FIVE POEMS BY AMITA PAUL WITH IMAGES

Amita Sarjit Ahluwalia is the Pen Name of Amita Paul , a retired senior bureaucrat from India , who is also a multilingual poet and writer . She writes poetry in English , Hindi , Urdu and her native Punjabi , and comments on a wide variety of issues including current affairs in English . The Significant League aka Rejected Stuff , a Facebook Group on the Internet , awarded her the NISSIM International Prize for English Poetry ( First Prize ) for the year 2019 , for her contribution to English Poetry in India through her Tapestry Poems . She is widely travelled and widely read in World Literature , including English , American , Hindi , Punjabi , Urdu and Persian Literature and this  extensive and intensive multicultural exposure percolates continuously into her writing . Though Amita Paul is by and large a writer of serious literature , she also surprises the reader from time to time with her sense of humour which is best reflected in her limericks and a few satires as well.
In these five poems the photographs are also supplied by her. None of these poems can be republished without written permission from her as this blog is under legal copyright or without legal repercussions if used without her permission. All rights belong to her.



I

3/11/19

THE SHALL - BE 

The Silver the Purple the Green

How long will they keep their sharp sheen ?

Let them go and move on Mystic Soul

Look , it is already past Halloween

Look , the snow slowly covers the ground

Even as Autumn leaves whirl around 

As it sets into ice by Great Nature ‘s device 

Earth will once more turn White and Pristine

Clear your mind of the conflicts of past

Let your heart heal and find peace at last

Take the future as gift and let your spirits lift

Take the shall- be leave the might -have -been

II

20/10/19

WAYS OF ESCAPE

( Survival Strategies )

A silken sari

Was for the imagination

Freedom and beauty in its folds

Were nurtured

And song soared

Why wear it to routine classes

Where donkeys brayed

And dull bureaucrats droned ?

No , not even a Salwar Kameez

If you force me by rule

I’m not a woman given to the wearing

Of trousers

My rebellion was skirts

Occasionally a bit short

Mostly decorous

But still

On the dangerous edge of the rulebook

They knew not what to do with me

I revelled in that Knowledge

And rubbed it in

None could stop me

I was immune to cold stares

On wooden stairs

The food

So horrible on cold and wet portioned steel plates 

The sharpest flavours of the Indian South

Corrupted by a money -grubbing Mess inCharge  

Somehow I filled my stomach

Not my heart

Watery coffee at 4pm

Made life worse

At 5pm 

I ran for my life

To the homecooking of the foodhouse

At the gate

Where the talk was cheerful and so real

And the creamy tea warmed my heart

And the ceramic mug warmed my frozen fingers

Where the owner spoke a dialect like my own

And his rosy cheeked wife 

Smiled a real hospitable smile

Fried parathas in pure ghee 

Aloo , gobhi, mooli, methi

Besan, cheese, paneer and plain

With generous melting yellow blobs of Amul butter on top

Gaajar Shalgum Gobhi pickle

To tickle the tongue with vinegar and jaggery and garam Masala pickle juice

Or homemade mango pickle with the unmistakable flavours 

Of hing and aniseed

More tea in glass tumblers or chunky mugs

And cheerful non -threatening chatter

On the weather and the prices

Of vegetables

Sanity restored

Feet on the ground

Heart in the right place again

III

6/9/19

FALL

Fall

from clouds

pearls diamonds stars

raindrops snowflakes

Fall 

from trees

ripe fruits acorns dead leaves

riches for earthlings

Fall

from Grace

raw pain longing mistakes

God’s love , again

IV

26/9/19

WHEN AUTUMN COMES

When Autumn comes, remind me

To drink my tea

From maple leaves

With maple honey

When Autumn comes , remind me

To pick pine cones

For fragrance 

In woody tones

When Autumn comes , remind me

To fetch walnuts

And cinnamon 

Winter abuts

When Autumn comes , remind me

To stop that wheeze 

With honey warm

And star anise

When Autumn comes , remind me

We’ll share warm hugs

And ginger tea 

In yellow mugs

Remind me , when Autumn comes

V

TROLLIMERICK

So she writes out this poem stone cold 

As if used to doing what she’s told

Hey but just wait a sec 

Who got fooled what the heck

Is it she or I that just got trolled

( Amita Sarjit Ahluwalia )

13 Nov 2019

PLEASE NOTE THAT THE COMING DAYS POEMS WILL COME FROM LOPA BANERJEE (IN USA), KASHIANA SINGH (IN USA), SANTOSH BAKAYA (INDIA) AND MANY OTHERS. KEEP READING.