TRAP

Coming out from my studied reverie,

I decide to bare myself in words

And I was lost in myself so deep;

A Known syllabus-chained bachelor threats a brat

And whack him into the heap.

Hovering rebellion captures his soul and mind

Consciously my bachelor eaves drops a breaking sound

He delates but the brat confused

Second and minute both at them frowned

The brat-amateur, turns into fury

And smashes all the time-stamped separations.

To show a stifling ones destination

Suddenly awakening with liberty splashed perspiration

I saw, the brat is now that bachelor one

And he---me beside my studied operation.

By Gourab Singha

M.A. (Previous)

Department of English, BHU

What am I ???

By Maneesh Rai

M.A. (Previous)

Department of English, BHU

What am I ?

Merely a cold bundle of nerves!

Or a swing in Vacuum

The one that to yet God serves

Or a part of an eternal continuum?

A degenerate progeny of A. and E¹.

Or an elevated man will I be.

Nothing is sure, nothing certain

Why to live and how to attain

The Eternal Bliss!

The Eternal Bliss!

OKOT P’BITEK,

A Minstrel of Pensive Love not just a poet in Song Of Lawino.

For so heart touching the song has been.

Of life 'O' Lawino you stand on the desert,

And go far and beyond with wrecked heart.

By Sabya Sachi Gayen

And again O graceful poetry of English,

Monopolize you what heavenly Bliss.

So reaches the falcon in what Afro-soil,

And roosts there with no trouble and toil.

Hence mesmerize your sharp eyes whose mind

In an Ugandan poet your all spells find.

O unique art of ringing the wedding bell

Between English and Acoli exhibits not to fail.

So cultural centre in that country capital

Along you become director of theatre national

And song of Lawino, one of the great masterpiece

Which to enjoy no one should miss

And here Lawino, O poor Acoli damsel

In what manner is stained your wedding bell.

Where is your husband so debauchee Ocol

Seems to me, nothing but a poor soul

Enchanted by the beauty in the west

Bleeds your heart, Oh! Lawino he at best.

Ah! Glorious Acoli culture on the stage of earth

Of life O Lawino you stand on the desert,

And go far and beyond with wrecked heart.

P’Bitek makes you to take rebirth.

Oh! no! at the burden of cultural description

O Lawino, becomes your pain a notion.

Oh! Weep! Weep! Lawino weep quite loud,

Evacuate from your mind the cloud,

Of pain, emotion and that pensive love

Eh! Becomes you a symbol o’ sweet dove

Of not your culture but all Afro worlds

Thus what golden fresco of love moulds

But Alas! What stigma in on your portion

As rebukes Lawino in so caustic motion.

Hay! P’Bitek! Have you done what mess?

Really, the more you darken her face.

Not the way you have to show her pain,

Makes your pen not her, a lover but insane.

But yet your lines in course repeat

In a tragic grandeur, in order to meet.

Eulogize I with honour your nice attempt

Along the style of verse everyone to tempt.

And hence with the unique craft of your hand

A new horizon of English, there expand.

Of love you attune what unholy dirge,

Which is the emotion, yet to submerge.

O holy minstrel of incredible Acoli-land

In what way your lyrics you command,

Ah! Ends it in a very tragic note

But justifies in global stage a culture remote.

And thus play you with your dark violin

Sabya Sachi Gayan 
M.A. (Previous)
Department of English, BHU

LALI…An Oracular Identity

Cuty look, with dreamy eyes,

Lali, with the shades of light,

Sporty fawn, with hairy chain,

Have the mighty power intense,

In nature’s pampering paradise, with exhaultation,

With the guests of assertion.

Halt my Eve! From the words of Satan;

Oh! That delicate flower trodden, under the feet of convention;

Nay! She’ll not bury her someone’s surname,

Neither will wait for a cherubim to rescue from heinous surface,

Hail! The golden rays of enlightenment,

Now, let my discretion stir my recognition

I’ll expand my Lali on the darken canvass,

That’s my destination.

By Pooja Kushwaha
M.A. (Previous)
Department of English, BHU

THE LAMP

THE LAMP

BY Pritish Midya

M.A. (Previous)

Department of English, BHU

The charming day departed soon

And all warmth gone

Evening creeps then imperceptibly

And darkness shrouds the whole gloomy sky.

Beside a stagnant window

You sit alone like a deaf

But a lamp at a distance

You can never see.

A denigration demur…

Then density come and deride…

Oh! The cruel past!

Never come, never come

Behold her!

She tries to shy

But not like the sun.

She may be fowl, but she is fair

She may be holy, she is sinner

Yet when the dark night passes away all

There the lamp stands still

But who knows……………………….?