Biography of Vinod Sharma
Know me by my words alone.
Vinod Sharma Poems
A cigarette is lit, Up in smoke it goes, It is lit again.
I sit wondering in the sun, Who forged this puzzling one With infinite poise charm and grace And many strange and wondrous ways.
Fading blush of the bottle brush Green gulmohar all aflame Summer kisses spring. Again.
Heaps of Ash
From the heap Of my ashes A tiny flame rises Even as embers have died.
A Wound Too Deep
There is nothing left of me my friend, But a battered and shattered heart that bleeds, Many a wound it had borne with strength But this last one was just too deep.
No War Memorial. Still. 'Ye Dil Mangey M...
In the dark Of India's ravaged Yoni, Flickers a tiny flame.
Broken Leaf 6
To the leaf at him laughing, Said the broken leaf, You will too fall that day, When so desires ‘that' tree.
Love, Light, Fright
No one else before, She sighs, Has taken her Where he has or nigh.
Black clouds of corrupt politicians Seem to have swallowed India's sun, The skies are a weeping at this turn, But for them this river of tar is fun.
Far Yet Near
Though we are physically far and apart, I am in you and you beat in my heart, Our whispers of love we can clearly hear, But not the words of those who are near.
Egypt's New TV Channel
Colour television, Black veil, Modern technology, Medieval jail.
Broken Leaf 1
Moonlight On Wet Leaves
Moonlight on wet leaves Makes them quiver in the still night, Its mark of passionate love it leaves And takes a hurried flight.
Sonia, Sibal and the Net
He never gives up, this son of Nero; In 2G he tried and scored a big zero, Akash was a goli, a plain eyewash, Now the net he is out to white wash.
Heaps of Ash
From the heap
Of my ashes
A tiny flame rises
Even as embers have died.
Don't nurse this flame
And fan it not,
For the fire shall consume
And leave behind
Two hopelessly pulverised
Heaps of ash,
On charred ground.