The successful girl

Her rocket reached the Mars,

Name inscribed in golden letters,

In the records of human civilization,

As a first woman in such execution.

The premier applauded her elegant feat,

Appealed her to give the nation a note,

“I love India” was the first message she did deliver,

“Hi honey, all credits are yours,” was the note for her lover.

She forgot the man, who took her to school holding her finger,

The person who prepared her lunch box with affection and care,

The teacher who lent his mind selflessly to make her rich in mathematics,

Ignored the father who rehearsed at home, the formulas of arithmetic.

 Should youthful exuberance be blamed for her such act?

Or it is a failure of the society to teach her the etiquette?

Was she a truly great and successful person?

Or a failure in humanitarian considerations?

Note---In this poem, I did not try to reach to conclusion whether the girl was right or wrong by forgetting to show gratefulness towards her anxious, ever-loving parents, and the teacher who shapes up her person. You, my honorable readers decide whether she was right or wrong. I will be back showing the reactions of her parents and a teacher in my next poem.

The Ganges of my life 5

Now your bank is crowded and you are excited for the growth,

To my pleasure, the flow of my Ganges is increasing its width.

Amidst thrill, you forget your lone devotee, his emotions, tears,

Overwhelmed by the adulation, fun and laughter of new comers.

You prefer to go away from him who honestly worship thee,

 Ever since, you have been a small brook at the Gangotri.

You forget him, who constructs temples at your shores,

To systematize caring and respecting of your source.

Riding on the wheel of time, you will find an ocean one day,

That will intend to gulp your pious water and block your way.

Frightened by its furious roar, sensing a loss of your individuality,

You will make a vain effort to retreat with all your capacity.

Our honeymoon period will come to your consideration,

Then you will gauge perfectly the depth of my devotion.

You will curse yourself for the injustice you did with me,

But the stretch of your sight will not be able to trace me.

No one ever recovers the past era or the drained water,

Time will swallow up my existence, the ocean your blubber.

I am negligible, diminutive do not bother about me,

But you are my great Ganges, how can I forget thee? 

The Ganges of my life 4

I do not fret for the fury of flood in my domain,

That devastates at times my peaceful habitation,

Its rain of hurt emotions liable and not your core,

I know my Ganges; trust her humble composure.

I cannot see the reflection of my face in your run,

Dirt of misunderstanding is posing the obstruction,

I do not blame you for the turbidity of your content,

I am wrong somewhere and a blameworthy culprit.

How can I tolerate a single dust particle in your pour?

Can I bear anyone saying my Ganges to be impure?

I wish to see the divinity in all over your person,

Therefore, I lend my honest efforts to make you shine.

Don’t take it for grant as overpowering and intervention,

 These words don’t exist in the book of true devotion.

You are not an ordinary river of insignificant value for me,

Descended from heaven, my sanctimonious Ganges is thee.

I will do whatsoever will be beneficial for your glory,

Expect from you the pure and pious morph of Gangotri

Desire the same purity, lucidity all during your path,

Hold you in my heart as long as I am on the earth.

The Ganges of my life 3

You, the Ganges of my life, are a so dignified entity,

 That my words are incompetent to narrate thee.

I do not know how to describe your beneficence,

And to do justice to your greatness and excellence. 

Tortured by the trickery behavior of the world,

When I feel humiliated, my innocent heart bleeds.

I rush to you, spread myself on your sand clueless,

Your sympathetic heart realizes my grievance.

Your core becomes turbulent in my untold concern,

Wish to console me; reach me with your undulation.

You whisper in my ear with your airy tone of the wind,

Soothe me being my own; instigate vibration in my chords.

I spring up jubilant with self-confidence and new vigor

To combat with ease every fiercest battle I encounter.

Tell me why I should not adore and respect you this much,

Tell me why my heart should not be sensitive to your touch.

Better, you take an assessment of my truths, my emotions,

I trust, rely on your compassion, honesty and discretion.

The Ganges of my life 2

You are the ever-worshiped Ganges of my life,

On whose charity, mercy and blessings, I survive.

You water my barren land, bless it with varied vegetation

 Make it worth living; give my life a meaningful direction.

Your sandy riverbed is my courtyard, perennial flow my path

Riverbank my home, air blows from your surface my breath.

Your flow fulfills my thirst, products satisfy my yearn,

Your babble fetch me music, bringing my life to perfection.

I worship you; Let the world blame me a panegyrist,

I do not bow before another heaven; regard me as an atheist.

The Ganges of my life

                                                 You are the holy Ganges of my life,

At whose blissful and resourceful bank I thrive.

Your merciful flow wipes the dirt of my person,

Purifies me, gives my life a desired perfection.

You irrigate and nurture my literary creations

With your enriched, caring and witty run.

The lullabies from your soft and melodious tone,

Lure me to ecstasy in their elegant fascination.

I fish my satisfaction, peace and pleasure,

From your generous, warm, amiable nature.

I am a boat on your wave, a fish in your water,

For me, life without you is an impractical matter.

Constellations are the witnesses of my adoration,

For your flow, your grandeur and your person.

I am indebted to you for all those happiness you share,

Believe and hope to stay blessed as this forever.