Biography of Upendra Majhi
I joined Reserve Bank of India in 1981.
I am Assistant General Manager in Office of Banking
Ombudsman, Mumbai, I will be happy if through poetry, I can be a part of redressing grievances of the world.
Nature and planet physical, social, intellctual, cultural, emotional, biological is crying out for description and preservation in codified or open elaborate form as it portrays millions of images every moment all over the planet.
That will help posterity in solving human problems.
The matters, images, facts, truths, that is not capable of being wholly captured, encapsuled in a prose can be easily grasped and grabbed in a verse.
Upendra Majhi Poems
At 59 Years What I Remember
I remember a few blades of grass, I remember white flowers of drumstick, the afternoon rainbow, reflected images of hibiscus, the full moon of kumar purnima
I Was Born Great
Today,12 August I was born, Today I was born great, I am a audio video system put by God, to report all sublleties of His creation,
The black mole of monsoon cloud in the blue forehead of earth, the kathkali colours of red, green, pink, yellow
Knowledge gives humbleness Humbleness gives worthiness, From worthiness comes wealth, From wealth , religiosity,
This flow of love sporadic flow rather, like the photons, that need plucking before decay,
Earth Rotating I Saw
The sky- Ganges flows above my head I at 8000 metres above the earth, The river 1000meter above me, the white stream flow closely tight
Your love hint came in my cell in sms, as one time password, I came running and stood still before you, You said you want Character validity verification
Room For All
A white tiny butterfly, wings like two petals of tagar flower, the wind stands still to make it fly, Perhaps earth rotates slower to allow it live,
Get Ecstatic And Inebrieted With...
It does not rain for crops, For crop is the food, Food is not consumed by matter, God does not consume food,
so love is not the tall hill with its gorges, steep sides, wintersnows, nor the avalanches, not its summer forests, nor autumn el ninos, it is not the wild life or flora or mighty fauna,
Now in wee hours, koel sings In march, spreading a splendid spring, It reverebetes on stone hill, Return to vale,
World And Love
When I catapulted my lost love to the wee-hour crescent moon it hit the outer lunar convex arch and my orchard pond, it fell into
Much more than the souls of animate, much more than the souls of inanimate, of all stars, stones and supernova, it is the momemt,
He just was not there,
yet was there,
yet not there,
shade of the tree he planted fell on his grave,
I tried to recollect all things,
and took dip for each thing,
in the river nearby,
where we used to fish,
He is with me, with all of us.