out

Survive like maggots in jhuggis and chawls

Even a bucket of water generates unholy brawl

Feeding those fledglings at home

Seems an ugly jest

Surviving in this ruthless city is a daily jiggery-pokery

Dignity for human life seems like a mockery

Rich become richer, poor destined for lifelong drudgery

Sweat and toil, moping, groping, retching, belching

No roads lead to recovery

Of lost sanity, lost vanity, lost humanity

March head on amongst the marauding hordes

Admire the false beauty displayed on bill boards

Wish, sigh, sweat and cry

No matter how much one tries

Spreading those war-torn wings on the blue sky

Is a dream too distant to hold by.

Life goes on across two boundaries

The educated lot

Who flock to fancy shores to get permabanned

While the lowly souls grind and attain black hands

Live it or leave it, pray one day fate you might outwit

Happiness would no more be contraband

Strive to rise against the tide, strengthen your pride

Maybe then maybe fickle destiny would be at your side

©Dr. Paromita Mukherjee Ojha

 

PAROMITA MUKHERJEE OJHA

 

Dr PAROMITA MUKHERJEE OJHA: Delhi, India. -A voracious reader, passionate painter/crafter, philanthropist. A participating author/poet of more than thirty national /International short story and poetry anthologies. Winner of multiple literary contests. Participated and presented more than 21 research papers on Literature/HR/ Cultural Studies. Book of poetry titled ‘Sylvan Fragrance’ available on all major online platforms.