Mrityunjay Jha

Mrityunjay Jha Poems

Voices within and voices without
Each disrupting the other.
Sometimes in silence,
Loud and clear the next time.

The same day with the same familiar smell
I have breathed for long.
When one day ends, another hurries.

On a dull sunday afternoon
a man sitting near the sea watching the sky.
Birds and clouds moving across the horizon.
Peace dwells above

Leaves are falling
Scattered on the road.
Leaves are red but the road is black

Death not foreshadowed
Death and Shadow
Are One:

It Is Not
That I Didn't Notice
The Shaking

Every Dawn
Hope Springs
Only To Falter
As The Sun Gets Hotter

Who is he that drinks and dances?
The Reveler, the Fool!
Let’s go and catch him.
He must be for the Victor-team.

Approaches its Dirge
Crumble and Disappear

Repetitive Rhythm
Daily Life


It's been ages I lost your presence
in my physical existence
our walks together
sitting on the ghats


The night gathers momentum The oil-lamp flickers in dark
There is stillness in monastery
After the supper a monk prepares to say the last prayer of the day that will dwell on forgiveness and peace.
What matters in the end is whether we've forgiven ourselves and made peace.

Tanks roll on without hesitation
Shelling goes unabated
Air becoming thick with human blood
Flowers are groaning

In a dim lit room
books, cigarette butts and smoke-
Metaphor of anxiety.

Shadow In The Dark
Naked In The Light

Things Change
So Do People!
Fixity To Freedom

The Waves Lashing The Shore/
Fishermen Mourning The Scant Catch/
The Rain-God Playing Hide-n-Seek/
The Met-office Predicting Ominous Things/

The Usual Chirpings
Of Birds
Become Far and Few.
Leaves' Color Faints.

The Map of Our World Looks
In The Pages of Books We Read
Or Just Have A Glance/

The Best Poem Of Mrityunjay Jha

Symphony Of Life

Voices within and voices without
Each disrupting the other.
Sometimes in silence,
Loud and clear the next time.
And reaching at the conclusion remains
A distant drum-beat.
The more attempts made to grasp its notes
The more discordant it appears.
Life has the only breathing-space left
The mid-point or the intersection
Of voices: within and without
Each disrupting the other
And the music is born
Devoid of harmony, but eternal in nature
We call it-
Noise –The symphony of life.

Mrityunjay Jha Comments

Sylvia Frances Chan 13 September 2021

How could YOU as a student write OSSUM? I am shocked, even a non-student writes the right word

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Secret 05 April 2021

Sir I am your student your poem is ossum.You are the poet of new generation towards our bright future

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Mrityunjay Jha Quotes

In the end life becomes an archive of memories.

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