Fragrance Vol1 Merged

Fragrance
Volume 1
Combined Issue
Presented By:
1. Mr. Waseem A Malla
2. Ms. Shalini Samuel
3. Dr. Sunil Misra
Fragrance Vol 1 Issue 1 Online Literary Magazine
Mar 2013

FRAGRANCE- ISSUE 1 Mar 2013
Volume : 1 Issue : 1 Jan-Mar 2013

Founder: Waseem A Malla
Editor: Shalini Samuel
Mar 2013

Visit:
http://efragrance.weebly.com/
Mar 2013

Editors Note

Dear Readers,
Fragrance, has bloomed into reality, to give everyone an equal opportunity
to showcase their poetic talents to the world. Fragrance gives youngsters,
opportunity to exhibit their skill. We have taken care that readers will get the
maximum pleasure in reading these wonderful poems.
The poem Shake The Dust by Dexter Sam touched my heart the most. This
Issue mainly focuses on young poets. Their modern way of writing and
modern thoughts is put before you. It has some wonderful poems from
senior poets like Tribhawan Kaul.
The magazine is organized wonderfully, with details about the authors along
with their poems. We place this colorful, poetry magazine in your hands.
Read at your leisure. Drop your feedbacks and suggestions at
shalinisamuel.s@gmail.com
Visit our website: http://efragrance.weebly.com/
With the hope, Fragrance the quarterly poetry magazine would steal your
hearts.
Regards
Shalini Samuel
Editor,
Fragrance EMagazine

Mar 2013

Shalini Samuel was born in
Kanyakumari, southern tip of India.
After completing her schooling
(2002) from St.Teresas MHSS,
Kanyakumari, she graduated in
Information Technology (2006) and
took her Masters in Computer
Science from Noorul Islam College
of Engineering (2008) ,
Kanyakumari.

She has been writing poems from
her school days. Her poetic pursuits
took a pause during her college
years. After completing her studies,
she started blogging as a hobby and
slowly turned her concentration on
poetry. She says she is creeping on
the walls of Muse India with a hope
there will be a bloom one day.
Shalini Samuel
Mar 2013

First Trust

Years ago, on this day
I made my noisy entry,
Into this beautiful earth,
As part of human race
With a cheerful pure soul
Greetings from everyone;
Happiness in their speech;
I could hear their words
But not clever to understand
Fearing to open my eyes,
Fearing to trust anyone,
I cried, others laughed
Worn out, I snoozed
Moved by mothers nurture
Eagerly opened my eyes
To glimpse my guardian angel,
First human I trusted

Mar 2013

A poet from Kashmir, India.
He had made attempts with
different genres of poetry, in English,
Urdu and Kashmiri. His poetry is
generally romantic in nature with
thrust on mystical and philosophical
elements. His poetry has been highly
influenced by the contemporary
Urdu poetry and this thing can be
well established while reading most
of his poems. He is influenced by
Maulana Jalal-ud-Din Rumi, Ahmad
Faraaz, Parveen Shakir and Faiz
Ahmad Faiz. Waseem says Though
I can never touch their stature, I try
to write as they used to.
Waseem A Malla
Mar 2013

Rise: As One

Rise, O Ye!
Ye: The children of Adam,
Rise to fall never again,
Rise from every fall you have,
Rise as the sun does in the morn,
Rise as the moon illuminates the night,
Rise, and rise hard:
Rise as the waves in the sea,
After every trough: with their heads up,
In the ocean of eternal love.

Rise, O Ye!
Ye, the dwellers of the earth,
Rise with all the might you have,
Rise to the heights of sky,
For the heavens have the rewards:
The moon- so bright there,
The stars- so numerous in count,
Rise as the moon does from the clouds,
All of them so grey and dark,
Everytime they hide its face.

Rise, O Ye!
Ye, the one who falls, again,
Ye, rise as the wind on the land,
Rise as the thorns blossom in sand,
Rise after every fall you have,
For falling down isn't a sin,
Rising not again is, so rise!
Rise with bodies and souls mingled,
Rise, and rise to live,
Rise, but rise as One...! ! !

Mar 2013

Dexter Sam finished an engineering degree but got bored with
it, and decided to teach in schools instead. He enjoys reading,
writing, eating, sleeping, wandering around the city and
listening to poetry. This piece was written on 1st January as a
response to the recent Delhi Gangrape incident.

Dexter Sam
Mar 2013

Shake The Dust, India

I picked up the newspaper
A Young Woman dies, A Nation Mourns
Rest in Peace, they said
Cos we will Not.
I dropped it in disgust
I cant take any more
It overwhelms me
And scrambles my brains
Today I wont have clever editorials
and opinion pieces
Or the explanations of experts in fancy designs of words
Today I wont stand crocodile tears and empty promises
I will let the bitter taste remain
Today I will not drown her voice in
mindless partying
Or even be the man of whom everybody says theek hai
Today I will not mourn her loss or seek for closure
I will only let the bitter taste remain
There is a place in our hearts
Where news broadcasts and research studies cant go
Assurances of national leaders dont reach there
And the best government in the world will still leave untouched.
There is no promise of safety
There is no sure salvation
There is no hope of glory
Yet. But there will be.
See, like the dust gathering on books
stacked in library shelves
Dulling and deflating the fresh life of ideas within
Cynicism cakes itself on the human heart terrorized by tragedy

But today, lets shake the dust
It might be the
Coldest day of the season
But there is a reason
Why winter always ends
The Sun always comes out
Mar 2013

Elvira is a Fun-loving person,
Avid Bollywood fan, Blog-Writer and
dedicated towards cause for
thalassemia. Born in Mumbai,
having an MBA finance degree, she
is currently working in a corporate
bank. She is a keen enthusiast and
loves to play the guitar, dance,
reading books, making innovative
handicrafts etc. As she quotes,
"Writing poems has been my
passion since young and now have a
blog "Its My Life" to emote my
feelings and thoughts with friends-
Poems on love, life, relations,
abstracts, nature etc". A budding
poet, Elvira has her works(25
poems) published both at the
national and international level in
different anthologies.
Elvira Lobo
Mar 2013

In Your Arms

In your arms I lay for a while,
so soothing to see your gentle smile.
I wish I could be forever this way,
holding you close all day.

I am really in awe of enigma you possess,
your mysterious love seems so endless.
Charming , Exciting and Melting
hearts deeply in love uniting.

In your arms, I'm comforted by your care,
your fingers slowly running through my hair.
Your heart beat is in sync with mine,
every breath together brings me closer to thine.

I am enjoying your choicest attention you maintain,
little blushes makes my blood freeze in my veins.
How Toxic, Maddening and Enchanting is your love that's so pure,
In your arms,I lay passionately in love feeling so secure.

Mar 2013

Asif Andalib was born on 27
November in 1967 at Moez Monzil,
Komlapur, Faridpur of Bangladesh.
He writes poems and lyrics both in
English and Bengali. He was
literature editor of a cultural
organization Oniketh. Later he
served as its general secretary. He
was ranked one of the top 500
poets of PoemHunter.com many
times. Moreover one of his poem
has been published in The Top 100
Poems of 2012 the years most
awaited worlds poetry anthology.
Poetry Press Publishing Group of
Songwriting Opportunities, USA has
published the book.

Asif Andalib
Mar 2013

Theres someone made for me

Theres someone made for me
I feel it from my bone
I know you are out there
So call me over phone
And make an appointment
I am still home alone

Understand my feelings
Dont let me sob and groan
You are my reality
And imagination
Show your face like the sun
In my lifes horizon

Waiting for you too long
Has made me like a stone
This song is like a bird
Baby it has now flown
With musics tender wings
To the known and unknown

Mar 2013

Born on 10th May, 1994, Arirta Mukherjee is the eldest
son of Mr. Mrs. Sudipta Mukherjee. Writing from the little
cosmopolitan town of Liluah, ituated near Howrah, the
aspiring poet is presently pursuing his graduation in
English from Scottish Church College, Kolkata.

Aritra Mukherjee
Mar 2013

Ghosts

Haunted by a thousand voices,
Do you grope in the darkness?
Do you escape?
Or return?
Or escape to return?

Laughter contemptuous
Smile amorphous
Sobbing continuous

Nails scratching concrete,
Dragged with a sour
Teeth-roughening grind

A million vicious legs
Of an insect hideous,
Scuttle along the
Walls and floor
Of your blind
Cranial room
Rustle sickening.

Cribbed by breathless fear,
Do you intend to be lost?
Or found?
Or lost to be found?
Digging your nails
Deep into your chest,
Do you tear yourself asunder?
Bloody clumps of muscles,
Pieces of lungs,
Throbbing mutilated heart...
Did you exorcise the ghosts?
Smothering an ageless scream
With the groan of a wounded animal?

Mar 2013

Tribhawan Kaul was born on 01-01-1946
in J&K State. His first book Nanhe Muno Ke
Rupak was published at the age of 13 years.
Having keen interest in writing poetry and short-
stories, he took to serious writing in both English
and Hindi after his retirement. His published
works in hindi include besides, Nanhe Munno Ke
Rupak( a book for children), two anthologies of
hindi poems, Sab Rang (2010) and Mann Ki
Tarang (2012). His English poems
are appreciated both by foreign and Indian poets
on various poetic sites and have been selected for
publication in various books/anthologies viz How
to prevent rape & molestation (book), Inklinks,
Bhelpuri, womens Muse etc. Publication of an
anthology of his poems titled Children of Lost
God is under consideration.
Tribhawan Kaul
Mar 2013

Dont Kill Me

Kill me not, Pa
poison me not, Ma
strangle me not, brother
I am one of your own
let some mercy be shown
your blood runs into my veins
let you not bind me in chains
give my wishes some space
let me live also with honour
and grace.
Desires have wings
so have mine
what if I love someone?
how is that a crime ?
made my choice
want you to hear my voice
my heart beats for him
why have I to pay the price?

Heart overrules the mind
society has never been kind
different caste, religion and state
have to write my own fate
Why torture me?
Why shatter my dreams?
Why you shame and fail your own?
You are not urbane, to me it
seems.

You blood thirsty savages
you traditional sticklers
Oh you perpetrators of heinous crime
Your preaching and actions do not rhyme.
Shame on you Goddess worshiper
Girls may refuse to take birth
Eve was created by HIM for love
HE now also thinks was it at all worth.
Kill me not Pa or poison me not Ma
strangle me not brother.

Mar 2013

Herojit Philem alias Hero was born to Philem Nanda
Singh and Philem Sarojini Chanu, on 10th Nov.1995. In
Manipur, a state in North Eastern India. He started writing
poetry from the age of 14 been inspired by loneliness. At
present he writes in The Sangai Express, a daily paper in
Manipur

Herojit Philem
Mar 2013

Two Roads to Home

There are two roads
For me to go home
One is narrow and lengthy
With many pits and khuds
Chances of falling is high.
On this path,
I'll suffer much pains.
Every pain will give me courage
To walk, to go ahead.
Even though I fall
I can stand and walk
With respect.
For, it takes me
To front door of my house
Where my family waits
With smiles.

The other route
Is wide and short
Flowers of pleasure blossom
On either sides
Enjoying the nectar,
I may walk
But, if I slip
I can never stand and talk.
Because, it enters the wide door
Where my father waits
With anger to lecture.
Oops! Two roads to go home
I have to decide
On which I must go-
Whether to see my family happy
Or listen my father's lecture.

Mar 2013

Rosemary (ruth) Daguio is just 20. Still in
college. She had started to write since she was in
elementary. She is very emotional...that's what they
see (and it's true ) .She is proud to be a DAGUIO, and
even more proud about her grandfather, Amador T.
Daguio, who was the famous writer, The Wedding
dance.

Rosemary
Daugio
Mar 2013

My Amnesia Girl

the past... the memories.. all gone
with the blink of her eyes.. I can see nothing but darkness...
darkness.. it's all there..
why.. how could it be..
everything that has been built..
framed with laughter and tears..
they.. all disappeared..
too hard...too hard to bear..
so many days.. years that's been together..
warmth on my arms..
it's gone..
now...just an innocent love whose trying to put things together..
hoping for any strings..
images of the past...
that has been blurred.. faded.. and buried itself.. deeper than the deepest ocean..
and I...nothing but an old friend.. that's what it should be..
don't try to meddle..
just passed through the hurdle..
and see what's next..
I have no choice but to let it be..
time should come.. it will..
on any other way.. these would be all right...

Mar 2013

The poet is currently working as a Scientist in a
government organization at Bangalore. He has been
penning down poems both in English and Hindi
since his college days. A few of his english poems have
been published in recently launched national poetry
anthology Inklinks alongside some literary revered
names. He soon aspires to bring out his hindi poetry
collection (along with his friends) and to write an
adventure fiction novel in the coming time. He is
reachable at hi FB fanpage -->
https://www.facebook.com/VPS.hitaishi
Vikas Pratap
Singh
Mar 2013

Lady of My Dreams

Blissful face, and eyes dreamy
blessed nature, tresses dispersed
a single view of yours for me
is a vista of whole universe

Gracious grin and divine smile
charming tone of seductive voice
your walk stretches heaven's guile
not-being-in-your-awe ain't a choice

In your shadow, my spirit gleams
takes over me an aura smothered
if you ain't here, lady of my dreams!
living a lie, I don't bother

Your existence solely in thoughts even
maketh my day glimmer;
to meet you on earth or in heaven
awaiting that moment for ever

-Vikas Pratap Singh

Mar 2013

Dar Mudasir Rahman from Kashmir, India

Dar Mudasir
Rahman
Mar 2013

Loss

Loss- it seems is the worst kind of sorrow
Loss of dreams, the dreams of tomorrow
Loss of the moments you two should have shared
Loss of opportunities to show her you cared
Loss of the memories you both could have created
Loss of the romance once intense as you dated
Loss of a kiss, caress, or embrace
Loss of that special feeling no one else can replace
Loss of a look, the twinkle in her eye
Loss of the touch as you pass each other by
Loss of a future, from a past of regret
Loss of a last chance, how many do you get
Loss of a promise you never meant to break
Loss of two hearts that forever will ache

Mar 2013

Anuj Tikku is a bollywood actor and also a poet

Anuj Tikku
Mar 2013

Hope
When all is lost there is still hope
Hope that things lost can be taken
Deeds done can be forsaken
The hope that all is not gone in vain
There is still a lot to gain
Lost gain to be won back
As I wander into a new track

Hope the deed Solitude,
maturity and many songs for me toss of today
Will pay me returns some other day
Hope for a quite dawn
Like the flight of the white swan
Hope that I would reach into my inner core
ask for creativity, forgiveness, love, trust and much more

Hope to hear my true voice soon
And launch me up towards the moon
To take me up to wonderland
Where I can play my merry band
Hope that that change will bring

Mar 2013

Eric Shelman, was a hater of all forms of poetry until he
met one of his first literary masters named Philip
Mcdonald while serving in the U.S. A. Navy and who
thoroughly convinced him to change his ways. So he
began writing forms such as acrostics, double acrostics,
and many others.

Eric Shelman
Mar 2013

The Sun

Mourning-raises and evening-out Set
Exploding and uniting vapors are my everlasting fodder
Orientating the sphere of existence around me
Golden locks beard my youthful face
Stolen I am, but gained, lost, and redistributed throughout the
cycle
A vital ingredient for games of production, reproduction, and
sustenance am I
A creator for, a destroyer of and a sustainer-of-all, am I
My kisses are randomly discharged into the vastness
Infinite amounts of livelihood is what offers I

Mar 2013

She's an author, poet and a minister of the gospel of
Christ. She's born again and Holy Spirit filled. The first
born child of her parent, she's a nigerian from delta state.
An urhobo by tribe.

Sakpere Light
Mar 2013

The Passion of Christ
Bread to break
Cup to take
Jesus wants us
To keep His memory alive
Thus, As we break the bread
And take the Cup
We affectionately
Relive the Passion of the Christ!

Mar 2013

Born in Wisconsin, David Tuttle spent most of his
adolescence moving around east Texas. In high school
his parents moved away

David Tuttle
Mar 2013

Detritus
you held my head in your hands
like a burnt book
picking out whatever phrases
and disconnected lines
you could, from the blackness
you held me close
like the ash of a burnt home
our breaths began to rhyme
and eventually
you breathed me in
I watched, quiet, like smoke when you were sleeping
I held on to you
clogged your lungs with all my strength
and you became so full of me
laid my name out on your coarsened tongue
and I bathed in you like sunlight
the words stopped meaning anything
it was just noise, clicking, penlines
and
You held my head in your hands
like a burnt book.
Mar 2013

Melody Pierson is a songwriter, poet, musician and a
student of literature, fine arts and metal-smithing.
She has worked extensively in the area of media in front
and in back of the microphone as host, news caster,
researcher, and news editor.
Her first of love, songwriter, has won her numerous
award, including the Canadian Genie for Best Song for a
Film. "Les Plouffes" co-written with Stephanne Venne.
Her music collaborations feature artists such as Award
Winning Clair Marlo, Leslie Pearl and is known as the
"song doctor" on the West Coast.

Melody Pierson
Mar 2013

The aroma comes first.
A wave of an indeterminable smell
lures you
Bringing you in, to the gaze
of his eyes
The smell of his neck under the sun
is with him
seemingly only for your pleasure.
Each step brings you closer
To him
Your breath is his desire
He defies your senses
And looks into you
The need to blend
Inhale
Deeper this one time,
it is a scent only
meant for you.
and him,
Should you come apart.
Mar 2013

Chicory Poetry grew up in the isolated coal mining
mountains of Virginia and began writing poetry & short
stories at the age of nine
The evolution of the iPhone camera allows Chicory to
merge captured images to give further strength to his
creations
Previous publishing venues include .. Casa Italian .. The
Connection ... Unity Magazine
Remembrance - whether real or imagined ... is a
reoccurring theme in his poetry

Chicory Poetry
Mar 2013

Another Country

Do you know the difference
Or
Is there a difference
Between raging desperation
And
The mere lingering fragrance of
Melancholy

This evening the drawbridge is lowered
Then
Tonight I will see you in another country
Mar 2013

S.V.Janani from Cuddalore, Tamil Nadu, India is doing UG
degree (English Literature) in Krishnasamy college of
science, arts and management for women, Cuddalore. As
a student of Literature, she loves poetries and poems.
Her passion on Literature made her to write poems.
She blogs at WWW.JANESARA.BLOGSPOT.IN.

S.V.Janani
Mar 2013

PAST,PRESENT AND FUTURE
An Angel gifts
a magical wings to me,
which takes me
to the past in present,

My past
is full of passion
and poison,

I came across
want and haunt,
I came across
flight and plight,
I came across
twist and worst,
It's namby- pamby.

I depart from past,
everything manifest
before me,
I stumble and feel
humble,
to look back my past........

In hurly-burly
present,
my blithe
mind,
wanders everywhere,
mystifies my life,
I fly with my
magical wings and
swing in sky......
to foresee my
vociferous and
victorious
future,

Almighty
take away
falsity and present
a pretty life to live
with indemnity....!!!!!!
Mar 2013

.

Prof.Ganapathy
Subramanian
Mar 2013

Portrait of a Lady

She is so slim that slimness shrugged its
Shoulders and felt shy.
She is so delicate that very delicacy
Decidedly uneasy
Took a day off defeated, defied.
She is so charming
That very charm chose to chide
Itself as Chimera
She is so subtle that subtlety itself
Submitted, surrendered.
She is so elegant that very elegance,
Edge out, enervated,
Elected to stay out of the race.
She is so intelligent that
Very intelligence
In an inebriated mood felt inept.
She is so soft-spoken that she
Stole the show over
Very softness.
She is so serene that serenity
Sedately sauntered out.
She is so sensible that
Very sensibility stood staring
She is so refined that
Very refinement relinquished
Its throne, resigned itself to rest.
She is so fair that fairness fared
Far from its Fame.
She is so fascinating that fascination
Felt finicky and forlorn.
She is so sweet that sweetness
Surreptitiously slide away.
She is so attractive that very
Attractiveness abjured its abode.
She is so beautiful that beauty
Beat a retreat, beaten
and battered.
Mar 2013

A poet and teacher,Sangnam Nam was born in
South Korea and attended Kyunghee University,
University of Northern Colorado and briefly State
University of New York at Albany. Her first poem was
written when she was 15 a long prose poem but she
didn't know she was a poet until she went to America
and had encounters with poets on the road.Her poem
was first published when she was 8 in her second-grade
year though.Sangnam Nam taught at
Rangeview High Shchool in Aurora, Colorado, Lynn
Middle School and Sunrise Elementary School in Las
Cruces,New Mexico, USA and recently at Catholic Sangji
College in Andong, South Korea

Sangnam Nam's Published Books:

Firefly (2009)
Voices for Peace (2012)
ISBN9781300391944

Translated by,
Sangnam
Mar 2013

Confession -

() ()
.

O what shame it is
to see my face still intact
in this rusted-green bronze mirror
What dynasty's heritage this is,
I wonder!

() .
( ()
.

Let me sum up this record of my confession
-24 years and one month of my life
for what joy have I lived?

() .

.

Tomorrow or the day after one of these days
I might have to write another line of confession...
Why did I have to write such a shameful confession
at that young age?

.

Let me wipe the mirror night after night
with my palm and sole.
()

.

Then I see a lone sad figure
walking alone under a meteorite
in this mirror

< , ' (1948)

- Yun Dong-Ju (1917-1945)

Vol: 1 Issue 2 Managing Editor : Waseem A Malla Apr-Jun, 2013
Editor:Shalini Samuel

Editors Note

Dear Readers,

Cover picture by Sheri Wright
Glad to meet you again though Fragrance's second issue. The response we got for the
very first issue was great and we were overwhelmed by your mails and comments.
This issue has got more wonderful submissions from talented poets all over the world.
When we planned of a themed issue, we were not sure whether it will work out. We had
an idea of relaxing the rules as we were scared submissions would decline. But to our
astonishment our talented poets jumped into action flooding our inbox with wonderful
poems. Every poem was fantastic and we had a tough time choosing poems for our
magazine.
Every poem gave me a different picture to the word flower. You all would be very eager
to read Fragrance and I am sorry for delaying it a bit. I hope your enthusiastic and
patient wait wont go in vain.
Regards,
Shalini Samuel,
Editor in chief,
Fragrance.

SHE IS

As fresh as first grass
Is the velvet green wrap
Enclosing the bud leaves amass
Dark petal tears shiny trap

Little bud emerges out to the rays of sun
Like someone who has awaken in the morn
She blooms to the fullest in little run
Wide open like smiling eyes yet stubborn

She spreads the scent of love
Standing erect on stalk, with sepals
Drooping down and taking a bow
Who guards her rich royal petals?

To quench the thirst of her love
She remains pious holding nectar till the end
Blending her fragrance with breeze above
She waits until dusk, bids farewell taking a bend

Ends up on the grave of someones beloved
Or brightens the color of love in a lover
Or becomes a subject to a poet unloved
Her sacrifice is unrevealed still, she is a flower
-Basilia

Desires

Colours all that come with
red, rosy, white, purple and yellow
have gone to these flowers.

Should some flow of meanings
carrying spectacles of life
be spilled once over the people
who are entering darkness
black like coal
carrying with them
the sadness with faded colours,
in great haste
scorching in fret and hunger!

I have a desire to see
a transformed face
of the world.
Bhisma Upreti
Email: bhisma.upreti@gmail.com

Flowers in the Hills

This year, too
Flowers blossomed in the hills.
Bukis bloomed
and rhododendrons too.

Flower-like maidens
went running to the plants
plucked blossoms to put in their hair.
Wet in the drizzle of colors,
bathed in the fragrance of petals,
they ran to the brook
and saw their own faces.
Shy of themselves
they ran away and took shelter
in the hearts of young-men.

In the hills of rocks
suffering there is harder than the rocks.

Like hopes,
if these flowers, too, were not blossoming here
how could people live
in such heights
where living is hard.
Bhisma Upreti
Email: bhisma.upreti@gmail.com

Orange Day Lily
I mean, a Bright Orange Day Lily
One that encapsulates all shades of Orange
Looking like an electronic charge,
Bounding forward
You arose from a green cocoon,
Surround by darker green leaves
Your smell is an aphrodisiac, and draws me in
Taking my breath away,
I stop and stare at your outward beauty
Bees around and abound being drawn to you,
And your magnetic charm
Mother Natures calling card,
Is doing business in my back yard
I am awe struck; want to bring you in,
But cant end your life
Leaving you to garnish my yard,
I will settle on being a peeping tom
Till you dry up,
Then blow away,
In the warm summer winds!
D Everett Newell 6/17/2011

NEWBORN SPRING

A new colored blanket,
a shine on the lustrous greens.

The cuckoo is heard humming a hymn,
the cherry tree is dazzling in pink.

Young daffodils and lilies have just woken from sleep,
whats so special of this new dawn,

The wind carries a message and gives a ring,
Rejoice people, welcome the Newborn Spring!!!

Elvira Lobo.
Mumbai, India

FLOWERS

My intellect fails to uncover the truth,
How thee succeed to, thyself soothe.
When filth engulfs every realm of earth,
From where thee extracts colour of mirth.
And glow to display thy untainted grace.
You are envied by every race.

Thee born to bloom, so thee remain.
Displays thy prowess beyond thy domain.
Thy fragrance subdues every odour,
Thy bloom attracts the cloudy cover.
Out of Love, it rains, thee to embrace.
Enrich thy base, kiss thy face

Indrajit Rai

Flowering Time

When ever the world grows darker
from death, war and gloom.
Hearts must heal from all these pains
for flowers still bloom.
Music of soul must journey so far
out through clouds of dust and ages passed.
We shall walk, dance, pray, and sing,
for a hearts joy brings what will surely last.
Recesses of anger, shame, guilt and blame
shall not hide nor rule in our lives forever.
This day we shall decide for pure love
for were all in this garden together.
Celebrating our blooming essence of giving

beautiful joy everyday in life were living.
For when night shall come to fall,

we can rest in peace as we lay.
Grateful our flowering pink lotus life
is bringing us a new dawn.
Happiness sings its laughter
in our blossoms fragrant song!

Poem and Photo by: Jen Walls
10/28/12
mywritegift@gmail.com

A Summer Jasmine

With pearl pale glitter, and placid odored toxic tone,
I initiate fiery summers radient sprinkle.
With festive presence, and feliciting gifts flown,
I relish in my beauty twinkle.

With mangoe sweets, and childrens games of their own,
I invite bridal dreams to every eyes to replace tiresome crinkle.
With fulfilled colour and uniqueness of my own,
I envey Indian women of their accomplishedness without gloomy wrinkle.

With moonlight clarity, and flawless snowfall sown,
I preach this invered world the innocence winkle.
With short life and challenging this big world upthrown,
I live for the moment, for creating momentous mood in elevating everyday tinkle.

By Jyothsnaphanija
jyothsnaphanija@gmail.com

A Saffron Rose

Fallen leaves of pulchritudinous spring,
Forgotten lyrics of a classic song,
Gloomy sunshine of morning daylight,
Glittering pearls of splintery ornament,
Like your celestial dreams deliquesced in the dusky life,
Are timelessly dwindling like the snowstorm in the red-hot river.
Time with its ironbound hand has shellacked light before your eyes,
When will you see it again?

The golden cradle of selfish love,
The crimson penumbra of poisonous love,
The sepia string of scrappy love,
Have sundered your cerulean space of selfless love.
But your lovely appearance is untouched by lovelessness of pulverizing purpled
pennoned love.

Your beauty did not shell out euphoria,
Your skilled redolence did not please you,
Your plangent petals of clement soul is needed to none,
With thorns of little tussle even, you are flimsy quintessence.

In the nocturnal hush of despair,
Your whishes are not voiced.
In the breathless water down of usual febrific routine ,
You forgot to laugh.
In the uphill waves of sea of lifes hardships cycle,
You lost yourself.

Your loneliness of incessant lacuna,
Your hopelessness of solitary space,
Scattered dreams of your shattered recollection,
Still longed to be soothen, to share
With coloured eyes lingering persistently,
Remains ever loosing saffron of everlasting rose.
By Jyothsnaphanija
jyothsnaphanija@gmail.com

The Flower In Red

Energetic is my gait
Passionate is my style
Determined is my will
Stimulating is my profile

Intense is my desire
Fiery is my bearing
Resilient is my behaviour
Courageous is my being

I give love for love
But am dangerous too
If you bamboozle me
I can retaliate too

Red is my being
Red is my hue
With my vibrant spirits
I colour the milieu

Neelam Chandra
C-164, RDSO Officers Colony,
Manak Nagar, Lucknow-226011

Acrostic Flowers

F lowers
L ive near open doors, on the mantel piece, in designer vases but
O ften absent in unsmiling eyes from
W here quarrels emanate and curses fly
E legant carpeted floors
R un under unfriendly souls
S ans welcome smiles

F ine art work on walls
L ooks at hostile undercurrents swirling beneath the
O pulent lace
W orldly pleasures and
E vil thoughts make
R andom joys run awry
S ee the hearts flawed beyond solace!

F orlorn are the houses with lush blossoms where
L ittle joy bloom in human bosoms
O pt not for hoarded antiques nor for
W ooden tiled designer floors
E verlasting are the homes with laughter galore
R ule is a hug a day to
S ee a heart become a garden.

Reena Prasad

Destiny of Flowers

Approaching spring season
Bring ecstasy to blooms
Creating a new world
Banishing gloom
Blossoming into flowers
Sadness then overcomes
Shortened life, boon or bane
Getting plucked, time and again
Killing a living one for personal gain !
For temples to adore
For deities to proffer
For hair to beautify
For bonds to testify
None can justify
Act of fingers
Fragrance still lingers
Through the seasons
Waiting for a new beginning
And end too
Destiny of flowers.
All rights reserved/Tribhawan Kaul
kaultribhawan@yahoo.co.in

Reincarnation of a flower

Offer me not in temples
worship me not with gods
pluck me not and kill
let me wither on the branch itself
fading away, wont die still.

Living in seeds
will sprout again
under the heaps
transmigrating into buds
blooming to flowers
spreading fragrance
all round and everywhere.

All rights reserved/Tribhawan Kaul
kaultribhawan@yahoo.co.in

Flowers

Amazing creativity of that unknown artist!
Colour splash like a multi-dimensional artwork,
Genius brush strokes create unparalleled beauty
With indigenous shades.
Inexhaustible range of fragrance
Soothes mind, body and soul.
A womb filled with re-generating and replenishing seeds,
Opens a gateway for
Many awe-inspiring and immortal creations
Welcome to the enchanting world of FLOWERS.
- Vinita Surana
(vinitasurana14@gmail.com)

The Book of Chicory
Chapter 2 ...Verse 1

I remember
the wandering
meandering river
wild dandelions
(yellow as the sun)
&
bitter chicory

(blue as a sky)
grew upon its banks
time passed
&
memories
etched
into a mosaic
to remind me
so never
again will
I forget

CHICORY POETRY

Beautiful Imagination

1.
I wake up on thorns to sleep on bed of roses
Not letting me forget i live in between thorns of roses.

2.
Waft of wind whistled to open the smile of flowers
Fragrance ran out to hug waft of wind
Wind carried fragrance along to unknown land to spread love
Love was stirred to bring joy in all hearts

3.
Wind walk slowly,softly
With whistle like lullaby
As the night falls Beautiful flowers sleep soundly
It's a raat rani awake
spreading fragrance
To tempt you
Come to her to stay awake

Perhaps you may not know
In the hours of day when you come
Don't come with your confidence overly grown
Mind you! It's sun that will stop you
It is sure to impede your flirtious move
It's his daffodils, sunflowers and marigold
If you dare eye them!
Such will be the heat of envy
If once it hears you whistle
You will be burnt to ashes
Kalpana Shah

The Life With Blossoms

waterfall
I photograph its mist
on blossoms

spring morning
a rose wallah
dresses a boquet

distant hill
a river carrying
the cherry blossoms

springs end
my infant fingers
the fallen petal

autumn drizzle
a wallah shakes
the orchid bouquet

Ramesh Anand
Bangalore,
India
rameshsvce@yahoo.com

FRAGRANCE FRAGRANCE FRAGRANCE FRAGRANCE
VOL 1 ISSUE 3 VOL 1 ISSUE 3 VOL 1 ISSUE 3 VOL 1 ISSUE 3
Jul - Sep 2013

Managing Editor : Waseem A Malla
Editor in Chief: Shalini Samuel
Cover i!:"eelam Sa#ena Chandra

$ear %eaders&

'lad to meet (ou through third issue of )ragran!e*
)ragran!e has gro+n so fast* More and more su,missions
are pouring in from poets all over the +orld* Choosing
fe+ poems from that ,undle isn-t an eas( .o,*
)ragran!e is ta/ing a step for+ard ,( introdu!ing (ou our
ne+ !o-editor $r*Sunil Mishra* And 0 hope (ou +ould all
love him*
We have de!ided to !harge reading fee for (our
su,missions* )irst t+ent( da(s of reading period +ill not
demand (ou an( fee* 1his is .ust to ensure timel(
su,missions* 1he fund +ill ,e used later to pa(
!ontri,utors and organi2e !ontests* 0 hope (ou +ill love
this !hange*
%egards
Shalini Samuel
Editor in Chief
)ragran!e
i!ture ,( 0ra Joel 3a,er

1he Moment
$ro+ns out m( voi!e to (our s(mphon(
0nto fathoms of thoughts to a!!ompan(
1he !hords of heart& pla(s ever( string
When 0 sense (ou& li/e daffodils in spring
4looms ,right smile& as m( e(es ,esee!h
)or (our presen!e& in silent melod( spee!h
4esotted +ith (ou& in ,osom of this moment
See/s a ripple of pleasure am,ient
)ree2e oh time5 When 0 refle!t deep
0n his !harming e(es& in his arms as 0 seep
-Basilia Leva

$ar.eeling- A aradise

setting herself ,et+een the hills
she nurtures as a foe
rusti! she is
ne!taring the ur,anit(
em,ellished +ith a verdure of pines
she loo/s li/e a ,eautiful lass
demure she loo/s hiding her ,eaut(
set a+a( from the population soothing in the sun
no less than a heaven she vie+
+ith .ust ra+ sounds of !hirping and the fresh sounds of !u!/oo
she seem no less than a ,eautiful 6ueen
the t+ists and turns of the roads
the +histle of the to( train
the oo2e of the smo/e
no+here !an ,e found
set ,et+een the hills
the earl( sun spreading over the /an!hen.unga&
as if reda!ting a ne!/la!e to a ,eautiful 6ueen
tou!hing the s/(& met +ith the souls of ,raver(
here d+ells the gor/has
,raver( in their ,lood respe!t in their heart

the( situates them on heart( land !alled the 6ueen of hills
gulped in the rain from mid ma( till the septem,er end
the +et soil smell pleases ever( mind
defined +ith its !old +eather the freshness it !aters
re.uvenates ever( tegument
reall( an earth( paradise she seems*

Biswash Galay

0n Another Countr(

hills are more lovel(
in another !ountr(
no apparitions to !ling
to remem,ran!e
from another !ountr(

shuffle of the ,ree2e
s!atters m( past
from another !ountr(
fragran!es are more s+eet
in another !ountr(

-Chicory Poetry

En!hanting %ose

1ra!ing the interlining
7f an imprinted soul
8ines !as!ading along
1he ,eaut( of !r9me s/in*

Entran!ed ,( a stunning rose
Saturation of hues
:eave a deep aura
7f lulla,( /isses*

Surrounding the hearts petals
1he s+a( of the fragran!e
$oes engrave a ,eaut(
7f life-s most pre!ious gift*

Photo and Poem 2013
Cristy Upshaw

Moon and Sun;s 0nterlude
Moon and Sun< the )ather of 1ime -
0ntervals of deities- m(sti!al pla(s&
Classi!al ,eams silver gold s!reen -
Sprint /indliness and ,lissful ra(s*

1he polarit( of a distant devotion
1hrough time and spa!e !ollide&
0n atmospheri! e,,s and flo+s
"o !elestial +ave !an hide*

Cristy Upshaw

Satin 0ris;

:oving +ords ,lo+ in&
:eaving me in silent pra(er&
Silhouettes light left&
%a(s of soft !aresses&
0n satin sheets of iris;*

Cristy Upshaw

After the 3a2e
1here* :eaves s+irling li/e sna/es
upon the road& rising& pinioned to stri/e*
S/(-s gre( venom& fanged thunder!louds*

7n the ne+s& hailstorms pelting in Jurong*
4uildings and !ars agoni2ed ,( i!e shards*
4e(ond our +indo+s& rain-s ,egun a-falling&

the distant +hip-lash of
lightning-
flashes*
We-ve little in/ling +hat goes on ,e(ond
the pale pane of +indo+s* 3ear them rattling&
li/e ghosts rapping a,out to !ome in*
We-ve little in/ling +hat goes on
,e(ond the thi!/ s/ulls of mentalit(*
Some !olleagues .esting& =+h( no hail
our distri!t>? 1he frost of mouths !ould
,ring in the !urses& invite in
the ghosts*
1he sna/ing leaves s+ept
no+here ,( the deluge* 7ur fortune
of not-(et-hailstorms*

-Dan an

A tou!hing tou!h
E(es /issing lips& lips /issing e(es&
0!( +inds +ere s+eating deepl(&
1empting rain of sighs painted s/(&
7ur !urvature falling steepl(&
Wet mis!hief of ,urning ,reaths&
3ands !aressing hairs&
4odies entangled ,eholding fun&
@na+are of their mat!hless shares&
Spong( lips tasting immensel(&
Sprin/ling +ater( naught( ne!/&
$eli!ate deli!ious ,odies dissolving into one&
Who !ares for a =Che!/?&
)eeling the +etted !urves&
4oiling ,odies evaporating&
1imelessness and motionlessness&
1repidation of innateness separating&
"umerous /isses& /issing th( soul&
Ever( tou!h of ,od( generates sighs&
An elation of emotive fragran!es&
Creating memora,le infinite highs
! Diwa"ar Po"hriyal

Whose fa!e it is

the mirror sho+s a different pi!ture ever( da(

the flame shooting out from the firepla!e
it-s !ounting the ne+ arrivals
the flame of the !andle sa(s good ,(e
to those +ho are going a+a(

anti!ipation gathers inside
a ,utterfl( +ith spread +ings
lies on the ,urning ro!/( floor

paint rolls off of the +all
the house rises up for
the fresh fa!ed +ind
to fl( it
to another pla!e

Ga#or G Gy$"ics% &$n'ary

0t !ares not +hat (ou;ll ,e!ome

a !igarette smoulders +ith (ou together
the +ind !omes in to fet!h the smo/e
loo/s around
+hat else there is to ta/e
,ut rather it sniffs
sho+s a grima!e
tears a pie!e off a paper ,ag
tips over a plasti! !up
hits (ou in the fa!e
pushes the !urtain to the side
and
slams the +indo+
after leaving (ou ,ehind


1hat is (our o+n

during tail-+ind
the head+ind
pushes (ou ,a!/
onl( the motion remains

(our ,od( is sear!hing for the gap
(our e(es are alread( ,ehind the +ind

the +eight of "othing in (our head
is a pa+n pressed in the !orner
(ou +on;t meet him ever
,ut +hat;s +aiting


M( %eligion
1a/e a pin!h of the dust of the stars&
la!e it under gravit(-s pressure
And +ithin our mi!ros!ope-s vision
1o find ,ottomless e!ho !an(ons
4et+een ro+s of multi!olored grains
7f ne+ sand& no t+o ali/e e#!ept
1+o half parts of a spiral !enter
Split and separated at t+o end points
7f a universe* la!e the slide in
A small !apsule and send it to sea&
%eturn& pla!e (our footsteps in the sand*
Wait& +itness the magnifi!en!e of
"ature and its timing of all things
Within a single fused grain of sand*

Lyndon (eit)

MA A"'E: 0" $0S'@0SE

0 heard that there +as an angel in the to+n
0 sear!hed the to+n upside do+n
$e.e!ted& one eve as 0 +as sitting +earil(
M( daughter !ame home and sat on m( lap merril(B

She !uddled me& she gave me a /iss
3er /iss gave me an ultimate ,lissB
0 loo/ed silentl( at her heavenl( e(es
And dis!overed it +as m( eternal paradise555

3er fair(-li/e poise had a soothing !alm
3er a!tions had a ma.esti! !harm555
:i/e a happ( star 0 sa+ her fa!e t+in/ling
Soft +ords from her lips +ere .ingling555

3er loving tou!h made me realise
She had al+a(s ,een m( angel in disguiseB
While 0 +as hopelessl( sear!hing in aris and %ome
1he angel +as silentl( per!hed in m( s+eet home555

0 hugged her and 0 too/ her in m( arm
0 let m(self free in her angeli! +armth
So lu!/( +as 0 to have her +ith me
)inall( at pea!e - 0 smiled +ith glee*
*eelam (a+ena Chandra

1he %ose 4ud

7f all the ,looms that de!/ed the pe+s&
so splendid in their vi,rant hues&
the fragrant rose ,uds !aught most e(es&
holding the promise of long lives*

Aet outside on the dust( road&
there la( a rose ,ud dirt-!loa/ed&
and hurr(ing feet to its ,eaut( ,lind&
,uried it deeper till it died*

1hus em,ra!ed the lo+l( earth&
another !hild in earl( death&
a tin( moment unheeded& unsought&
no one to miss it& hidden ,( frost*

Cold it +as and nature !ried&
,ut !older still the hearts that shied&
from pi!/ing up that helpless ,ud&
!ho/ing lonel( pleas to ,e loved*

And still goes on the !ruel round
of !rushing& stifling inno!en!e ,ound&
till +e no longer hear the sound
of falling tears that sin/ the ground*

*eha (in'h

7riginal Sin

7ne !areless !hildish foot in pursuit&
pressed do+n on a little !hi!/*
0t opened li/e a ,urst guava&
revealing its shameless red innards
to horrified guilt( e(es*

When pla( ,e!ame traged(
and Eve ,it the apple&
,lood stained her memor(&
mar/ing her forever*

What protruded from the open ,od(
,efouled it& +as not part of it*
@nnatural and strange it had sprung up
,eneath her o,livious foot*

Su!h na/edness had to ,e hidden*
1he mud +as poured 6ui!/l(& desperatel(
the ,urial given and forgiveness as/ed
,ut never forgotten& not even no+*
*eha (in'h

4et+een @s

Aour fragile pulse lies hidden&
!urled up +ithin /nots of flesh*
Soft and strong are the sine+s
of (our arms*
0 am all loved up*
4reathless in (our em,ra!e&
a little frightened of (our po+er*

3ere at the nape of the ne!/
e#posed& (our heart,eat !annot es!ape me
and flutters ,eneath m( lips
as if unsure and afraid of me*
When 0 !r(& m( tears fall right there*
Crisp star!hed shirt ,e!omes +et
and !lings to (our soft hard ne!/& and 0 to (ou*

*eha (in'h

1he Sorro+ of 1rees

1he trees lift
t+isted lim,s
in suppli!ation
to an( listening
godC

=Ma/e us dan!e
as +e did +hen
+e +ere
(oung5?

4ut their trun/s
have gro+n too
thi!/
for su!h !avorting
and even the +ind
!an onl( +hisper
!omfort*

,ie ,ose

Earl( Morning

1here is a softness
to the air of
morningB
,efore the harsh
realities of the da(
,egin to intrude*

1he sun&
ne+ risen&
is +arm as a
lover-s em,ra!e&
not hot and
s!ornful*

1he +ind +hispers
se!rets in a
pla(ful tease
instead of
ho+ling its
anger*

Earl( morning
holds the promise
of eternit(*
,ie ,ose

:ove is an illusion*

0 am ,orn alone and shall go alone*
0n the mean+hile also 0-m alone*
7nl( +hen 0 am in love +ith someone
0 ma/e an illusion that 0-m +ith one*

$ra+ hopes

A movie moves us*
A stor( tou!hes us*
1he( aren-t real*
Dno+ing it& +e do*
We en.o( in follies*
4e 'od real or not<
:et us ta/e 3im real
And dra+ from 3im hopes*

rmshanm$'am chettiar

Star anatom(
Shimmering lip gel
8ermilion redness of a setting sun
1em,ling& !harred lips !amouflaged
)avoured tissues& smothering the lips
%e.oi!ing ever( signature
4ruised heart& .in#ed fate mourning
:onesome soul& a fe+ !igarette !rushed
Sun/en e(es& purple s!ars
4ed sheet s!ram,led& old s!ot!h trampled
Sleeping pills& diamond rings&
Wet old pillo+ !ho/ed to tears
la!id purse& flo!/ of !ards
Stardom left
Some overdose pills
Some leftover sins

Another ,ro/en soul on a heavenl( trip
:ife +as a ,attle underneath the luster
And (ou said =0 +as a star?
,onita Bhandari

4ro/en Wings

Withered flo+ers& ,ro/en stems<
1orn leaves& l(ing li/e fallen gems*
0nno!ent trees& no+ fallen dead
A mindless ,attlefield& a forest that ,led*

0 heard them toda(& those terrif(ing sounds
Wre!/ing and felling homes to the ground
1his is .ust the start& 0 hear the animals sa(
1he( +ill !ome& the( +arn us& for (our forest another da(*
0 flit m( +ings and fl( a,ove the !arnage
re!ious life destro(ed ,( a human and ma!hine ,arrage
$o the( not see> $o the( not hear>
1he shrie/s and !ries of m( friends& so dear>
Where are those !hirps& those s+eet melodies>
1hose heartfelt songs and amusing parodies*
7h5 1he fun that +e had& the games that +e pla(ed*
3o+ 0 +ish these memories +ill not fade*
)ade& li/e the forest that 0 see do+n ,elo+&
A lush haven it +as on!e& +here the river did flo+*
"o+ a ,arren& hate filled land
With onl( murderers and thieves& and other su!h !lans*

1he tears +ill not stop& the pain +ill onl( gro+<
)ear in our hearts< +hat ne#t& +ill the( sho+*
1he la+ of the .ungle is dead and gone&
)or the la+ of the man is no+ ,orn*
($mira -han

Aimless

1he veined
$r(
4ro+n leaf&
@nhoo/ed
Suddenl(
)rom a ,are
1ree&
7ff the ,la!/ high+a(&
Wanders off
$ire!tionless&
0n humid air
)ull of e#haust---
:i/e an unemplo(ed
Aouth&
0n formals&
4lan/-e(ed&
Moving around&
Aimless&
Sear!hing hope&
0n the !ro+ded alle(s&
3igh-rises&
7f the lun!h-time

South Mum,ai&
Aet not sure&
@n!ertain&
1entative&
3e---
:i/e the
$rifting
Aello+
:eaf*

---($nil (harma

A 'rand Mother

Wearing the ,ar/ed fa!e& she sear!hes for her e(es
to read her destin( +ritten some+here on the +all
invisi,le from her*

Creates ripples of laughter sans dentures
she is not the one& to mind
li/e a ,an(an tree& she stands tall
to give shelter to ea!h and ever( /ind*

4ran!hes ,ro/en& leaves ,lo+n a+a(
(et happ( is she
as seeds gro+ and transmigrate
into flo+ers and fruit laden trees*

1hough ,e(ond her rea!h no+& far a+a(*
li/e a ,an(an tree& she still stands
+eathering the storms of the time
providing shades to guests to ta/e rest
and to en.o( in her nest from time to time*

Cruel is the time ,ut she has seen the +orst
+ill po+er sustains her mind and soul
not the ,od( though&
no+ lives +ith an#iet( and agon(
time not far off to +ear ne+ !lothes
and to sa( good ,(e to her un!aring progen(*

Soon she +ill also feel the heat li/e that ,an(an tree
from the ,uilders& land mafias
and insensitive ras!als of her o+n
,ulldo2ing the ver( roots of hers
not +aiting for her natural nirvana
onl( to reap the ,enefits*

ri#hawan -a$l
.reelance writer-poet

Wa(s of :ove

$es!ending dar/ness ,reathing do+n the living
Shado+s of silen!e ,e!oming monstrous
"one dares to !hallenge rogue elements
4ree2e of love see/s passage through ever(one-s heart
Wading through the +aves of emotions and a!tions
An aura of tran6uillit( and serenit( lift up spirits
4ringing mu!h need sola!e and !omfort
1r(ing to !ement the path glimmering +ith sunra(s
:eading to ultimate !almness and happiness
Wonderful are the +a(s of love*
ri#hawan -a$l
.reelance writer-poet

After death

Amidst
Whispers of rest in pea!e
vi,rating entire !osmos
a departed soul +at!hing
!uriousl( from the a,ove
a ,od( ,elo+
surrounded ,( +ailing people
mournfull(
spelling out all the +ords
availa,le in praise
staun!h opponents
eulogising +hite deeds
ignoring the ,la!/ ones
+iping !ro!odile tears
and laughing in sleeves
friends& foes and famil(
!ome to remem,er
a departed soul
+hi!h
+ishes to ,e the +hole
,ut for its DA%MAS*
ri#hawan -a$l

1hro+n A+a(

$eath sho+ed up again 1oda(
As he does ever( da(
We .ust don-t noti!e unless he
4reathes do+n our ne!/s
1aps on our shoulder
$an!es ma!a,rel( on our doorstep*

3o+ easil( +e thro+ a+a(
)riendships& relationships&
Commitments& dreams
E#pe!ting them to sta(
As +e !ast them aside
:i/e !lothes dis!arded&
7ut of favor& until +e !hoose
1o return
7nl( to find that
$eath has !ome
And stolen 1omorro+*

/alerie Chisholm-Let"eman

Senses

1here;s no =sound? as s+eet
As a ,a,(;s first t+eet&
1he first time a ,irdie;s +ing flaps&
1he first song !heered +ith !laps*

1here;s no =sight? as good
As a flo+er ,loom in the +ood&
1he ,eginning of a mountain spring&
1he rain,o+ that the sho+ers ,ring*

1here;s no =tou!h? as dear
As mom-s presen!e !omforting n near&
A friends +arm hug +hen life feels drear(&
A loving hand;s !aress +hen (ou are +ear(*

1here;s no ?taste? as deli!ious
As :ove-s first /iss !and( n lus!ious&
1he first fruit on the tree (ou planted&
1he !heers drin/ after a long-a+aited +ish granted*

1here;s no =smell? as pleasant
As Soa/ed earth after a torrent&
assion em,edded in a red rose&
urit( of a ne+l( ,orn held !lose*
/inita ($rana

)riends

Dno!/ Dno!/5 Who;s there>
3ello dear5 Smile is here*
Wel!ome dear5 So ni!e of (ou
Sta( +ith me for a da( or t+o*

0-ve no ri!hes to sho+er on (ou
"o gifts pre!ious to offer (ou*
4ut +ith (ou 0-ll share
M( treasures of love and !are*

A +arm hug to ma/e (ou feel +anted
When ever(one ta/e (ou for granted*
M( e(es shall !apture (our image
1o ,e saved in m( heart for age*

Even if (ou leave some da(
Aour memories +ill find a +a(*
)riends +e;ll ,e& +hether far or near
4e sure& to me (ou;ll al+a(s ,e dear*
/inita ($rana

:ost 0nno!en!e

$ar/ Alle(s leading to dar/er 2ones
)urna!es smo/ing in!essantl(
A trail of meagre sunlight pee/ing in
)rom a s6uare opening atop the ,arred +indo+s
A shrill +histle distur,s the ominous silen!e
A flurr( of a!tivit( !ommen!e
Short fragile ,odies move at lightning speed
1o deliver s!alding hot molten glass
)rom the furna!e to the moulds
1o ,e moulded into stunningl( ,eautiful ,angles&
8er( different from those par!hed fa!es
And no+ !oarse hands and frail lim,s
1hat +or/ da( and night
)or long e#hausting hours sans a ,rea/*
Empt(ing the pans to ,e rushed ,a!/ and refilled
Muffled !ries of pain es!ape from the sealed lips
As a drop or t+o slips on to the ,listered hands and legs
Wor/ing on the moulds to !reate +ith finesse
Shushed into silen!e ,( the ha+/ e(es
)ollo+ing their slightest defle!tion*

0nno!en!e ,eing strangled and suffo!ated to near death
0n the drear( and s!ar( dar/ dungeons
4ereft of even a ,reath of fresh air and light
Slaughter-houses of !hildhood and future !iti2ens
7f this ever-progressive +orld*
/inita ($rana

lease don;t stop the musi!:

silen!e is the ne+est loud
silen!e is o,viousl( loud turned inside out
a multitude of gaping holes
have ,een for!efull( stit!hed
into the fa,ri! of m( minds sanit(
am (et to learn a lesson
am still not e6uipped*

Chined$ ich$

Fragrance
Vol 1 Issue 4 & Volume 2 Issue 1

Managing Editor/Founder: Waseem A Malla, Beerwah J&K

Editorial Staff: 1. Ms Shalini Samuel, Kanya Kumari, TN
2. Dr Sunil Misra, New Delhi
Ira Joel Haber
Editors Message .............................................................. 3
A Dreamy Cottage ............................................................ 5
A Home Built Moving Onward To A New Home To Be Build
......................................................................................... 7
Sun vs Moon ..................................................................... 9
A Memory In Time .......................................................... 10
A Simple Family Abode ................................................... 11
An Untold Story .............................................................. 12
Around the Round Oak Table .......................................... 13
Distant Memory :Ricordo Lontano ................................. 15
Metamorphosis .............................................................. 16
God's Whisper ................................................................ 17
Dream House .................................................................. 18
Highrise Dweller ............................................................. 20
Dream ............................................................................ 22
Invasive .......................................................................... 23
My Dream World ............................................................ 24
Hands ............................................................................. 25
Tsunami of Night ............................................................ 26
On the F Train ................................................................. 27
Smoke ............................................................................ 28
La Vita Sommersa - The Submerged Life ......................... 29
Undress .......................................................................... 31
Editors Message

It is my immense pleasure to present you this issue of
eMagazine Fragrance, poems combined from the
submission calls of our 4
th
& 5
th
issues which we could
not bring out as separate due to some technical hiccups
on our part.
You would be glad to know that Fragrance has
completed one year of successful publication and I, as
the Managing Editor, would like to thank my team of
editors, Ms Shalini Samuel and Dr Sunil Misra for all
their efforts and for investing their time and resources in
this venture.
Our thanks are due to our contributors, for their regular
poetry and photographic submissions, which have kept
us going all along the way. Without your love, support
and trust, Fragrance would have just been an unrealised
dream, gathering dust in some unknown corner of my
mind. Thus, its just you who deserve the credit for all
the progress we have witnessed in the past one year.
Lastly, I dedicate this issue to all our readers who have
been following us on our blog. We are anxiously waiting
for your valuable feedback on this issue. Moreover, stay
tuned as we are bringing out a full volume of all the
poems published in our eMagazine Fragrance, Issues 1
to 5.
Thanks again to every reader and contributor. We hope
you will extend your love and support to us as you have
been doing all along the past days, since the inception of
this eMagazine.

Regards
Waseem A Malla
Managing Editor
Fragrance poetry e-zine
A Dreamy Cottage

By Praveen Gola

Over the Mountains,
A Snowy smoky wintry weather,
Looks like Heaven.

Under the caves,
Birds are chirping chitter-chatter,
sounds like Patter.

Down the hills,
Green lush trees hugging others,
like newly lovers.

Sun is shining,
behind the dark grey clouds,
passing light sunbeam.

Fruits and flowers,
enlightened with shiny silvery ray,
just romantically play.

A small cottage,
inside the lush green garden,
made of bamboos.

Snowy covered roof,
warmth the room with Grate,
with scented fragrance.

Twinkling of bells,
Praying God in deeply thoughts,
A dreamy cottage.

Ira Joel Haber
A Home Built Moving Onward To A New
Home To Be Build

By Roy Mark Corrales

Being born to a humble abode where familial love is
garnered;
the pursuit in development of his or her own being
enriched.
Parental and supporting relatives cherished in making
things realized.
The babe becomes a toddler into a young adolescence
into adulthood reached.

The conflicting problems and everlasting triumphs
unveil;
The nourishment of body and spirit is further enhanced
to reveal
the path of trial and error till reasonable perfection is
unearth;
in furthering spirit makes its collective movement to
reach.

The building of peaceful and admirable familial home
resound;
The echo of yesteryear child now a builder of new
family resonate.
the fulfilment of the grandparents in bringing up their
children now as adult relive;
in order to bring home a bacon of tomorrow rooted in
heart of peaceful abode rekindle.

Sun vs Moon

By Koyel Mitra

The fire ball shines brilliantly,
An aura of scintillating radiance permeates.
It's robust shine glares at me.
I do refute its superciliousness,
The domineering attitude invokes hatred.
I cherish the night star gleaming,
With a splendid smile it gazes at me.
Playind hide and seek with the flocculent clouds,
It waves at me amiably and heartily.
Its lovely, inviting face laughs at me merrily,
Thus soothing and appeasing my frayed nerves.
I wake up every morning with dreamy eyes
That burn brightly to ashes,
Only to rekindle my fancies in the still repose.
A Memory In Time

By Cristy Upshaw

The moonlight shines within my window,
Leaving traces of the night's silhouette,
The slight breeze whispering through my mind,
As I lie here alone in this scented room,
Thoughts of you drift to and fro,
As the day's events unfold within,
My heart races with the smile on your face,
As I touch my lips with my two fingers,
Feeling the traces you left behind,
Of the moment we got lost in time,
A cherished moment to never forget,
A love that, which now is only a memory,
I could never take back the words I said,
Nor would I even if I could,
For you hold the key to the chamber of my heart,
Knowing full well you can come and go as you please,
Time possesses the love that we share,
For it's the only thing that can tell,
When we'll be together once again,
To be lost in each other's realm of longing desires.

A Simple Family Abode

By Roy Mark Corrales

Having an abode where harmony, peace and prosperity
embraced this home.
Today simplicity is indeed a clich what is essentially
necessary versus the luxury of things
what modernity demands in any home today.

Accessibility in every part and parcel in making meal to
be delightful and wonderful for every family home;
members of the family share in every ups and downs in
every aspect of everyones life.

Responsibility and Respect for all persons and other
things as it is created for goodness and prosperity
assimilate in every counter from pantry to the room
which every person is respected for his or her
contribution in the family home.

Dialogue, rapport and shared responsibility prevail in all
aspect in this humble abode. A simple humble
respectable, ample rapport in dialogue levels where
problems are solved in a well discussed and decided for
good of entire family abode.

An Untold Story

By Simran Kaur

Diffusing ethereal radiance of serene
The vastness of azure heaven to preen
An inspiring profusion in air of cryptic
In air of Cryptic?
An untold story it sustains along
That seems perpetual and prolong
Hidden in smoke in mist an untold story
Perhaps, the life's abstract fact
Assumptions are they who lead to its tract
Where many stories began each day
Of our egotism, arrogance and useless fray
A desire to be supreme when kindles
Drifts you back in an obscure brindle
An oblivious assumption against the mightiest power
Known for the destruction and massacre
The mightiest of all the might; the Time
With its very reign every story prime
turns inconsequential and an untold crime.

Around the Round Oak Table

By Joan Leotta

Around the round oak table
Revolves our nightly show.
No matter how fast the daily grind
Over dinner, we take it slow.

No masks at this venue.
Entertainment for all.
Set the table, Pour the water,
Serve the food, Pray!
Lets Eat! Curtains up! Dinnertime!

Equal billing to food and talk
Freely passed round the table

Pasta, salad, meat fill plates as we
dish the days events,
hopes, highs, lows.
a cacophony of topics--
Simpsons Buffy
Death penalty test scores
George Washington and golf!

When plates are empty, hearts are full.
Long after the sweetness of dessert is a memory,
Words continue to be served up in hearty portions

In Elliots rooms the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo
Around the round oak table, love is spokenloudly, and
by all.

Distant Memory :Ricordo Lontano

By Terrence Sykes

Sometimes on late autumn evenings
in the damp early enveloping darkness

plane engines break the sky
crashing waves of interstate roar
trains cry on distant tracks
bringing a cargo of memories
taken back

to that little
Italian village
we made love
while it rained
all afternoon

fragrance of quince drifts even now
through an open window from the grove

Metamorphosis

By Koyel Mitra
Exhuming myself from the remains of
my past, I find nothing but depression
crushing my heart and piercing my soul.

Like a ghoulish dream passed those gloomy days --
an avalanche of sorrow, making tears
roll down my cheeks, drowning my battered soul.

An unbearable emptiness in
my heart, I groped for a ray of light in
my lonely melancholy.

Then a sudden aura of cognizance
surrounded me as I read through the book
"Kathamrita", enlightening my mind.

I was startled at the transformation
of my soul that turned a
new leaf, making me sprightly and cheerful.

Now, armed with true knowledge, and
spiritually purified,
I fail to recognize
my once dismal self.
God's Whisper

By Cristy Upshaw
Surrounded by the night
a shimmer of light revivified
a gasp of midairrespires
the manifestation of purity
Lamenting for Gods whisper
that brushes the tearseffortlessly
from the indulgent cheeks
of an isolated, angelic ambiance
Blanketing the heart's core
In the epicentre of a misplaced soul
the warming of divine incidence
encasing lifewith HIS immense love

Dream House

By Tribhawan Kaul

Dream house, dream house
Housing my home,
Where

Narrow lanes lead to wider roads
Chinaar and poplar in frontal rows
beckon me just to roam.

Blowing of conch shells
waking up with temple bells
morning azaan also soothing the souls.

Casting spell, a chirruping sparrow
leaves follow breeze across window
majestic view of majestic dome.

Lovely children playing with granny
story telling becomes so much funny
carved balcony is left to adore.

Basking under rising sun
warmth of heart spread to every one
relations of ours never sour.

Cacophony of celebrations, fascinating
hallmark of jubilations, reverberating.
gupp Bacch/Bhand* & Henze# galore

River flowing down the bridge
breathtaking view over the ridge
music to ears with shikaras** abound

The house of my dreams
Evolving in thoughts
If wishes be horses
Could have ridden by now
Fate ordained it to remain a dream
But dream I must
For impetus it gives and the thrust
To pursue.

Dream house, dream house
housing my home,
where
narrow lanes lead to wider roads
chinaar and poplar in frontal rows
beckon me just to roam.

Tribhawan Kaul
Highrise Dweller

By Tribhawan Kaul

Mornings and evenings witness
commoners of different hues
caste, creed, colour & age
jog, walk, yoga or meditate
groups of female folks assert also
with warlike maneuvers
learning the tricks of karate & judo
and the joggers park
shines in the form of oasis
amidst the concrete desert.

Giving eyes a treat, towering residents
wowing the architectural marvels around
but devoid of health concerns
keeping their windows open
simply to crane and watch
the images of dwarfed movers below
pondering upon advice of health gurus
yet thinking it a total waste
being on high pedestal, boasting
they arent missing anything?

Introspection brings them down
to feel and experience
the smell of freshness
the chirping and tweets
the sound of breeze
the rush of blood
the rustle of leaves
the peace of mind
the romance with nature of different kind
new awakening dawns.

Surrounded by faceless concrete high-rise
the lush green park
rejoices
watching homo-sapiens
respecting its existence
for their own existence.

Tribhawan Kaul
Dream

By Ndaba Sibanda

I dream of a better village
That will not fall victim
To abject poverty again
Because leaders could
Not care less

I dream of a better city
That will overcome the ills
Of unemployment and corruption
A city whose resources will not
Be looted and vandalized by outsiders
Because of politics of prejudice and malice
Please let there be lights again in that royal city

l dream of a country whose name will never be The
Ruins
A country whose all citizens will be treated with respect
and love

Invasive

By Cristy Upshaw

Faceless reality percolating
Through the cracks of futility
Waves of trivialityeternally
carpets the sorrow of what existed

Traipsing paths collide aimlessly
weaving a soul'sicy breath
Sunbeam derives tardily
exposing truth's web of lies

Weeds of past eventstreads
upon the shadows of blossoms
Forming doubt of primed growth
in a once flawless garden

My Dream World

By Koyel Mitra
I miss now the coos of the doves perching on olive
branches,
Happiness has eluded me but I am chasing it like a
mirage,
Oh where are the soft chirpings of the birds at dawn?
Have they been effaced out in this chaotic world, a world
of commotion?

Oh do I see blood there is that my hallucination?
No, it is not, I see mutilated bodies soaked in blood
everywhere.
Did I ever hear the word called humanity?
How can human beings murder their brothers without
hesitation?

Is there no mercy, sympathy or compassion in this
world?
Dont their hands tremble or hearts palpitate while
committing such crimes?
Where has love vanished? Does it exist only in
gratification of carnal pleasures?
I truly seek the evergreen love and celestial bliss in my
dream world.

Hands

By Steve Klepetar

He came to her with hands of rain,
translucent offer glittering
in noonday sun. Head bowed he came,
hair scraping his forehead, eyes dim
with the pleasure of her windy face.
Her hands flutter aimless as swans
who feel a restless winds cool beckoning.
She shows him her heels, plows fingers
through the air, swimmer reaching
out for some far shore, where sea
maids cry raw-throated songs and gulls
plunge along the fiery edge of fallen light.

Tsunami of Night

By Steve Klepetar

Birds were silent and disappeared.
All morning darkness
gathered, rolled in clouds like knuckled
fists. Leafing trees shuddered
into blackness,
window lights blinked on and children cried
for bottles and clamored for sleep.

Outside a blanket on the world, plague
of physical dark, substance viscous
and gloomy, mist or fog
distilled obscurity, cheerless and sad.
Concealment as the heavy
breathe in our lungs, hidden and unknown.

Sirens wailed, smoke and ash in the backwoods.
Has it come to this, a tsunami of night?
Where Is your radiant hand, your brilliant
necklace of lights? What has extinguished your blazing
eye?

On the F Train

By Steve Klepetar

Acrobats vain leap
across the aisle of this crowded train.

Pitch and roll, a rudder
broken
loose and a rough
mutt howling in flurrying

snow, Lexington
and Fifty-ninth
street three days before
wild grapes flush with wine:

an image of a man
on his knees, dice
knocking
against brick, and black spots

swirling from the cup, leaping
bludgeoned with awe into the frozen world.

Smoke

By Shruti Goswami

The deep throated kiss,
Tasted of half burnt cigarette,
And some smoky feeling,
Just like old days,
When the smell of half burnt coal,
Smelt delicious to the nose,
Harbinger of good food,
Now just some distant dream.
I buried myself more deep
Into the kiss,
Immersed in a sensuous flow,
The world of smoke and cream.

La Vita Sommersa - The Submerged Life

By Terrence Sykes

un piccolo grande amore
thats all it was suppose to be
a summer love
a mere vacation fling

old enough to know better
young enough not to care
that little pensione
with paper thin walls

coming so far
to settle or resurrect
a score
of years ago

kneeling in this little
chiesa on no tourist map
praying while his memory
preys upon me

searching
scouring my soul
until the soles
of my feet ache

evening arises
as once again
my heart submerges
into the venetian lagoon

Lost In Another Country by Terrence Sykes
Undress

By Shruti Goswami

Everyday, you undress me,
In your thoughts,
My traditional mind,
Bordering on conservative;
Detested, protested;
Yet surprisingly; never resisted.
And now,
Everyday, I undress me,
In my thoughts,
For your thoughts,
And undress those thoughts,
Traditional, to be or not to be,
Bordering on insanity.

Fractured by Terrence Sykes

Fragrance Vol1 Merged

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