What is present at this land?
Well, it is nothing but sand.
It is the land of nothing,
Where you don’t find anything.
No flowers, no trees, no one.
The land only has a sun.
Some brave ones may try,
Not letting this place dry.
But never succeed
In their good deed
The land of nothing is so hot,
You could fry yourself in a pot!
In this land, heat shall remain,
No green shall retain.
No flowers, no trees, no one.
At the land of nothing.
Aditi Deepak
21st April 2020
Alone I sat,
Thinking… just that.
Never did it cross my mind,
disaster I was about to find.
For hitherto things were nice,
And I knew not there was a price
What we humans have done,
Is not a load of fun.
Months and months of monotony,
Oh, the irony.
Being trapped in my own home,
I went back to my thinking dome.
Will things change?
Or shall things be as strange?
Never did it cross my mind,
A pandemic I was about to find.
Aditi Deepak
7th January 2021
A garden full of roses,
and I, a lone orchid.
A thousand sheets of blank paper,
and the broken nib of a pen.
The glistening dawn that can never become the pensive dusk,
and night that can never become day.
Scribbles hailed as calligraphy,
not a word follows the call of destiny.
I halt for a moment,
and there walks another in my stead.
The tranquil moon that can never become the radiant sun.
The numbing winter that can never become the carefree summer.
A thousand days of unsaid words,
and the hushed chimes of the wind.
A garden full of roses,
and I, a lone orchid.
Aditi Deepak
2022
The clock has begun ticking again,
a splash of ink on paper that had been plain.
I ran along with the sudden hustle and bustle,
shoving aside my mind in a tussle.
To break free from a world where,
the shadow of danger lingered around every familiar face there.
The pleasure of allowing a pen run free on paper.
Halt once again, to watch the flower wilt,
and there fear stood, barricaded by the wall that had been built.
It is time to bid our farewells to monotony :-
with a reflection as stoic as a bleak expression,
lost in the bitter caress of expectation.
The clock has begun ticking again,
a splash of ink on paper that had been plain.
Will I be sitting on the same chair,
past the curve in the path there,
praising the humanity that tipped the ink over?
Aditi Deepak
10th July 2022
A lucid, surreal world,
the manifestation of our endless thoughts,
the depths of our minds unfurled,
our hopes and fears evinced.
Where reality merges with imagination,
where tranquillity and chaos walk hand in hand
In the midst of satinlike clouds and alluring stars,
and the hushed chimes of forgotten whims.
To walk along a hustling street
of faces unbeknownst to us,
or to gaze at the vast, pensive sky
at the plethora of wishes unfulfilled.
It is a lucid, surreal world,
where tranquillity and chaos walk hand in hand.
But don’t let the mirage shatter,
for everything has an end to it
and a deep, endless void awaits.
Aditi Deepak
2nd April 2023
How can I describe my sumptuous joy
In getting a job in a limited concern
No more I am a Micawber, in its true sense
Thanks to the providence of god
Whenever I look I see success only
It gives me much joy to feel so
Now I am a recipient of recognition
Although it is a belated one
It always reminds of the truth
That man is only an instrument in the hands of god
There may be people to jeer at me
But I don’t care a hoot for them
Micawber-person who waits for
Something good to turn up.
I am a bird with broken wings
I want to fly in the sky infinitely
Alas! I am unable to move an inch
Then how can I fulfill my dreams?
From heaven comes life-giving wind
That carries me on its way
And gives mobility to an otherwise immovable creature
How can I thank god for his all-embracing mercy
Which bundles the heart with zest of life.
In the southern tip of our land
There lives a community called Nairs
In the past they were warriors
And there were none to match them in courage
But they were caught in deep slumber
And lost all vitality and sap
Then came in the horizon- a light to lead them
It was none other than the Padmanabha
Most popularly known as Mannom
He came to this world with no silver spoon
Unlike pundit Malviya, he hadn’t the backing of kings
And yet he made an empire
From handful of rice offered to him
The world witnessed the unexpected
Overthrow of an elected communist government
By upsurge of those who elected them
It was made possible
By the dynamic leadership of Mannom
He was a lovable person –
And all loved him, whether he was a Christian, a Hindu or Muslim
His prime in life was to unite all Hindus
And rejuvenate the caste-ridden society
He succeeded to some extent on this
But now his followers fall apart, for the sake of crumbs
It will be a fitting tribute to the Acharya
If we stop quarreling among ourselves.
