23 Aug 2013

#19 The Wall



Theme: In this poem, I have tried to depict the difference in our lives and those who are living in a slum near our hostel. The view through the window of my room is so natural that it has prompted me to scribble down few lines on the lives of these people who indirectly constitute the sphere of our lives. I admit that we are dependent on tech toys as well as on them for our works. Now the question is that how much are we doing, on our part, to help them? Their contrasting life and the natural way of living inspire me to observe their activities through the grill of my window. It is a pity to think just on them and not being able to do anything for them. Through this composition, I would like you all to look down on the deprived section of the society and help them to lead a life that they dream of. Remember, no help rendered goes in vain. Let’s all pledge to lend helping hands to them who need them the most and transform this planet into a wonderful place to live symbiotically.

The wall, that wall
Not the wall of China     
That ordinary wall
Standing tall and upright.
The wall of our hostel’s periphery,
The wall-6 feet tall
And of pale pink in color.
That wall encompassing
Our tiny world
And separating theirs.

The wall stands on
The interface of the difference
Based on the economy.
The prevalent poverty
Peeps through the crevices.
Some primitive settlements
Being made on its opposite
Side in contrast to ours.
What an irony!!
Where there is everything
There lies nothing.

Our priorities are in
Opposition to those.
Where becoming successful
And famous are our dreams,
And theirs, arranging
The basic needs-
Food, clothing and settlement-
Whichever it may be
Even just a feeble tent
Will serve the purpose
Of a temporary settlement.

Their simplicity and punctuality
Are what make me awe-struck.
The commotions of the slum children
During their merry making
Breaks the silence of the ambiance.
Those blue colored tents
So carelessly planted, sway
With even faintest breeze,
But still in its place.

The mother’s lullaby
Puts the infant in deep sleep.
The whispers deep from her core
Wrapped up with her
Intensified emotions,
Float in the air
Even after the song is over,
Mesmerizing few unnoticed
Listeners like me.

We- the dependent folks
Captivated by the tech toys,
The alarm tone from the mobiles
Wakes us from slumber.
For them, the nature is
The alarm tone
And the brightness of the day
-the watch and dial.
Where accuracy has no meaning
For them but for us

It is one of the
Parameters of the cut-throat race
Or say rat race.
How contrasting are our lives!
Even inhabiting the same space
With unequal opportunities,
Separated by that wall,
Yes, that 6-feet tall
Pink colored wall.

Swati Sarangi

9 Aug 2013

#18 Feeling Obliged.....By Sweta Sarangi

Feeling obliged

Feeling obliged to be
A part of this universe
Where there is always agglomeration
For the better cause and result

Feeling obliged to be
Born in this beautiful world
Where each matter has some importance
And unique existence

Feeling obliged to be
A part of this country
Where there is harmony among
The citizens and brotherhood prevails.

Feeling obliged to be
A part of my family
Where each member knows my worth
And render support and love

Feeling obliged to be
A part of the society
Where there is plenty of scopes and
Opportunities with no space for negativities.

Feeling obliged to be
A part of the journey of life
Where each experience becomes
 A long-lasting memory.

Feeling obliged to be
The way I am
Fully immersed in my thoughts
And never ending creativities.

Feeling obliged to be
One of the creations of God    
Feeling obliged for everything I possess…..
Feeling obliged…

Sweta Sarangi