Reflections Launch and Online Poetry Reading

On April 2, 2023, Reflections, a compilation of poems and articles from November 2020 to November 2022, was launched online. Article excerpts were read by Juvelle, Aishwarya, David and Patrichia. 

And poems were read by Dipen, Vidya Premkumar, Vikas, Shrey Rodricks, Hima Bindu, Divya Murarka, Kavita Sangras. 

Email us at lampshadewriters@gmail.com for an ecopy of the book. 

When the floor was open for Online Poetry Reading, poems were read by Vidya, Rohit, Vikas, Shravan, Ananya on the theme of language and poetry. 

Selected poems on the theme:

Waiting for poetry, waiting for rain

By Varun D I wait for poetry The city waits for rain It's early morn on a late June day Air today, hangs heavy, awaits an arrival Dark clouds of ideas hover over my head Their thunder, still a distant echo A sticky silence gains heft Strong ideas are weak words now Semi-solid word clouds Set for birth, foetuses formed Fidgeting on their clayey toes Nervously stand, look around; then Cautiously collide, with the cluttered door to my opaque, my concrete mind Some survive the crash Most collapse into vapour The blessed few chip away, break down thick, unyielding reason walls Float shakily in the air above a blank page They shout furiously in my ears now My mind gasps for beauty in cacophony A sudden flash of lightning strikes! Word clouds burst through to drench parched parchment Raindrops embrace unloved Earth A moist poem settles down like morning dew Inhaling deeply its fresh notes The page sways, a solitary drunk I close eyes, open my arms wide To bathe in the poetry of rain The reign of poetry

Not spoken
By Vikas Sehra

What language?

a leaf speaks
to wind, reminding
that words are not needed.

What words?
a river carries
across the city
that dream’s in gibberish.

What gibberish?
a child mumbles
in mother’s ears
that find’s the meaning

What meaning?
mountains echo
whispering in forest
that moon holds in embrace

A language of embrace
in lap of chaos,
Us, Listen,
the not spoken.

 

Cherita by Vidya Premkumar

(edited by Shloka)

1.

children’s tantrums
while waiting
for cars at the gate

the security guard
wonders
how his daughter is


2.

thud!

she bends down
to pick up the purse

he slides his hand
to the corner of the table
as she comes up

3.

the cat walks

in circles
on the duvet

feels the heat
emanating from warm legs,
curls up and dreams

Paper
by Kavita Sangras Kanherikar

Sky -

My piece of paper 

Stars -

My words

Moon -

My inspiration

Space -

My book of notions!

Hindi Poetry

बचपन यादों में…..

श्रेय रॉडरिक्स। 

मुक्त हँसी, मुक्त गगन

बेरोकटोक मुक्त पवन।

हर दिन पूरा इक जीवन 

सुबह-शाम ख़ुशी निर्विघ्न।

न कहीं दीवारें थीं खड़ी 

न अपने पराए की पड़ी। 

हम एक थे, अपनी टोली 

प्रेम-द्वेष की तुतली बोली। 

ख़ुशी बाँटते दिल खोल कर

मतभेद मिटाते मिलजुल कर। 

कितने वर्ष, समय बीता

अबोध में आई परिपक्वता। 

तेरा मेरा, मेरा तेरा 

साझेदारी ने बाँधा घेरा। 

सबने निज की राह पकड़ी 

दुनियादारी यूँ फिर जकड़ी। 

और यह कहाँ आ गए

छूटा बचपन, वो दिन गए। 

दुनिया से होकर दुखी 

होते हम यादों में सुखी। 

झिलमिल रातें, जगमग दिन

कोई लौटा दे हमें पलछिन। 

Translation:

I Remember

By Shrey Rodricks

Skies no limit, unfettered days,

Dawn to dusk, simple ways.

At the same time Sun came up

Neither sluggish nor hasten up.

Joy and fervor, days restful,

Play, bonhomie, no moment dull.

Not hers nor his but our

One world we knew ever.

Age, years, innocence robbed

Our worldly ways we walked.

With years times changed

Childhood on memories hinged,

And having drifted astray,

The haven of freedom far away.

Yet I escape in my memories

Find solace, relieve worries,

Starry nights, sunny days,

Oh how I miss my childhood days!

आखिरी कविता

रोहित नन्द

कल रात दुनिया की 

आख़िरी कविता लिखी गई

आज सुबह जब भाषा सो के उठी

मुँह धोने के लिए नल खोला

तो पानी नहीं

घर से बाहर निकलने के लिए

पहनने वाले कपड़े नहीं

और बाल काढ़ने के लिए

कंघी भी नहीं मिली

इधर उधर से कुछ कुछ निकाला

तकिये के नीचे सिकुड़ी पड़ी लघु कथा

फ़र्श पे धूल खाते लम्बे निबन्ध के बिखरे पन्ने

दराज में भुर्भुराते कागज़ पे पत्र

और अलमारी के अंदर

मोटा सा आधा पढा उपन्यास

रसोई घर में रात के जूठन के अलावा

कुछ भी नहीं था

घर से बाहर निकली

तो कई लोग तो उसे पहचान ही नहीं पाए

और बाकी

ठहाके मार के ज़ोर ज़ोर से हँसने लगे

यहाँ तक तो फिर भी ठीक था

दिन भर थकी थकी सी रही

कभी पैर लड़खड़ाए 

तो कभी देर हो गई

कभी धार में कमी रह गई 

तो कभी गलत जगह पहुंची

कहीं आग बुझा नहीं पाई

तो जहाँ लगानी थी वहाँ आग लगा ना पाई

इसी सब में शाम हो गई 

और दिन के सारे काम भी 

खतम नहीं हुए

फिर जब गिरते पड़ते घर पहुँची

और आईने में मुँह देखा

तो क्या देखती है

एक भयानक दृश्य

आईने में

उसके साथ खड़े थे

आदम और हव्वा

पत्ते लपेटे

कल रात दुनिया की 

आख़िरी कविता लिखी गई

Translation:

Last Poem 

Tr. By Nivie, Vikas, Rohit

Last night,
the world’s last poem was written

Today morning,
when language woke up from its sleep
and turned the faucet on to wash its face

there was no water
nor were there clothes
nor a comb to set its hair

Here and there,
It took some things out
beneath the pillow was a crumpled
short story
on the floor were pages of an essay
strewn about
in the drawer
was a letter falling apart
and in the almirah
a thick half-read novel

In the kitchen
were last night’s
left overs
and nothing else to eat

when it left home
many people were unable to recognise
and others
laughed out aloud

it was alright till here
tired throughout the day
at times it’s legs trembled
or it got late
sometimes, it lost its edge
or reached the wrong place.

Somewhere, it could not douse the fire
and where it was needed, it could not light one

It was evening already,

and all the pending works
remained too
tumbling falling
when language reached home
looked into the mirror,
what did it see?

A frightening sight:


In the mirror
Adam and Eve,
draped in leaves,
were standing beside
it.


Last night,
the world’s last poem was written

**

More poems on the theme can be read here.