Anita Sehgal

Anita Sehgal Poems

1.

Once my house was full of people
Both young and old …
of diverse opinions and myriad temperaments.
Voices and sounds echoed all around,
...

The fair face of the earth glows softly in the darkness of infinity,
Held aloft magically in the deep swirling oceans.
The brown blanketed in rich green,
Clouds in varying colours hover on its brow.
...

The magic of Divinity I bring with me
from the lands of beyond.
With the blessings of the Gods,
I arrive …
...

Neither her attire nor her demeanor
spoke of a life of riches..
Nor reflected one of abject penury,
Just another old woman.…
...

Ever since I was born,
You have been with me
As I grew,
Your shadow over me lengthened
...

6.

In suspended animation of Now
Why can't I just BE?
With no baggage of the past
And no worry for the future
...

7.

Far away, dark clouds gather,
Despondency fills my heart.
Far away, the red sun drowns in the ocean,
A deep sadness prevails.
...

Oh! my Darling Baby,
Where have you come from?
...

9.

Music pours forth from the taut strings of a sitar,
under the nimble fingers of the player.
...

The parched ground
with wounds as wide as craters,
stared at the relentless, harsh blue.
Leafless, huge trees exposed their skeletons.
...

Apart yet a part of the Whole.

Is not the part, a part of the whole?
...

Existence
Joyous, melancholy
Creating, flowing, demolishing,
Energy that is life and death
...

It is the evening of his life.

He sits on an isolated bench
And stares with empty eyes at the barren park.
...

Love
Sensual, ethereal
Possessing, surrendering, all encompassing,
The alpha and omega of creation
...

15.

Words string together to music make..
Lilting mystical melodies of times beyond time
Where no space exists
Barriers of past, present, future collapse..
...

If I could I would,
Hold on to the rays
And climb into the sun,
...

Words swirl in my head
Like a swarm of bees.
My thoughts arise in clouds from my mind,
My heart a cauldron of emotions.
...

I knelt before Thee,

Hands folded
Head bowed
...

The earth quaked, the black sky fell into the oceans

and they rose to gobble everything.
...

20.

I stand at the edge
of the cluster..

And watch with bated breath the spaces between leaves,
...

Anita Sehgal Biography

Not Mine, Not Mine!
An imagery haunts for days.
Like whisperings in the wind
They settle on the clouds of my mind.
Slowly they connect...
And a chain of words reveals itself.


Poems dedicated to my Guru

I plummeted the depths of my mind
to give words to my feelings
None came.
It was with Thy touch
That like shells on the shore
They came of their own accord.

The Best Poem Of Anita Sehgal

Once

Once my house was full of people
Both young and old …
of diverse opinions and myriad temperaments.
Voices and sounds echoed all around,
Doors banged and shut, activity all around…
Where is my corner of quiet, I wondered?

Once my house was full of guests,
Glasses clinked, tables over laden..
Laughter rang out …
Merry stories exchanged and news dissected,
Each sticking vociferously to his point of view, egos clashed.
Why cannot we listen more and talk less, I wondered?

Once my house was full of children
Each child in a world of his own….
Growing up years and its challenges..
Seeking to balance, the righteousness of the elders and the sensitivity of the children..
How does one bridge the gap.. without treading on toes.. I wondered?

Once the walls reverberated with the joys of the coming festivals
Every occasion and season, a reason for celebration.

Amidst all this.. hustle…
Life's ups and downs..
offered its own variety..

All this was then … and now..
Not a sound echoes.
The bell hardly rings,
No callers to disturb my reverie.
Children moved out..
Now an empty nest.
Relatives have no time,
Friends all gone,
The kitchen fires hardly burn.
The echoless, cold walls and
the now musty furniture, so carefully gathered once, give company.
Festivals come and go.
Summer heat is unbearable
Winter chill eats into my bones
Monsoon is wet and slushy
Spring no longer blooms.
Life now spent on my rocking chair, whose creaking and squeaking
is a lullaby…
The walking stick, the only support of my tottering bones…
Occasionally, I get up to clear the dust of old photographs on the walls,
of smiling family and friends-events and occasions.
I stare at them and reminisce of the past and pull it into my present.
All gone but the memories glow like embers in the dark winter evenings.
I am waiting … waiting for what I do not want to acknowledge.

-

Anita Sehgal Comments

u r so brilliant to read madam what can I say with my words?

0 0 Reply

Dont be silent pls. U r brilliant at poetry. Enejoy reading my love poems and comment pls.

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