How people actually feel when they die? ?
Where do they go? what do they do?
I want to know
but how?
...
Please! don't look at me like a stranger
I fear...
I may lose everything familiar...
...
I'm not the bad guy you think
If I say that
You won't believe it now
And I can't say it how
...
When he said he loved me
I made the sketches
On my journal
Of little fishes swimming in the stream
...
Seen or unseen
Heard or unheard
That doesn’t matter
The beauty is beauty
...
Dear...
(I still don’t know if I may use this word 'dear'? !
As I’m no more dear to you
Nor will I ever be,
...
O mother! No more fairy tales, please!
I don’t want to consume my entire life
In the delusion of prince charming
When-
...
Each time I pick up those dirty plates
I see the leftovers
And I remember the boy
Digging the dingy box
...
Each time I visit Vatika Park
I see children playing
Grandmothers praying
And Women gossiping
...
We were playing with the colour of heart
Then, he sprinkled some white
I got rosy
Although, I loved the colour of heart
...
In the dark
I see no evil
Nothing to blame
No mystery to reveal
...
I had a shadow.
Ya, a shadow.
That accompanied me since morning!
A shadow, that followed me even in my lonely ways,
...
I’m not afraid of dark I would say.
But-
Seeing the sunset,
I always say-
...
My name doesn’t matter
As long as you know me
My fame doesn’t matter
As long as you don’t abandon me
...
What’s tradition?
Tradition is the unkind humanity
That seizes little freedom of the feeble.
And instructs you to live in a closet.
...
I’m an amateur poet love writing and reading poetry with my limited experience and exposure to the world. My love for poetry isn’t a sudden discovery. I loved it since my childhood. Although! My earliest interest was in poems written in my mother tongue. Later it shifted to English poems. I belong to Assam, a north-eastern state of India. I grew up in a rural household and did my schooling in Jawahar Navodaya Vidyalaya, Lakhimpur. After passing out I majored in English literature and completed my BA from Lakhimpur Girls College, Lakhimpur in 2008. Then, I moved to Guwahati and joined prestigious Cotton College for my masters in English literature. But I did not complete the course. After marriage along my husband, I moved to Vishakhapatnam. It is from Andhra University, Vishakhapatnam I completed my Masters in 2012 in English language and literature. I must mention while doing MA I received endless support from my husband, professors and friends of Andhra University. They were the moments I can never ever forget. After that, we moved to Jamnagar, Gujarat. There, I did my B.Ed. in 2013. In 2014, I joined KV2, INF lines as contractual PGT English. I worked there for 6 months. In March 2015, we moved to Port Blair, Andaman and I joined a local KV. But here too I did not work long. Presently, I’m a housewife. I like all forms of poetry. Although, I believe poetry is the untamed language of our heart, that one can’t frame in a definite metre, or one cannot even measure it in scale. It has its own flow and rhythm. We can just follow it to its destination. I love both modern and classical poems.)
When People Die
How people actually feel when they die? ?
Where do they go? what do they do?
I want to know
but how?
If I die I won't be able to come back and say
Strange isn't it?
But everybody dies
some early in the morning
some when the evening is beginning
some after a joyful day
some with thousand debts to pay
some make millions cry
and some with none to say good bye!
But my friend!
how we die
that's none others' choice
but we do.
If you want to die a thousand's death then live for others
say our fathers.
Or die with none to mourn.
So, my dear
have no fear
This is a tavern
we have to return.
Bakuli Bhakali is an interesting and wonderful poet with a vivid imagination and a skill for observing mundane things with precision and turning them into poems.. She writes with a great zeal and often deals with social issues that are very relevant without being too preachy about them.. Read her poems with an open mind and expect to leave with a number of contemplations. I have had the good luck to read her poems and comment on them, and wish to have it in the future :)
Action begins where true emotion and intentions are there. When you think, speak, talk, act and experience an emotion is created. This emotion decides your intention. Until you speak, write, talk people won't know your intention. And the moment people know your intention an emotion is created in them and that emotion let them work accordingly. What had happened, what's happening and what'll happen it all depends on three things - emotion, intention and action. When somebody makes a speech or post a comment then they let us know their intention. The knowledge of their intention will make you respond with your thoughts, generate emotion and finally you achieve perception. Your action will be based on this perception. So, you can't ignore any of them.
The tramp we meet in railway station Bazar or roadsides Was not poor He's just needy But we're poor And perhaps greedy too In spite of having everything We couldn't offer him anything.
Poetry is the wild weeds Grown, from unsown seeds It's not just what you read in books Not always as it looks It's a scratch out of rage On a blank page It's the lament of a wrecked heart Expressed when our mind was not alert You don't need letters to lament Books to comment What you need is an unprejudiced empty mind And a heart, that's kind"
Your innocence accompanies you until you're ignorant And the day you're wise you become wicked too
If I don't respond to your call I'm either asleep or lost So, don't disturb me, you idiot! You know not how hard it is to forget oneself when you're awake or alive
You'll have stories to narrate until you're alive The day you go out of stories! You simply die! So, good or bad Happy one or sad one Every time you'll be in need of a story Just to realize you're alive!
Every time you've got a story to tell You'll need a good listener If you don't have one your story has no significance at all!
I can't be a part of social gathering! That doesn't mean I'm not social. I just enjoy being myself rather than seeing me as they want to.
My thoughts look so familiar that sometimes I'm just confused between my thoughts and my memories. It may be because my thoughts are the creation of my memories. Or my memories are saved as I think.
Writing a poem is always pleasant! Except the harsh one that comes red. Yet, it's too alive to murder.
I hope you return sometimes.. I miss your fine poems.. A hello from me, when you see this Bakuli :)