Poetry Reading at Hip Hop Studio on Miracle & Festival

 

Poetry Reading at Hip Hop Studio on Miracle and Festival

On 2nd December, 2023, Lampshade Writers had its second poetry reading/open mic poetry in Kolkata on the themes "miracle" and "festival." We were glad to have a vibrant group of participants and audience. The event was held at Hip Hop Studio, Park Circus and created a warm, memorable evening.

Here are some of the poems on the themes:

Theme - Miracle

One Thing I Appreciate

By HimaBindu Chintalapati 

One thing I appreciate about my life is

To connect with the mother Nature 

Get Submerged into the lap of Mother Nature

Write poems about each and everything of 

Mother Nature's miracles like

The beautiful rainbow born out of sunshine and rain

The beautiful miracle of a sapling taking birth from a seed in the soil of ground

The beautiful miracle of a chick coming from its egg nurtured by its mother

The beautiful miracle of a small spring growing up

Slowly into a big river only to flow and meet the ocean just like the child meeting with his/her parents

The beautiful miracle of many shades & colors of twilight being born twice in a day 

The wonderful miracle of songs anthology from 

Nightingale sitting on the branches of trees swaying in the morning's fresh breezes

The beautiful miracle of songs born from the gurgling springs flowing through the boulders

One thing I appreciate in my life is to write poetry

Collecting all these memories together 

To form a wonderful poem which will become

A tribute to the Mother Nature 

Just like the "man born from soil of mother nature

Will again reach there after his death as ashes"

So are  these lines dedicated to Mother Nature

For her wonderful miracles

A Miracle Is All

By Vini Lilian

So far and few between,

The darkness and chaos

Of war and illness,

Of famine and death

Through raging storms

With no respite.

 

A search for meaning,

For warmth and comfort,

For love and connection

And silent aspirations.

 

A glimmer of hope,

And a dream unfolds,

But only for a moment.

Then lost in oblivion.

 

A moment is all,

In endless time,

To steer the path.

A miracle is all,

In this anarchy,

To restore the faith.

Miracle is Supreme 

By Patrichia Dcruze

What is a miracle?

I ask! 

We are breathing,

Is this a miracle? 

The Sun rises for the moon to set,

The Moon sets for the Sun to rise,

Is this what Miracle means? 

Or 

Is it a Miracle for which,

The flowers that bloom to spread fragrance and color,

Also, die,

To let others grow. 

Or

Is it Miracle?

To be born in the "land of death"

Amidst the Good and the Evil,

To cleanse once sins. 

Unaware I am,

Of the true nature of Miracle, 

But, the belief that the Supreme is with us All,

Makes me ponder.

The Perfect Miracle

By Ananya Sarkar

Rain pelting at my window

Its knocks getting louder at the door

I look for a hiding place

But there are none

Till you come

Teach me to make paper boats

And sail them on

Cradle of invisible dreams!

And that is how I see

The perfect miracle

In the perfect storm.

Theme - Festival

A Splendid Autumn's Grace: Celebrating Durga Puja

By Spondon Ganguli 

In the season of autumn's grace,

When whispers blend with drums' embrace,

Arrives a time of joyous light,

Durga Puja, a splendid sight.

 

Love and devotion all around

Joy in all hearts blossom unbound

From distant lands, hearts reunite

Durga Puja, a splendid sight.

 

In joyous fervour, hearts align

Celebrations of the divine

Adorned in splendour, gleaming bright

Durga Puja, a splendid sight.

 

In the season of autumn's grace,

Durga Puja, a splendid sight.

Dev Diwali

By Papia Ghosh (Pal)

My broken steps lead

To the Holy Ganga

treaded through ages by

 kings and commoners alike,

wait in eager anticipation for

 the night of the Dev Diwali.

 

A silent witness

To untold tales of joys and sorrows,

I shelter their footsteps

With open arms,

Yet each passing day is but a yearning for

The night of the Dev Diwali.

 

The tell-tale brunt of the ages

Mapped in my cracks and crevices

Are covered with

  seeds of a million hopes

sown along every inch of my existence

blazing in glory

under the full moon night,

since it is Dev Diwali.

 

The flames of each hope

Fighting gallantly against the cool draughts of

 the dragons of fear and doubt,

threatening to annihilate them.

A night when every hope finds a safe haven

 Embalmed in holy chants and deep prayers

celebrating the Dev Diwali.

 

Christmas Homecoming

By Papia Ghosh (Pal)

When the chilly west winds

strip the trees of every shred of green,

and the fluffy white snow softly

embraces the earth,

It’s time for Homecoming.

 

When the snow muffles your footsteps

into soft deep prints along the path,

And the pine trees adorn

White Christmas caps,

‘Tis time for Homecoming.

 

When the stars from the heavens

Adorn our beautiful Christmas tree,

With dream catchers and fairies

playing hide and seek,

While watching over our yearnings

 wrapped in love,

It’s time for Christmas and Homecoming.

 

When the longings of the heart

To put the jigsaw pieces of the family together

Reside in wafting aromas from my mother’s kitchen,

Impregnated with promises of a grand feast,

It’s time for a long-awaited Homecoming.

 

When the corners of the world

Are folded by the delicate origami

 of love and kindness,

in deep-rooted beliefs and a sense of belonging, 

It’s time for blessings and good wishes,

 Christmas carols, Santa’s gifts,

                          Snuggled under warm blankets of leisure,

And that long-cherished Christmas Homecoming.

The Festival Trail

By Surela Chakraborty

Buzz of animated conversations and Rippling laughter

Now faded

Just like the multi-coloured lights that screamed, festival is here.

Now the street lights wait again 

For next year, for other bright lights 

To dim their shine once more

To usher the festival

Monochromatic white street lights 

Happy to be sidelined 

By bright hues of pink, red and blue

The colours of festival. 

Like us, they wait every year 

For the festival to arrive.

The artists whose tireless hands shaped the goddess now need rest,

But are still at work preparing for the next festival.

Those that built the pandals are now bringing them down,

their hammers hitting nails in rhythm.

Can you sense a feeling or sorrow or promise in their sullen eyes?

Having earned their dough with sweat

They now wait 

Ready to unravel their own celebration

Their family waiting with eager faces. 

How did the traffic cops celebrate? 

Did they find joy in their duty or did their duty come in the way of joy? 

Some questions don’t have answers, 

maybe those who create festivals have learnt to extract happiness

from the mundane, that is life.

And isn't that what it is all about? 

The festival celebrating

The very ordinariness of life

And the ordinariness of us.

***

Photo Courtesy: Swarat Ghost and Deepro Biswas