Kar Lo Duniya Mutthi Mei, The Ad For Mobile Connectivity

Kar Lo Duniya Mutthi Mei, The Ad For Mobile Connectivity

A slim girl smilingly
On the billboard
Advertising,
Advertising
With the mobile,
Mobile phone handset
Into the hands,
Hands of hers
And the wires
Plugged,
Plugged into the ears
With the music playing
And she,
She finely tuned,
Tuned to the song,
Song, dance and music,
Music and its beats,
Beats and vibes,
Vibes of modernity and modern living,
With
Kar lo,
Kar lo duniya mutthi mei,
She saying,
Saying it so nicely,
Presenting, presenting it so beautifully,
Stylistically,
Clutching the world
Into her hands.

© Bijay Kant Dubey

http://www.poetrybits.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/GIRL-WITH-MOBILE-PHONE-150x150.jpg

The Golden Brown Jackal

The Golden Brown Jackal

The golden brown jackal
Often see I
Passing by,
Slipping through
With the swift steps
The jackal,
The golden brown
Brownish,blackish jackal
Appearing from the burrows
In search of food
During the night time
And slipping past swiftly
Into the bushes,
To the lonely tracts
The jackal,
The golden brown
Brownish, blackish jackal
With the glowing-glowing eyes,
Deep and burning,
Burning deep and lighting
From far
Vanishing into,
Disappearing so fast
Taking to secluded domains,
The wild forest tracts
Full of exotic flora and fauna,
The animal world
So full of awe and suspense.

© Bijay Kant Dubey

http://www.poetrybits.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/JACKAL-150x150.jpg

My English Hindustani English

You do not take me for
A pucca Englishman,
Speaking Standard English,
Impeccable English,
Not even for an Anglo-Indian,
Not a gora sahib,
But a brown, very brown sahib,
An Hindustani man
As no Englishman am I
Nor a European too.

I am an Indian, an India man,
A Hindustani boy
Speaking in English,
Just trying to speak in
Haltingly, hesitantly
Not so fluent, proficient in,
Not even conversant with
The nuances and idiosyncrasies of it,
Never, never an Englishman,
But, but a Hindustani man,
Speaking, speaking Hindustani English.

My dear friends, ladies and gentlemen,
Take me not for an Englishman,
Even an Anglo-Indian
Nor for a convent-educated boy,
A Hindustani boy, boy am I
Vernacular-educated,
Never, never a convent boy,
But a rural boy
Learning by rote to speak in English,
Putting paan to my mouth
To speak in.

I thinking and thinking to speak,
Speak in English,
Framing sentences to express,
Sometimes fumbling and faltering badly,
Misspelling the words,
Beginning to stammer,
Sometimes failing to put it before,
What to say and how to
As words come not,
Sentences fail I to construct,
A bilingual, trilingual am I.

Goonda, chor, badmash
My words,
Ram Sing, come here,
Order I
Like a sahib calling
Call I
My waiter, orderly
In an English tone
To show that I know English,
That I a sahib of some sort
Speaking in English,
Ordering in the likewise manner.

History, History of The World Know I Not

History, history of the world
Know I not,
How was it created,
How vast is it,
When did it originate,
How the end of the mysterious universe?

How did I come into this world,
Where to go finally,
What the pathway end,
What is man’s history,
What the history of the world,
What the truth, what the reality,
Who to tell it?

Kavita Utsav

Graffiti, banners, festoons,
Bills and boards
All telling of
Poetry, Poetry Festival,
Kavita, aaj ki kavita,
Poem, the poem of today.

The poets from all around,
Different parts of the country
Gathering to participate
In the festival,
Poets, poets, poetry,
Poetry, poetry, poets.

Kavita Utsav,
Kavita kavi ke liye,
Kavi kavita ke liye,
Poetry Festival,
The poem for the poet,
The poet for the poem.

The poet on the lawn
Sitting and reclined
Writing poems,
Reading them,
Rehearsing to recite
Poems.

Some taking paan,
Some smoking cigars,
Some beedis,
Some tobacco,
Some cheroots.

A few of them had been
With French-cut beards,
A few bearded oddly
With the unkempt beards,
A few folksy, a few ultra-modern.

The open ground spread over
Camped and stalled
With pamphlets and brochures,
Booklets and poetry collections
Of the old and the new
Appeared to be a fair ground.

Mainly the poets and poetesses
Read and heard poems
With the selfies taken
And presentations advertized
And the organizing poets held it
The press conference to shoot to limelight.

Many just went there to the campus
For to take tea or coffee
Or to buy things from the fair ground,
Many for an outing
Rather than hearing poetry
Though it was Kavita Utsav.

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