Prize! Poem by Geetha Jayakumar
Prize!
If my pen keeps on flowing towards meditation.
People will declare me dead and bury me alive.
For they can see my eyes closed.
Not even bother to check whether I breathe in or not.
When I was buried deep in my meditation
For they themselves declared me soul less
And buried my body deep down in distress.
After meditation when I open my eyes
I found myself buried in graveyard.
Thank you for offering me the prizes which
I got along with your kind praises.
Though when alive,
I couldn't get any recognition.
Now its the time to come out of my graveyard,
Just to tell thank you my dear!
Let me relish those prizes
While I am resting in my grave yard
Which I am going to wear
For they were the beautiful
Jewels to be worn around my neck.
They are the prize given
Mistaking me for soul less one.
How can I forget
For they were given by dear valuable person.
My dear don't forget to engrave my name in golden letters.
I am happy to see my unmistakable name engraved
Let me relish those wonderful moments
Thank you for the recognition given.
Now I am flying on top on my way to heaven.
I hope this poem is going to reach unmistakably the right person.
Though he buried me alive declaring me a soul less one
Thank you my dear from core my heart!
To accept anything with smile is also a part of meditation!
Thank You!
©ALL RIGHTS RESERVED BY GEETHA JAYAKUMAR 2014
© 2014
I see in this poem an attempt to jest at the mockery of recognitions conferred upon someone posthumously. While alive, he lives unnoticed... but after death, honours are generously conferred upon him...! Any way you are fortunate to rise up from the grave like Lazarus to see the recognitions and hear the praises that come your way!
A brilliant piece with a good message.............Geetha.........when in life one is not recognised and after most sought after.......strange state of mind people blessed with.................
some times it happens...people some times forget to understand the feelings of others...nice and brilliant..................
Nazir Akbarabardi (Akbarabad]Agra) ek azeem awami shayer the. Unke zamane mein unhein kabhi bara shayer tasleem nahin kiya geya, Woh chaurahon per baith kar apni nazmein aam logon ko sunate the. Unhon ne 8 hindustani bhashaon mein apni kavitaen likheen. Woh aam logon mein bahut lokpriya the. Beesvin sadi mein unhein ek bada shayer mana geya. Unki nazmon mein Aadminama aurRrorinama bahut mashhoor hayn. Unka ek sheyr: - Choolhey ke aage aag jo jalti huzoor hay Jitne hayn khas sub mein yehi khas noor hay. So if a paining treatment that is not singular with you should not me felt so much. You have written a nice and convincing poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/18/2024 11:33:40 AM # 1.0.0.1119
It's a poignant emotional poem where the soul is making an ardent statement for it's recognition. Thank you Geetha for highlighting such an issue.