My Poems

Laments of loss in poignant elegies Or hymns of thanks in prayerful submission,  The soothing charms of mother's lullabies  Or anthem of nation in pure oblation... Songs are sung in many a mood of mind -- In many a rendering of streams and flows Life does utter where soul it does find -- Freely through croons or hums, and highs or lows. And notes of songs with tears or joyous refrain  That's solemnized with the spirit of oneness  Can gather up clouds for a desert rain, Can melt mountains, can resurrect the lifeless... And songs that sing the paeans of humanity  Are waved through vibes of Earth to eternity.  -- N P SAMAL 

I cry, I do cry breathless like a baby. You notice me or not but I do cry -- Whole drown'd in tears -- be it night or day it be -- No care if you find me absurd and wry. But I can't be unfair to cry, or vague If crying can protect me from strokes of death  That nothing else on earth can, though I beg With my bowl'd palms held heavenward in good faith. Yes, I do cry (Whoe’er on earth will not With the betrayer's dagger stabb'd in heart?), But know my tears will flow all through the drought And grow new plants of love ere life does part. Maybe to kill the fatal pain the heart bears, Come out generously life-giving tears. -- N. P. SAMAL 

Who dreads not fire - the most when it is swallowing  Woods after woods? And who revels not the most When down the floating reserves begin pouring  Water that saves the lives, their woody host? Burn does human anger like wildfire And in that fire are ashed both burnt and burner, While tears like flooding torrents douse the pyre Before the both men that its flames do smother. Or may devour its prey or stumbles on  Its tough begetter conceding defeat  Which breaks the bank of sorrow and affliction  Releasing tears to cool the mortal heat. And bigger the wound, the stronger tears do flow And stop not till they float you away from woe. -- N. P. SAMAL  Glossary: 1. Ashed = burnt into ashes 2. Burner = the one who's angry  3. Begetter = the one who has caused the                           anger

Birds go for foods and mates, so do animals. And they have gone for everlasted years, But all remain the same through springs and falls - Though guts all fill'd and body in full cheers. But the entire trail of their routine outings Is soil'd with carcases that don't evolve  Through changes; ages gone but same in nestings, Same life, same skin, same wing, same dog, same dove. And succumb they to chances or survive Or die at end no cares, no thoughts, no plans Unlike the growing humans who do live And wish to colonize Cosmos with their clans. Desire do they to alter life and death,  So they do create - across the heaven and the earth.  - N. P. SAMAL 

When struck with love for my unfaithful love mate, Distress'd get I being dwarf'd hers towering;  When I look down on her from height of hate, My heart does weep with sympathy deep-stinging. On one side lies an agitated bay And, on the other, limitless dark water As love can't take me ashore or hate away, From death and life's unsparing rigid juncture. At perils of 'to be or not to be', How long will I remain becalm'd more if I can't be a lover, nor can hater be -- Endlessly afraid of death, afraid of life ? Thus I am -- love revealing, hate beneath; One threatening life, one ensuring death !! -- N. P. SAMAL 

Like clouds in windy sky together we get, Then drift away from one another own ways In search of life the clique could not beget, Or driven by winds as they change their passage.  By will or 'gainst, ripped our togetherness,  That one's survival being subsumed in self Fits like free radical in anywhere else To fulfill one's desire or get at risk, help. Yet strength of union we each of us bestows- Like beauty of each bloom makes up the garden - And like blooms we must in submission muse The wellbeing of all. But, alas, a bane, It's always been own interest or fear ! It's always been a business or a barter ! - N. P. SAMAL 

Crawls the caterpillar for the case To come out as a new born butterfly Or for a noble pretence does wriggle endless  The snake to shed its skin that's dead and dry. The plant so lies whole year, in wait for Autumn  To shed its leaves and wear a shinier foliage As Nature's each elapsing momentum  Does life 'together cast off for a new lease. That,putting on the present is like dying,  For shifts the time e'er with the growing earth  And dry the wears away in long 'waylaying' Due for life to sustain with each new birth. Rolls on the cycle of life with love for the new; Though go the old, the new - me after you... - N. P. SAMAL 

What could well be more cheerful for a man Condemn'd to die childless than the call of 'papa' And more a grant -- when voice is of a doll -- than The man's fatherin' the woollen replica? Revived and human'd I've been by the doll With beatified parentage of a father If bred an angel, and down the unborn times all, I will be farm'd up in my blood -- my daughter -- Whom with my pieteous grinds shall deify  Before my life's unalterable recourse; A waning mortal I may some day die But shall not die my Doll and love of ours. And with our father-daughter's holy image, My Doll shall live on brighter by the age. -- N P Samal 

CELEBRATION, INDIGO ! Let's combine, let's resolve  With our oneness, with love With all zest and with verve This Diwali to observe  In the lights,  in our fight  For the sky's extra height  That our IndiGo's each flight  Will take off with our might Far out-bound, then in-bound Back in its feeding ground - Paradise that we've found The vast sky all around  That we'll celebrate That w e'll celebrate  And spread flights of happiness  All for Humanity's timeless Regence... - N. P. Samal On behalf of Gourav Sarkar IndiGo Executive 

The cosmic incidents 'cross the endless skies Do catch our fancy and absorb'd attention; With earthly blooms and hopping butterflies,  We do fall for this beautiful Creation.  Billows and snowy brows of heavens height,  Or woods, waterfals, and oceanic whirlwind - The livings and non-livings - all that bright  And bucolic are drags for our opress'd mind. The more we notice the Nature's allure, The more devotional become do we, And more like current of retreating river We flow to beauties from daily ennui... And more our livings get obscure and dirty,  The stronger gets our quest for each beauty.  - N. P. Samal

Life, to know, does never end at grave, Nor in the pyre is it consign'd forever - Unlike body Nature does in it stave - For life isn't made of mortals which do moulder. Unbound of 'break-free' cells and elements,  Life is not form'd, decomposed or re-form'd; Neither does it abide in carnal fitments Nor like an object is disown'd or own'd. But it's a stateless canvas of our mind Which we do paint with colors of emotions  Thick or runny or whatever kind, But it has e'er remain'd yond definitions - Beyond the touch of mundane existence; Unhurt, unentertain'd by our experience. - N. P. SAMAL 

Oh, at last, a big sigh of relief, If, at all, an escape have you got from the Bug's grip; From the bone-breaking hide-out, In the end have you come out, So are flexing your muscles rigid and so stiff, And amok are you raiding the streets  As each corner does quake with your chest beats,  While the humble and helpless All awestruck by your rat race For regaining your weaken'd energy-pack units. Have the modernist humans been winner, however? Have their lives been forever secure? You do know that your fate Cannot ever be ultimate  In relentless severing by throat-cutting saber. Your intelligent brain of Narcissus  Has hoodwinked the apocalyptic Virus, But to your own images -- In the self-engineer'd mazes -- That a victim are you -- to own curse. Now the Pandemic's going down the history lane. But back gets the mankind's in-tow Bane, Demonized with fierce forces Of own wrongs and so vices, To resume his horrifying devastation and rein... -- N. P. SAMAL 

THANK YOU, DIRECTOR ! IndiGo's crafty puppeteer,  Oh, beloved Director ! You have provided rapid flaps  To maximum wingspan  With numberless victory laps,  Taking the Plane's flying trend  Straightaway, to a legend. At the height of fame, On float has been your Plane  With steady flights from soars to steers,  With hums and roars,  By your sheer manoeuvres  For a dozen of years. All these years on, Each time,  Off have you taken the famed aviation  On its welfare mission  And landed it safe  In its defined destination.  And for your dedication,  Oh, beloved Director,  Shall go on forever  IndiGo's peerless triumph  Of the limitless heavens  With your pathfinding direction... - N. P. Samal On behalf of Gaurav Sarkar Executive, IndiGo Airlines 

The extent of mortality's endless trail Of humans that are dead ne'er lifeless lies; Never are dead their values, valiant tales Of success, their service and sacrifice.  Neither are they whose mortals fall behind The walls of fame, for life does climb each ascent; For ever-growing lineage of the humankind,  The souls of all who die  are ever present : Some are embalm'd, some etch'd deep in our heart  And some with beacons in cockpit of brain Do show us path of wisdom of the past And with immemorium others do flow in Our life as blood and breaths - in gleam and gloss The dead are never dead, but live in us. - N. P. SAMAL 

I see all plants bemused and e'er at peace With their genuine submission to the union And birds in flocks and flights e'er in bliss - With foliage, with flaps, both live in true communion.  And I haven't seen when they slump, when they soar As all the past long they've been existing  By me since birth but have not faded ever Their youth and mirth while I have reached my passing. And ere my death, with tears do I repent  Why I long'd for my individual self And vices I grew in me that did dent  My life to death in isolation no help ! Whence did I come and whither will I go ? But chance of human life I spoilt I know. - N. P. SAMAL

From height of mother's womb comes out the flow  Silent and small, with a resolve to conquer Life's insurmountable hurdles and to grow  By right or might, to fame of no-feud victor. Contain'd within its banks, it rushes on Passionate, past rocks, over waterfalls; Then wide it spreads out in a stately fashion  As banks recede and sink numberless thralls. But true, a river never rises up And, though in aid to some lives and livings, It only drowns the lows, earth masses and humps, But flees mountains and hills in abject yielding     To finally  quit what it wished to be, Then noiselessly it merges in the sea. - N. P. SAMAL, POET, AUTHOR, ACADEMIC