poetry, place and informatics

issue 1



issue 1

Susheel Kumar Sharma



There was a man
Who saw one moon
As he was passing through the jungle.
He was looking for a way out of the jungle.

There a man
Who saw one moon
As he was passing by a pond.
He was looking for drinking water somewhere.

There was a man
Who saw two moons
One above and one in his plate

As he was getting a chapati after a fortnight.
He was undergoing a penance for exoneration of his sins.

There was a man
Who could not see a distinct moon
As was swimming in a river.
He was rescuing a child drowning in a river.

There was a man
Who saw only the moon
Scattered all around
As he drifted along with wind to catch a feather.
He was a poet living in a utopia.


It is better
My wife doesnít
Ask me questions
And lets me remain
A husband.
My sons do not
Ask me questions
And let me remain
A father.
So am I grateful
To my sisters and friends
Who know
A new book of revelations
Can be written
If they pester me
And goad me, cajole me
And persuade me
To show my seemingly
Unscathed skin.
The skeins would reveal
Multi-coloured pattern
If unwound and unwound.



To see different patterns
Of life and leaves
One doesnít need
Spectacles or a kaleidoscope
One can easily see

The bare tree
And the yellow leaves
Dancing around the tree.
Some even from the heap
Being burnt by the gardener
Dance with joy
Around the tree
And try to touch the tree.
Leaves are varied
They have different hues
And shapes and sizes
Like men they reveal Godís plenty.


Yesterday when I saw you
O butterfly
You were flying in the sky
In search of beautiful flowers
To collect honey
And help the flower bloom.
Your choice was a beautiful flower
Symmetrical, laughing, bright and blooming.
When you sat on its petals
The sight was captivating
As your colours and the backdrop of the flowerbed
Presented to my mind what
Must have been the Garden of Eden.
Your quest for honey in the grove of flowers
Must have been the quest of the enchanted Eve
To own Adam.
The pattern of colours on your body
O butterfly
Reminded me of the beauty of the innocent girls
Going to school on the reopening day
The patterns of design on your body
O butterfly
Were so enchanting
That they reminded me of
Adam being enchanted by Eve.
Today when I saw you crushed
On the table
I couldnít even recognise me.
It was difficult to figure out
The pattern, the silkiness, the design, the body.
Alas, the laughter has gone

The movement has gone
The spark has gone
The chance of another Adam being tempted has withered.
The lovely flowers are not seen
Only the stalks are seen.

Adam appears to have rejected the temptation.

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