Bijay Kant Dubey Home Poems

Who am I? , my God,
Where my home? ,
Who to say, my God?
...

Nagaraja’s daughter,
I mean Nagaraja and Nagin’s daughter,
Miss Cobra Princess,
Nagakanya have I married,
...

Be sure of it, mama,
I’ll send you to the old age home
As who look after you,
Nurse you,
...

Love, love, love
What is it in love?
All the time after the girl not good for the world.
The malaria of love not good at all.
...

Dilip Chitre's father returning home
As a daily passenger,
A commuter
Departing for in the morning
...

The inflammatory speeches,
Tougher tongue and rhetoric
Of the home minister and the defense minister,
I like it not
...

There is no place like the home on this earth
Which can give pleasure as much the home can
And wherewith lie in connected
The memories of childhood.
...

The dark black girl smiling
In the sun-burnt dark hamlets
Shaded against the hills
Where the stories of hunger
...

The dark daughter smiling in the dark sun-burnt hamlet homes
Against the backdrop of the hills
Dark and shining blue in the falling sunlight
Even in the midst of poverty, illiteracy and superstition,
...

Rama came to our home,
We could not know it
Without bidding him welcome?
...

Shepherd girl,
Pastoral girl,
O my rustic girl,
When will you,
...

Home,
My home is
Where I am,
Where I feel it home-like.
...

Ghar,
Mera ghar kaha hain
Nahi jaante hai.
...

The migrant labourers and workers
Their pity and worries and woes
Disturb me inwardly to
Think about them,
...

It is time to go home
As the white-breasted hens have stated calling
From the bamboo thickets by the water body,
The jackals howling like man
...

Where is my home?
I do not know.
Can one ever say it?
...

Where is my home,
My home,
Do you know?
...

The migrant labourers and workers
Their pity and worries and woes
Disturb me inwardly to
Think about them,
...

As the place had been away from,
Decided I to abstain from
And to stay at home
As got depressed psychologically,
...

The poor ass going,
The poor lonely ass
Left on the roads
Forsaken and distraught
...

Sarojini is but a poetess
Of the churiwalla, the palkiwallah
And the small girl bride
Going her in-laws' home
...

Kahan hae mera ghar,
Kahan hae mujhe jaana?
Koi jo mujhe bataata.
...

Frankly speaking, it pains,
Pains my heart
To see
The Prime Minister of India,
...

Where is my home,
Think I sometimes deeply about,
Where is it
On this green planet?
...

The fanatic's daughter want I
To marry,
Bring her home,
Her father may be a fanatic
...

Under the gulmohar tree
With the blossoms
Hanging by
Even in Chaitra and Baisakh
...