Self immolation
At the age of fifteen she entered a married Life
Soon to prove capable and become responsible wife
Husband passed away at an early age
She became widow and it became difficult to manage
”She must be burnt along with husband” shouted the crowd
They may consider it as honor and feel so proud
We may not go into whether it was bad or good
It was to matter for her life and livelihood
“She was to be burnt “was the decision
No one could change it for any reason
people started to flock to her old house
Sky was filled with slogans as passion rose
It was practice of self immolation called “SATI”
Her face was to shine with more beauty
Head was to be decorated with nice flowers
Red big dot on forehead with blessings to shower
“Long live mother, long live mother” filled the air with slogans
Heavy music of drum beats along with large crowd of women
It was free flow of human beings to witness the show
Great medieval saga to be offered as the anxieties grow
It is banned long ago but still continues to be performed
Authorities remain in dark and are never informed
May be they turn show soft corner for moment
Religious fervor coupled with custom was the event
Day was fixed for immolation and she was prepared
Religious importance of it was repeated and compared
She was to be remembered for her great sacrifice
“You may be known as living Goddess” was the promise
Process ion was out and she was almost near the dais
Her face was covered with flowers and hardly was heard her voice
Sky too remained very calm as Sun departed quietly
Everybody remained calm and observed it minutely
It was seen from distance that she did not favor or go for
It was not her ideas or witnessed by anybody this before
Woman Falk was to be burnt with departed soul
There was no question of smelling any rat or foul
As funeral pyre was to be lit with fire, more chanting begun
She was to be placed on pyre with dead body of husband
As soon as she neared the placed she was virtually pushed
As fire began spreading, crowd began soaring and rushed
She was cosigned to flames as sky turned red with flames
Who was take responsibility and share the blames?
It was holy event at that given time and stood the test
Time now has made full circle and it is not considered as best
* SATI is performing of self immolation after husband’s death
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Maha Sati
Maha Sati*
She grew up
In a happy family
She sacrificed
All her ambitions
And every comfort
For the wellbeing
Of everyone in family
She was married
With some difficulty
For less Education
Her in-laws and spouse
Of a modest family!
She made no complaints
Tried to live happily
Whatever came her way
Destiny tested her
And her relations!
She fell chronically ill
Couldn’t afford treatment
At her husband’s place
Came to her parents
Her in-laws forgot her
Left to her fate
She did not complain!
One day we saw
She took a drastic decision
Self immolated herself
To spare every one
Trying to help her
Instead of her husband
She was Maha Sati!
*Great Sati (Sati system was earlier prevalent in Central India, in the medieval period; where women would self-immolate them after the death of their husband
poem by Udaya Pant
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(Meera) The Early Life Of Meera
Rajputs took ’Sati’ as a sacred one
For any live widowed woman
To burn herself in the fire
With her husband in the pyre
Meera was young still.
Lo, it was God’s will
That brought the end
Of Rathan Singh who died.
Her mother, Chandramugi
Went to join him in sati.
But Rao Dudha prevented it
For Meera’s sake, out right.
As Dudha, her grandfather,
Was too old to take care,
It fell on her mother
To care more for her,
A big crowd stood once
Outside the palace entrance
To receive red saris for women
And coarse dhotis for men.
A woman took a sari,
And asked for a dhoti.
As her husband was sick
He couldn’t come to take.
Next to her came Meera,
Asking for a sari from Dudha.
He refused to give her one,
As it was for a poor woman..
When Meera was stubborn,
Laughingly he gave her one.
Again for a dhoti she asked,
The one for her dear husband.
Dudha, who was surprised,
Asked, “Who’s your husband? ”
Promptly she then replied.
“Krishna is my husband.”
Chandramugi explained him,
How Meera had this dream,
How, one day, as a child
Lord Krishna she married.
On the girl’s passion
And her spiritual vision,
Happy they were first,
But became worried at last.
“How can a silent idol
Marry this mad girl?
Is it really possible?
What’s God’s will? ”
So said her mother
To her grandfather,
Who could understand
Her passion as a child.
He said, “When she grows old,
Reality she’ll understand.
Now, she’s only a child
To know about this world.”
But for the girl Meera,
She felt herself Radha,
Krishna’s beloved Consort
In the Dwaraka Resort.
Her every song revealed
Her deep thoughts inside,
As a wife of Krishna,
As Krishna’s Meera.
poem by Rajaram Ramachandran
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The Deity
Her world collapsed all too sudden.
The ground she stood wobbled below.
Her dreams crashed down like pack of cards
Death robbed the man, she wed days before
No more a bride in dazzling silk.
Never shall she be bedecked-
In brocades, jewels or gems.
Never her hand, be held in love.
No more shall she be the former Rajput bride
Now a widow shunned and abhorred by men
With tonsured head, so ugly to view
Cursed and doomed in the eyes of all.
A stigma, scorned and borne in shame
A defenseless bird with clipped wings,
Destined to languish within a cage
Never shall she see again the outer world.
Fore warned to keep out even from the kindred folk.
Alas! She preferred Death to Life
Gave her consent, free of pressure,
To immolate herself in blazing fire!
Be another Sita to walk through fire
x x x x x x
Blank she stared at the crowd in front,
Gathered to witness an awful scene
They were at her bridal feast.
They partook merrily of the gala feast.
With goblets held in raised hands,
They had wished her all bliss in life.
The same crowd remained in hushed lull,
With suspense pounding their hearts quicker,
Eager to see the drama - Act by Act,
Having watched the prelude to that tragic tale.
The High Priest performed his trite rites,
With incantations breaking the silence still.
The air around smelt of incense burnt.
And curls of smoke shot up to the sky
Like a statue carved from rock
Dumb she remained, she hardly stirred
Her legs were bound to a log of wood
Her hands, held tight behind her back
Before she knew what was next,
They pushed her down to the funeral pyre.
The flames of fire leaped above
And sucked her out with greedy tongues
x x x x x x
The crowd disbursed with slogans loud
They rejoiced over a new Deity made!
poem by Valsa George
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Seema-Boundary
I have made net as permanent home
Come across with many people and welcome
It does not me any solution to my worries
As I am in urgent need and in hurry
You seem to be religious
Your statement is really ambiguous
How come you are here for many hours?
Generally relation turn here very soar
I saw her virtually crying and in tears
She had lots of worries and unfounded fears
Her husband was dead for two years
She waited for that sweet voice to hear
I consoled her to be little patient
She must be living in past and not present
It is very difficult to forget dear and near ones
As this feeling can’t be shared by anyone
I am very good at face reading
I have not used it for any kind of trading
It has come through after years of experience
I can go through eyes and submit without variance
I saw her very knowledgeable and bold
She had vast experience but gone very cold
The death of her husband had nearly killed her
She was alone, lonely and so much to bother
I saw deep scars of face which were indicative of great struggle
I could guess she might have passed through ordeals with trouble
She had remained unperturbed but fully shaken
She was not in her control and fully mistaken
She would miss a lunch or dinner
Prepare it for orphan child who lived very near
This was her only satisfaction and aim
She wanted peace for departed soul without name
She was baking enough this before
She discontinued it after his death therefore
She has no where to go but remain in oblivion
This is her own world or you can call it pavilion
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Personal Trainer
husband
didn't pay attention when she started to change her look,
after all, she'd been saying how she wanted to for a while &
it seemed to make sense,
what with her going back to the gym full time,
after a period of time away
when they first had been married-
husband just went about his days
working more hours than he knew what to do with,
business was good &
with all the business around him seeming to fail,
he'd been putting away for the life he imagined in the future,
with or without
her-
but her time spent at the gym seemed to increase &
thought her body began to get trimmer, sexier, tighter, stronger &
she seemed to walk around the house with a new zest for life
(when he was there to see her) ,
he still didn't notice that
the personal trainer had moved in-
she had said something to him,
but he was listening less & less
as he had more & more to worry about at work,
for it was all part of building his empire.
the personal trainer was a less successful man
by the standard that money can by,
but he listened to her
as he traced her curves with his fingers in the gym
with palms of his hand smoothly gliding over her muscles
making her body quiver &
it wasn't long before in the car outside the gym
they consummated the professional relationship
again &
again &
again &
again.
as she began to show less interest in sex with her husband,
he wrote it off as a side-effect of marriage &
found himself a main squeeze on the side,
a 20 something who needed money to get her through college
with a perkiness that made him feel young again &
a body that wouldn't quit-
as he grew more distant from the wife,
she grew closer to the personal trainer,
until the day when she brought him home to the house,
when she swore the husband would be gone.
husband found out the way a husband will
when husband had been no longer interested
until another shows his face, as it is only jealousy then
which kicks in, making husband suddenly care-
but personal trainer put husband on the ground
when husband came into his own bedroom
to find personal trainer banging away his bride
who now had no interest in husband-
husband sued the personal trainer for assault &
bride to be divorced husband, taking half of everything he had,
breaking his empire down to nothing
as he had been stupid enough to not require a prenup
at the beginning of it all.
poem by Andrew Delapruch
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Bible in Poetry: 1 Corinthians 7
Marriage:
1’Tis good for man, not to marry.
2 With so much immorality,
Each man should have his own, one wife,
And each woman, own, one husband.
3 The husband should fulfill to wife,
His marital duty always;
And likewise, wife to her husband.
4 Wife's body doesn’t belong to her
Alone, but to her husband too.
In the same way, husband's body
Does not belong to him alone
But also to his wife as well.
5 Do not deprive each other then,
Except by mutual consent and
For just sometime, so that you may
Devote yourselves to some prayer.
Then come again together for
As Satan will not tempt you for
Your lack of self-control in life.
6 I say this as a concession,
And this is not a command then.
7 I wish all men were as I am.
Each man has his own gift from God;
One has this gift, another, that.
8 Now to unmarried and widows:
’Tis good to stay unmarried too.
9 If they can’t control themselves then,
’Tis better they should get married
Than, burn with passion in your life.
10 Lord’s command to the married ones:
A wife must not separate from husband.
11 But if she does, she must stay unmarried,
Or else be reconciled to her husband.
A husband mustn’t divorce his wife.
12 To rest I say (I, not the Lord) :
If any brother has a wife,
Who isn’t a believer but then,
She is willing to live with him,
He must not divorce her, as yet.
13 And if a woman has husband,
Who isn’t a believer as yet,
But is willing to live with her,
She must not divorce him as well.
14 For the unbelieving husband
Has been sanctified through his wife,
And the unbelieving wife too,
Has been sanctified through husband.
If not, your children wouldn’t be clean,
But as it is, they are holy.
15 But if the unbeliever leaves,
Then, let him do so anyway.
Believing man or woman is
Not bound in such circumstances;
For, God has called to live in peace.
16 How do you know, wife, whether you’ll
Save your husband anyway then?
Or, how do you know, husband then,
If you will save your wife surely?
17 Each one should hold the place in life
That Lord assigned to him on earth,
And to which the Lord has called him.
This rule I give to all churches.
18 Was man circumcised when he’as called?
He shouldn’t become uncircumcised.
Was man uncircumcised when called?
He should not be circumcised.
19 Circumcision is nothing then,
Uncircumcision is too naught.
To keep God's commands is what counts.
20 One should remain in situation,
In which he was, when God called him.
21 Were you a slave when you were called?
Don't let it trouble you at all—
If you can become free, do so.
22 For he who was a slave when called
By Lord is the Lord's freed man then;
Similarly, he who was free,
When he was called is slave of Christ.
23 For you were all bought at a price;
Do not become then slaves of men.
24 Each man, responsible to God,
Should stay in place, God called him to.
25 So now, something about virgins:
I have no command from the Lord,
I give a judgment as one who
By Lord's mercy is trustworthy.
26 Because of the present crisis,
’Tis good to remain as you are.
27 Are you married? Don’t seek divorce.
Are you unmarried? Don’t search spouse.
28 If you do marry, you haven’t sinned;
If virgin marries, she hasn’t sinned.
But those who marry, face troubles,
And I want you to escape this.
29 So what I mean is time is short.
From now onwards, those who have wives
Should live as if they didn’t have one.
30 And those who mourn, as if they didn’t;
And those happy, as if they weren’t;
And those who buy, as if it were not theirs;
31 And those who use the things of world,
As if they weren’t engrossed in them.
This world today is passing out.
32 Be free from concern anyway.
An unmarried man thinks of Lord's affairs—
How much more he can please the Lord.
33 A married man thinks of affairs of world—
How he can please his wife only—
34 His interests are divided.
An unmarried woman, virgin
Is concerned of the Lord's affairs:
She aims to devote to the Lord
In both her body and spirit.
A married woman is concerned
About the affairs of this world—
How she can please her husband then.
35 I’m saying this for your own good,
Not restrict you, but make you live
In total devotion to Lord.
36 If one thinks that he is acting
Improperly to the virgin,
He has been engaged to ahead,
And she is getting old in years,
And he feels that he must marry,
He should do as he wishes then.
He doesn’t sin. They should get married.
37 But man who has settled then well
The matter in his mind clearly,
And is under no compulsion
But has control over his will,
And who has made up in his mind
Not to marry the virgin still—
This man is doing the right thing.
38 So, he who marries the virgin does right,
But he who doesn’t marry, does ev’n better.
39 As long as he lives, a woman,
Is bound to her husband alone.
But if her husband dies, she’s free
To marry one, she wishes to,
But he must belong to the Lord.
40 She’s happier if she stays as she is—
And I do think I too have God’s Spirit.
(7-12-2007)
poem by John Celes
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You're living in paradise
I'm getting tired of hearing your silly complaints.
You're angry because your husband isn't a saint.
Your husband forgets and leaves the toilet seat up and you think this isn't very nice.
You think you have it bad but you're really living in paradise.
Your husband has a few flaws but in my eyes he's great.
When I tell you about some other husbands, he'll be a man who you 'll appreciate.
I've seen husbands who beat and raped their wives and some husbands who even threatened them with guns.
And you complain about the superficial things your husband has done.
Close to where I live, a man killed his wife and then set her on fire.
Be thankful that your life isn't so dire.
These poor women's lives have been completely destroyed.
And you have the nerve to complain because your husband goes out once a week with the boys.
Before you complain about your husband again, maybe you should think twice.
You think you have it bad but you're really living in paradise.
poem by Randy Johnson
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The Adulterous Wife
As her Children sleep in their bed
While her husband lays down his sleepy head
She quietly gets up and starts continuing her lies,
As this is the story, of the Adulterous wife.
She lies and cheats and do the sins that she shouldn't,
Sadly though, this isn't the first time for this woman
As in her past she has done this all before
Sadly her husband didn't know, that he had married a whore.
As when he is at work, she was never at home
And when her girl's slept, she was never alone
She lied and cheated and used her husband for a price
As this is the story of the Adulterous wife.
She sneaks out of the house whenever she can
So she can jump in the bed of another man
He then uses her, and then she lies to him
But neither can lie to GOD, when their beginning becomes their end.
And when her daughter's get older and they feel the strife
I wander if they will be like their mother, the adulterous wife
She argues and fights with her husband all the time
Loyalty and love to her husband has been left far behind.
The vow she swore to GOD she has broke it once again
Now she is a marked woman, in front of women and men
She has affairs with her lovers, that only the devil could believe
Asking them to come and rescue her, and set herself free.
She is never happy unless she is in another mans bed
Only happiness she brings that man, is when he is dead
She tells her lies and say all her men of hers are abusers
But she never let them know, that she is but a user.
And she'll keep her lies from yesterday unto today
And while she sins, other men lay down to pray
How sad it is to live that type of sinful life
But this is the true story of the Adulterous wife.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Husband's exit
Widow comes in existence with husband's exit
Painful memories to last with shaky feet
Whole life is in dark with no solution in sight
Life becomes burden and nothing goes right
Woman has some satisfaction if husband has gone away
He may return one day even if found another way
Widow is strictly not called with his exit from life
She stands legally as his estranged wife
Widower stage to felt if something is committed in excess
If husband is beating daily and provides no access
Sexual harassment followed by cruel treatment
Husband is buried alive in mind with resentment
It is living hell for woman to accept status of widow
No option is left for her to think of another window
It is dark future and unbelievable forecast for tomorrow
Nothing to think of world but keep quiet and lie low
Woman has tolerance power and world has acknowledged
She has come out of dark and at least without him managed
No one has dared to defy his womanhood for simple reason
That she is symbol of courage and well understood person
If men ever thinks that women can be played around
And desert them at will to be no where found
It is grave mistake and to be taken into count
Without woman it is almost difficult to mount
If woman is encouraged to show some guts
She may prove exceptionally talented figure, but
She has to be equally respected for her weak character
Now at least time has changed for her to show as formidable character
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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She Was A Nice Old Lady
Does it really matter one little bit at all
If only her family and her few friends memories of her do recall
She was a nice old lady that much of her I did know
But she did not die easily her end painful and slow
I had not seen her for somewhile but sad am I to say
That this evening one who knew her told me she was buried yesterday
In the flesh she will not be seen walking in the park again
But fond memories of her in those who knew her are destined to remain
Pre-deceased by her husband he died ten years ago
Their only offspring a Granddad in his late fifties the years on him begin to show
To her son she was a good mother and to her husband she was a good wife
A kind and caring person and one who did love life
Since her husband life departed she had lived on her own
She did not have a public profile and she was not well known.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Sonnet- The World Is Still Uncivilized
Jumps a woman, in her husband’s pyre!
People called it the practice of ‘sati’;
When women are doused alive, set afire
What is the stage of today’s society?
In orgies and arson, the world today,
Takes away the lives of more innocents;
And emotions high, leads to violence;
So treacherous life seems each day, some way.
And men are killed in cold-blood in daylight;
This world does not seem civilized as yet;
Where is our liberty and human rights?
Man behaves worse than animals, I bet.
Can we remove these evils in some way?
Lord, show us in future, a better day
poem by John Celes
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Step mother
Is step mother altogether different from real mother?
Every time this question emerges and bothers
Whether real or step mother the vacant place can’t be filled by others
It is woman who has heart to offer as kind feeler or soothers
It is very difficult to offer motherly affection
Hard to swallow bitterness as nothing is left for selection
One has to undergo rapid change and adjust to the situation
To share the grief even if there is real infatuation
You may like and love your own kith and kin
There is no love lost and always wins
You care for love and offer in return
Many things to forgo and many things to learn
Kids need enough care and love from both
you must have allegiance to God even without taking oath
To offer best love and attention at the cost of discredit
Even true love offered may need observation and merit
People will not appreciate good gesture and sacrifice
Motherhood needs recognition and need to suffice
Step mothers are always blamed for nothing
If no good name can be given then at least praise something
What does she get for playing this noble role?
Bad name and discredit for work as whole
Not easy to play role of wife with different approach
Many may meddle in the internal affairs and unnecessarily poke
It is holy task than holier
Many have played the role successfully even earlier
You should be careful and not to be choosey,
Task is not to difficult but not also very easy
It has never been appreciated in past
Apprehensions always persist and doubts cast
Single individual may not live to last it long
Indeed difficult position to be found and appreciated among
Who needs the step mother most?
The children who have dearly lost?
How does husband spend time and at what cost?
What is so important in life and what is must?
Life becomes dull and dry and without any aim
Not a single man will boost happiness or claim
It will be simple word game and all the blames
Whole system will be on fire and flames
Woman bears heavy brunt and finds it difficult
She is at receiving end and has to share the insult
God only knows how she copes with such ordeal?
She is doing tremendous work and makes life real
Lets us pass all the respect which ever is due
We may not know the situation or have any clue
Woman has very big heart with all the kindness and love
We must bow our head and her greatness simply believe
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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A Question
AND so in the death-darkened chamber they met,
The woman that once he had loved and the one he loved yet—
The wife who had warped his desire and the woman he could not forget.
They stood by the bier where between them he slept,
And the love he had lost in his wife to her swimming eyes leapt;
But the woman his life had belonged to—his paramour—spoke not nor wept.
It was only a story of sated desire—
Of a love merely sensual burnt to an ash by its fire,
And a husband who turned to a more luscious love that was his for the hire.
All had sinned. For the husband had killed by his clutch,
Rough-handed, the fruit of a love that had dropped at his touch.
One woman's great sin was not loving, his wife's was in loving too much.
And so he had died; it was over at last;
And across him the two women looked at each other aghast—
Across his cold corse, and across the cold corse of the loathsome dead Past!
Then the smouldering love of the wife leapt to flame,
And she poured forth her kisses upon him, and called on his name.
But the other said “No, he is nothing to you; soul and body I claim!”
They looked at each other awhile. Said the wife wearily,
“He is mine; for I loved him, and ever shall love him; let be!”
But the other sneered, “No, he is mine, and mine only, because he loved me!”
Then the two laid their hands on the body between;
And fought for it, wife against paramour, fiercely, unseen—
For the body diseased and polluted, as ever his spirit had been.
And this is a question for answer in Hell:
To which of the two did his spirit belong, can you tell?
Think, was it the woman he loved, or the one who had loved him too well?
poem by Arthur Henry Adams
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She Was a Great Woman - Coretta Scott King
She was a woman of strength
She handled great responsibility as her husband fought for our freedom
She was a woman of vision
As she stood by her husband she could see what he saw and continue to stand
She was a woman of courage
She never backed down because of danger that was around
She was a woman of intelligence
Being educated never propelled her to an attitude of haughtiness
She was a woman of passion
Once Martin was gone she continued the quest for the accomplishment of his dream
She was a woman of prayer
Her communication with God let her know that she must carry on
She was a woman of greatness
She never tried to place herself out front
She was a woman of servanthood
She served others while not seeking to be served
She was a woman of determination
She traveled near and far to carry on the legacy of her husband
She was a woman full of life
She loved God, her husband, her children and all mankind until the day she was called home
She was a Great woman
poem by Deidre Blair
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The guardian of the flames
Always there have been
something holy to me,
about flames
that comes alive suddenly.
It’s a great thing
to see flames spread
and to see yellow licking tongs,
consume wood
and to get heat, energy
and comfort from it.
At a time human existence
surely depended on
keeping the secret
of flames
and to make sure,
that the last glowing coals
do not die.
When I was a child,
my brother and me
almost burnt a hillock
and some residences down
by misadventure.
The more I tried to kill
the small fire,
that I started in the long brown winter grass,
the more the fire spread.
It’s a fact that my behind
also burnt on that occasion
from a hiding
with a old fan belt
and I learned quickly,
what the power of fire is
and how to act responsibly with matches.
Tonight I am the guardian of the flames
at the fireplace in the lounge
and I take care of the hot coals
and have to put wood on
before the fire dies.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Human sacrfices (Rituals) \\\\\\\^^^^^^^
Mentioned in Rigveda, more exactly Soma Mandala
Means praising with some energizing qualities,
And a ritual of drink, also treatment of asthma,
We find it also at later Vedic and Persian cultures.
Ephedra sinica containing ephedrine is a Soma plant
Used as a drink in both Vedic and Zoroastrian tradition,
'The building up of the fireplace performed over-night'
Is Atiratra Agnicayana as a Srauta ritual of Vedic religion.
Attested in the Yajurveda Samhitas, its mantras are in Brahmana
With a bird-shaped altar as a building of bricks, which a hard work requires
With various shapes like mahavedi, uttaravedi, dhishnya and drona
This 'sacrificial altar' in the Vedic religion has a sacrificial fire.
As adhvaradhishnya is an altar at Soma, where something is sacrificed
Yajña is a ritual of sacrifice derived from the Vedic times
They think that offering something into the fire, God can be reached
Temple rites are a combination of both Vedic and Agamic rituals.
The sacrificial division of Hindu scripture is the Karma-Kanda
The most famous Shrauta Brahmins maintain these ancient rituals.
A few thousand of them perform the Agnihotra or basic Aupasana
And the fire sacrifice is always twice daily, at dawn and dusk.
Shakti means cosmic existence, liberation and divine feminine power
Shakti most actively manifests through fertility and female embodiment
Also presented in males, Shakti also means 'The Great Divine Mother'
Human sacrifices are carried out with Shakti, who is there present.
A Sati is a widow, self-immolating on her husband’s pyre, after his death,
To guarantee the couple's reunion in the afterlife and indians say
That Sati releases herself from the “painful cycle of birth and rebirth”
And all these human sacrifices for religious reasons still exist today.
Genesis has Abraham preparing to sacrifice his son to our Lord
Abraham takes his own son up on a mountain and an altar he builds
Tying his son to the altar, he puts a knife to his throat, without a word
But God tell him this is just a test of his faith, we are all His kids.
Jephthah makes a vow to the LORD, over the Ammonites the victory asking
He promises to give to the LORD the first thing coming out without his demand
To greet him when he returns in triumph, for sacrifice it, as a burnt offering.
''You shall be fuel for the fire, your blood shall flow throughout the land.
You shall not be remembered, for I, the LORD, have spoken.''-this is His command.
Copyright © ® Marieta Maglas. All rights reserved.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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(Meera) The Marriage Talk
Meera reached the proper age,
That proposed her marriage.
Her mother was worried,
It was time, she be married.
But Meera was unconcerned,
Since she herself had married
Krishna, her dream husband.
So, she wasn’t at all worried.
They sent messengers
To other Rajput kings
With their royal message,
Proposing Meera’s marriage.
None came forward
To take her hand,
But the King of Mewar
Was willing to marry her.
Kumbha Rana was his name.
To marry her, he came.
Meera was quite upset,
And first didn’t accept.
“I can’t break our tradition
By accepting another one,
Already when I’m married
To Krishna, my husband.”
Her mother cried and said,
“My life I would have laid
With your father in the pyre,
You know, why I’m here.”
“Because of you I’m alive.
If today your father is alive,
He would’ve had it done
To our utmost satisfaction.”
“What’s not possible now,
After it you run how?
Of what’s possible,
Why can’t you now avail? ”
”Our Rajput tradition says
A grown up girl, who marries
Should serve her husband,
And die with her husband.”
Meera gave deaf ears.
She cried and shed tears.
They came to the conclusion
That Meera had gone sick then.
Doctors came to check
But they went back
Without giving any treatment,
Not knowing her ailment.
Meera’s eyes became red
As she cried and cried.
Her mother was upset
O’er her pitiable sight.
Till the last moment
Poor Meera did expect
Krishna would save her
But He disappointed her.
Here and there people walked.
About the marriage they talked.
Kumbha Rana arrived in the scene.
It was her marriage day one.
As a bride, Meera was decorated.
In Rajput style, she was dressed.
But Meera was in tears.
Her face showed fears.
Her mother said, “Meera, listen
It’s our prestige, not a fun,
Our two kingdoms, it’ll strengthen.
Rajput clan will glow and shine.”
“A mother is the first Goddess.
Next only your Krishna comes.
I’m your mother saying this.
Be bold, happy and wise.”
Meera replied, “Yes, mother
Now I obey your order
As your way is Krishna’s way.
Your word is His word this day.”
She spoke no more words.
She stepped on the dais
To hold the second hand
And accept her new husband.
poem by Rajaram Ramachandran
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A Baby In The House
I knew that a baby was hid in that house,
Though I saw no cradle and heard no cry;
But the husband was tip-toeing 'round like a mouse,
And the good wife was humming a soft lullaby;
And there was a look on the face of the mother,
That I knew could mean only one thing, and no other.
The mother, I said to myself, for I knew
That the woman before me was certainly that;
And there lay in a corner a tiny cloth shoe,
And I saw on a stand such a wee little hat;
And the beard of the husband said, plain as could be,
'Two fat chubby hands have been tugging at me.'
And he took from his pocket a gay picture-book,
And a dog that could bark, if you pulled on a string;
And the wife laid them up with such a pleased look;
And I said to myself, 'There is no other thing
But a babe that could bring about all this, and so
That one thing is in hiding somewhere, I know.'
I stayed but a moment, and saw nothing more,
And heard not a sound, yet I know I was right;
What else could the shoe mean that lay on the floor,
The book and the toy, and the faces so bright;
And what made the husband as still as a mouse?
I am sure, very sure, there's a babe in that house.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Childhood friend
I saw childhood friend named as Ibhrahim
Very pious, devoted and near replica of Him
True Momin(follower of truth) and servant of poor
He will welcome, provide the service but never show door
"Hello, Hello I shouted and ran after
He saw me and instantly greeted each other
He was medical practitioner and had dispensary
An ordinary man in outfit and a true missionary
I saw some kind of invisible pain on his face
He was pale, concerned individual and almost chased
He was never like this before so I hunted him
I simply stared in his eyes and beamed
He opened up slowly by saying
I am dejected and heavily paying
My dispensary was about to be burnt
I was shocked to hear from his mouth when learnt
"Two more brothers suffered same fate" he just broke down
"Their houses were burnt of late" he made me known
One brother has sold out property and moving out
Another was saved miraculously and what more to talk about
I could feel the pain behind his voice
He had every reason to feel bad without any choice
"Do you know I could make out a man in crowd"?
"I had saved his wife when she was almost dead"
I silently heard him without watching his face
"If you have holy reason to burn my clinic"
"Please do so along with me as an undesired person"
The crowd heard him silently and withdrew without any reason
He looked at the roof and thanked almighty
For sparing life and showing mercy
I saw now a man now in great pain
It has almost killed him and drained
I am living my beautiful motherland
To go abroad and settle in alien land
I loved the people so much here
I don't know what will be waiting there
Now was the turn for me to think
His plight was genuine and made me to sink
He had only one solace that crowd had spared
Otherwise he was almost over and dead
*Ibhrahim… name ….Momin...follower of truth
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Are You a Good Husband?
All married men want to be called a good husband
A good husband is a decent husband
Mr. Husband what you done to deserve this decency?
Has your wife ever referred to you as her good husband?
It is known that the eyes cannot see itself
Unless by reflection. Have you ever asked
Your wife for a performance appraisal
Honey, how did I perform last year?
On a scale of one to ten, one for very poor
Ten for excellent, how did I perform?
Your wife may think you are now on new drugs
If you receive less than six, you need to
Start fence mending before it is too late
A good husband sees his wife as his friend
A nice husband treats his wife as his lover
A decent husband regards his wife as a soul-mate
You should anticipate what your wife
Will need before she makes any request
By the way, have you ever bought a gift
For your wife without an occasion?
Do you have to wait for her birthday?
To inform her that she is very special to you?
Do you have to wait for your wedding anniversary?
To tell her that she is the best thing in your life
When last did you talk to your wife in-laws?
When last did you visit your wife in-laws?
What have you done to be called a good husband?
Ask for performance appraisal on a regular basis
Remember, if you make your wife happy
You will get happiness in return
poem by Julius Babarinsa
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