Special Mentions: Poetry 2009



- Apeksha Harihar

Deep within my heart, a voice called out to me.
It asked me if I’m still alive, whether I want to live
From head to toe, you are ruined it said,
You are destroyed in every way.
You have a weak will; your spirits are now low.
 You won’t be able to face a happy world anymore.
Deep within it kept speaking a voice that would never stop.

And then I rose to put forward my condition, and then I spoke again
From head to toe I’m experienced not ruined, I screamed in my defence.
The phases of my life have taught me a lot, yes it has made me cry a lot
But, now I am not sitting back, depressed, lonely and dark.
I am up on my feet again challenging everything to its mark.

My inner voice is speaking again,
It’s asking me to leave, leave the desire of love behind and
Drown into the deep.
Save me for I don’t want to lose, I want to fight for my life
Live until the very end and prove that I am right.
No pain, no sorrow, no despair will remain, after I am gone.
So as I live I will go through them, not unhappy that I was born.



Neelima P

White walls
And diamond tiles
Over my head
As they gelled my womb
And looked for a life.

The red report
Had my favorite
Secret .I grabbed
It to see if there was
A form, a shape,

A beginning, an end,
A breath, a beat,
They didn’t explain
The spine and the head
But I saw

My heart beat there.



By Nikunj Jain

And when he’s written it all
He wishes he could write

After years of pain, anger, suffering, hatred, agony...
Its vellications of joy and happiness he longs for

After countless stares, it’s plastic smiles he longs for
After decades of solitude, it’s delusions of love, he longs for
After centuries of insanity, it’s imperfection, he longs for
After infinities of silence, it’s frailty of words, he longs for
After burials of pens, it’s that resurrection of that bar-less prison he longs for
After an era of darkness, it’s that obstruction of day he longs for
After a lifetime of strength, it’s human weakness, he longs for

He’s had his share of truths, it’s fake promises he longs for
No more eternal dreams, it’s feeble memories he longs for

His canvas, still, plain white, (may be faded), yet, it’s the darkness of red he longs for  



- Zakirhussain

I yearn to paint with the pink colour of life
Pink from a missy’s blushing cheeks, which reveal her unannounced love.
Pink from the rose in her tresses, which her lover gifted.
Pink from her soft lips, which experienced the warm kiss.

I yearn to paint with the green colour of life
Green from the plant of Tulsi, which a mother waters every morn.
Green from the bangles in her wrist, which sing a lullaby.
Green from the banana leaf, which holds lovingly cooked meals.

I yearn to paint with the black colour of life
Black from the speck of kohl, which protects from evil eyes.
Black from the piece of charcoal, Hung from the door.
Black from the eyes, which cast evil eyes.

I yearn to paint with red colour of life
Red from a martyr’s blood, which stained the battlefield.
Red from the pyre’s fire, which cremated his body.
Red from his widow’s vermilion, which deserted her parting.

I yearn to paint with the white colour of life
White from the Imperialists’ skin, against whose rule, the Father fought.
White from the salt of Dandi, which became his weapon.
White from the cotton thread, which spun the fabric of a nation.



- Indira Ballal

Go on!
Sweep everything under the carpet!
Like an ostrich, hide your head in the sand!
This has become a game
Of "In-The-Pond, On-The-Bank.

Many were the games we played,
Like unthinking, naive children:
"Hide & Seek"--you hid and I did seek,
And "Ring-O-Ring-O-Roses",
But, it’s me who fell down.

We played "Leader, Leader, Change, Change",
I led, you changed;
The mad swings and wild see-saws,
I took it all, till "I Spied",
You weren't playing at all.

Only, I was playing,
Playing alone,
A game of " Solitaire"
In my lonely mind:
And, it isn't Child's play anymore.