Aniruddha Pathak

Freshman - 822 Points [Anirpath] (25.05.1941 / Godhra - Gujarat)

Aniruddha Pathak Poems

1. Antique Is Still An Asset 8/20/2012
2. Why Few Things Please Us More Than Lies 8/20/2012
3. One Less Mall, One More Hall 8/20/2012
4. Birth Of Death 8/23/2012
5. In Peace 8/23/2012
6. In Search Of I 8/23/2012
7. I Remember 9/23/2012
8. Thou Art Not Common 9/23/2012
9. I Recall 9/23/2012
10. Agony, Few Drops Of Honey, A Long Journey 9/23/2012
11. The Warp And Weft Of Politics 9/23/2012
12. Seeking The Depth, Not Ocean 9/23/2012
13. When Ye No More Thirst 9/23/2012
14. Better Lose Hair Than Head 9/23/2012
15. The Graveyard Of Senses 9/23/2012
16. Bad Is News; Good, Someone's Views 9/23/2012
17. O Thou River From Heaven 9/23/2012
18. Her Vegetable Vendor In My Guess 9/23/2012
19. A Thousand Causes To Worry 9/23/2012
20. To See Mother Masking As Maya 9/23/2012
21. Petticoat Problems 9/23/2012
22. The Lost Reverie 9/23/2012
23. The Poetic View 9/30/2012
24. A Myth May Better Be Than Truth 9/30/2012
25. Prose And Poetry 9/30/2012
26. Kadambs 9/30/2012
27. Madhavas On River Mahi 9/30/2012
28. The Don'Ts Into Do's 9/30/2012
29. This World Of Spectators 9/30/2012
30. Cants Of A Canting World 9/30/2012
31. The Death-Wind Of Change 10/6/2012
32. The Waverly Inn 10/17/2012
33. To My Sister Venus 10/17/2012
34. Mars Stands For No Wars 10/17/2012
35. Bose Of Boson When Rests In Oblivion 10/17/2012
36. To The Messenger Of Gods 10/17/2012
37. An Ode To Old Virtues 10/17/2012
38. A Date With Death 10/17/2012
39. Li'Le Can Conflict Lift The Mankind 10/17/2012
40. The Acres Of Thought 10/17/2012

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Best Poem of Aniruddha Pathak

This Game Of Golf

The game of golf nigh like this life,
Though played all life perfect can’t be,
The game of golf like player’s wife,
Now on pedestal, now on tee,
On roughs, on toughs, handicaps, bogies, strife,
Ah, played as if on edge of knife!

Easy to start, hard enough to finish,
And harder yet forever to master,
Pursued and practised like unfulfilled wish,
And always one stroke ‘way from disaster.
As in life in game, handicaps to cap,
Clap for birdies, try still eagles each lap.

What a rage be the game played every age,
With many a high and as many...

Read the full of This Game Of Golf

Footprints Upon My Sands

Man as in poor image of God is made,
His footprints of acts scarce to my heart reach;
History may have recorded his work,
I need no such printed prints him to know.
I can hear and feel him walking ‘pon me;
Let me wait till that wave rises from sea
Erasing wrinkles off my body’s skin;
And if that tide, always a ready friend,
Whilst receding back to the heart of sea,

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