Biography of Mohabeer Beeharry
I was born in Mauritius in 1937. I am married and have two children, one son and one daughter and two granddaughters. In 1964 I came to London to study law. I studied at the Lincoln's Inn. I also did B.ed(hons) . I love writing poems, mostly on philosophical and spiritual themes. Most of my poems come from intuitions obtained in meditation. I do not demand a lot from life. I am very satisfied with what I have. However it breaks my heart to see so much of blood shed and hypocrisy around the world. There is hardly any knowing who to trust. Still I love this humanity. There may be a little fire or storm going on here and there. But humanity is a glorious state of being.
God bless this humanity.
Mohabeer Beeharry's Works:
Mohabeer Beeharry Poems
He Was Born Free
He was born free a long time ago When his mind and body were young. He loved the village lanes And the busy market towns.
The Flower Of Your Heart
I brought a flower to him. The wise old man shook his head. Child, he said I made the trees and the flowers;
A Touch Of Light
Let us for a moment Dare to hold our books to our hearts, Invoking some sincerity. Their wisdom is timeless
Who knows what truth is? Do you? Do I know? I don't.
Which Side Of The Mirror?
I wonder what game we are playing with life. I am one And life is another. Life does not end, at any time
A Place For You To Rest
I cannot stop cursing myself For not giving you A better place To rest your head
Dream Is Only Dream
At the top of a tree There was the last fruit, And it was rosy, luscious and tempting. I watched the tree,
We Are One
If there were no me Where would you be? If there were no you Where would I be?
I Salute You Artist
I salute you artist Who can bring my master home to me. Love they say has no language, And no time to bloom
Not all the stories That I have heard Will make me change my mind about you. The wise man says
Stop awhile traveller On the way of life. What are you looking for, Peace, happiness?
I Need To Know
I have eyes, But I cannot see what I need to see. I have ears, I cannot hear what I need to hear.
On The Way Of Life
I have no battle to fight Nor victories or defeats, Anger or frustrations to collect. No wrong to vindicate.
A Family At War
I was born in a family at war. No guns, no fighter bombers No submarines or booby traps, Only long wordless and awkward situations,
And when the morning dawns at last,
The first arrows of the young sun
Gently drenches the hibiscus in light purple blooms,
Gilding the front courtyard,
She opens her eyes, glazed and jaundiced
And takes a long troubled look at the flowers
At her bedside and gives a sigh.
I watch, helpless, depressed and disorientated,
Crying in silence