Aniruddha Pathak Poems

India's slow growth— a drag on the world,
A parrot says— a caged little bird—
Bird that parrots what's taught,
Bird, in golden cage caught,
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Happiness, ah what a fragrant smell!
Which trailing testing time,
Smells its sweetest sublime;
‘Pon taking a pill bitter as hell,
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Soon as come you go
O Rain, be with me,
I've this quenchless thirst.
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I laid my heart bare
At starry strings there,
Unmoved blank that stare.
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Breezy moments before her arrival
That none what so in the world can rival,

The fury unfurled well before comes she,
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Check up your old childhood notebook,
Hides in it a child's wistful look,
The rookie has scribbled therein
Voices of heart from his within;
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Man's repute salt be of his life,
Finest treasure in itself rife,
Edge that gives sharpness of a knife,
Perfume that fragrant makes his life.
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A perfect poem never gets born
Howsoever you try and get torn.
A work ‘tis in progress,
Poet too if I guess,
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The man is not,
Nor yet this world,
Everything comes to exit,
Nothing on stone is writ,
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Love and hate, no opposite words,
Oh what a twain of chirping birds!
Love ‘lone can make no world go round,
Hate seems to contribute fair ground.
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