Bijay Kant Dubey Poems

When the jaruls hang by
In the months of Chaitra and Baisakh
Bearing the brunt of heat and summer,
My heart leaps up in
...

I cannot stop, but can see
The beauties of flower bunches
Whole passing through
Sometimes playfully
...

What had I from God
And what did I get it in return,
My life you do not know it,
Let me ruminate over.
...

I standing with a bouquet of flowers to give to
But my love is not in this world.

For my brother.
...

I did not see,
Just heard him about,
Saw him in the photograph.
...

Niscchal prem,
Kahan wah niscchal prem, amar prem
Aur jo uske puyjari?
Kahan uski jalati jwala?
...

What sutra is it? Is it a Paglet sutra? Mr.Paglet in the vortex of sutras, experimenting from drugs, Bohemian life to hippie culture, smoking, moving in search of of mental peace and recuperation, from place to place in the company of vagrants, gossip-masters, ramblers, vagrants, gypsies, mystics, mendicants, minstrels, bards, mystics, babas, tantrics, sadhus, yogis and fakirs and learning the secrets of life, man, Nature and creation, samadhi and mahasamadhi. Sometimes yoga, sometimes dhyana, sometimes danda-baithaka in their turn engaging him from time to time, a poet from America with his anti-war stand, anti-Vietnam war agendum, away from material prosperity to in search of peace, happiness and content wandering from hill station to station to temple towns and cities and resorts. Take you ganja from a clay pipe and spell you, Vyom-Om in the company of sadhus and mendicants. But where lies it the joy of living, the peace of mind, the happiness of heart, say you, say you? Nowhere, friend. Go about beating you, the Beat dhuna. Om shantih shantih shantih.

Yah eisa-waisa sutra nahi hai, Paglet Baba ka sutra hai, ganja taano aur prem se bolo. dharma-shankat hai, dharma-shankat hai! My brother! (This is not a this-that sutra, Mr.Mendicant teacher's sutra, formula is it, take you the puffs of ganja and speak with love, religion in crisis, religion in crisis! My brother!)
...

I saw a generation, I saw a generation lost in drugs and intoxicant things
Without job and employment, without work for sustenance destroying
And the Govt. taking excise taxes on the intoxicant things
Without caring for all those sick and dying and dying for,
...

The Beats were but the Western Bauls,
Krishnites,
The fellows of Hare Rama, Hare Krishna Movement,
The romantics turned Bohemians,
...

The Zigzagged Paths of Life

I thought
Life would go this way
...