a song for me-

A song for me i heard, far away it seemed,
While in your wombs mother, soft blessed hymn,
A naive desire for unborn glory,your chords echoed,
A prayer for an unripe story, silkened and slowed.

Mother once more-May I hear the voice pristine?
wombs beckon mother, bring me home, to your aureolar sheen..

A song for me I heard,A lullaby from a nearby land,
Granny cradled me, the soothened touch of her hand.
Entwined her fingers in mine, shadowed the kins of sorrows,
weaved dreams for her son's brightened, clear morrows.

Sit by me, May I rest my head holding your apron strings?
And I sleep with my fairy's sight,as sonatas of my bliss she sings..
granny once more,show me the brightest star yonder-
Where you promised one day, shiningly you would appear..

Indrajit ghosal
Copyright(c)indrajitghosal2007
A Child-Widow.


Draped in colors of sombre white,
Sits clueless the small widow-child.
Losing her colors with one oldie's death,
maneless , a childhood maimed by fate.

"A Widow is a sinner, A sinner" said the Men,
versed in vedas, Brahmins the most sane-
"rip her from masses, a bad omen she is
Let the outcast dwell in widow's shanties"
"Worse than Death, a cursed shadow on the human clan,
Or die sati purified,and pray to be born again as A man"

"With the patters of rain, her legs shan't thrill to dance.
And she be fed twice, a spartan meals glance"
they said, "with His death , her desires must die,
half dead ye, talk in hushed tone , thou mustn't forget".

She would learn soon, when she would grow,
she's dwarfed forever, by men and their feigned show.
The norms denies a widow to love or emote-
tainted life , a forced loser, lifeless her thirsty soul floats.

Playground that's devoid of rainbow hues and greens,
For she wears the color of decayed and pitied weans,
one color unbetrayed remains the orange sun's flashes,
unrealized songs manyflew off in red with the ashes.
unsung-
unlamented-


Indrajit Ghosal
Copyright(c)indrajitghosal 2007

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