Hey folks! Sorry for not showing up for this long as I was out of town for a small vacay. I know this is a poetry blog yet today I am here to seek a small favour from you all. You can consider it as a random act of kindness. This post is about my school friend Neelam Suthar. She is a profound Painter whose paintings can revitalize any ordinary wall. While her husband, Mr. Prakash Suthar, is an astounding Interior Designer all the way from Bombay who has a proclivity to add a high definition to any room, be it a residence or a hotel or an office. Unfortunaltely, both the smashing artists along with their two little kids are suffering from financial crisis since last four years as their talent is hardly paying them back enough to earn a living. We all know it very well that as an artist, how tough it is to fight for a sustainable existence in a metro city like Bombay. The two artists are hardly able to meet their family’s basic needs. So, its a humble plea to all my fellow writers here on wordpress to share this post as much as you can so that my schoolmate can get some target clients willing to hire her spouse for interior desining or buy her paintings. I am hereby attaching their websites and other contact details so that you all can catch a glimpse at their spectacular work and help them out as much as you can. A small effort of yours could be of a great help to the duo. Thank u all for reading. Contact details follows as under:
Name: Prakash Suthar
Designation: Principal Designer (PSDesign)
Address: 602, Ashok apt.
Old nagardas rd.
Mumbai – 400 069
Tel.: +91-22 32542246
Fax: +91-22 28398140
Mobile: +91 98205 74569
Name: Neelam Suthar
Specialization: Figure, abstract, spray
painting, modern art (oil and
acrylic both) and sketching.
Address: Same as above
Mobile: +91 73038 90551
*P.S. :- The paintings attached here with this post are a few samples of Neelam’s art work. As she has no website of her own, you can directly contact her to see more of her paintings.
Maa, the only individual in this cosmos whose love is altruistic. Those who longs for her understands her worth better. One such lad is Dheeraj who lost her mother when he was a teenager.
We all must have heard that “A mother can replace every relationship that exists. Be it a father, a guardian, a sister, a brother, uncle, aunt, or even a friend. But nobody in this entire universe can be her replacement.” I met this lad on social media 4 years back for the first time. I felt that yearning in his words and conducts. A yearning for mother’s love, her scolds, her tutelage, her concern, her control on life.
Dheeraj have a tender heart and a sensitive soul. Its because of his genuity, he found that warmth, that mother in me. We have never met even once in the past 4 years, yet he says that he had wept in my laps in the most bluest nights of his life. I’m not his biological mother who brought him in this world but when he said this, it meant huge for me.
The following post is his dedication to that mother he saw in me. So the copyright of this piece of writing goes solely to Dheeraj. God bless u my son. Njoy reading. Share, like and comment. 🙏
वो ही तो है मेरे दिल का सहारा
मेरे मन का सहारा वो ही तो है।
मेरे दर्द पे मरहम वो ही तो है
मेरे दिल का सुकून मेरी माँ ही तो है
वो मेरी माँ ही तो है।
कबसे तरसा हुँ में जिसको
वो मेरी माँ ही तो है।
प्यार है जिसका सबसे बढ़कर
वो मेरी माँ ही तो है।
जान है जिसकी मेरे अंदर
बस वो मेरी माँ ही तो है।
फिकर है मेरी सबसे ज्यादा
बस वो मेरी माँ ही तो है।
कद्र है जिसको मेरे मन की
फिक्र है मेरे भावी जीवन की,
वो बस मेरी माँ है, माँ है, माँ ही तो है।।।
© Dheeraj Kuntal
This post is an Elegy to lament for a Banyan tree that used to thrive on a buzy lane of my native city when I was too young. Alas! It does not exist there anymore due to obscured reasons. Stay tuned! Keep reading and leave your comments on this. They are precious to me. 🙏🙏
At birth, was bred as an epiphyte
Reared with dignity; nay parasite,
Attained a size massive and big
Globally known as Strangler Fig.
In the course of torrid dog days
The ferocious sun has its blaze,
By a buzy lane of my native wen
It thrived to shelter fried up men.
Heavenwards were its aerial roots
While underneath were its shoots,
Incessant expansion from its sole
Perfectly tapifies the eternal soul.
An insignia of the planet material
A reflector of that world spiritual,
Planet material; a shade of reality
The shade sans any substantiality.
Hindus had their sets of believes
Lord krishna lounge on its leaves,
A blest tree to worship for wifies
For longevity n welfare of hubbies.
Fig of endurance one can’t envision
Alas! Now that fig was out of vision,
Rationale was but a blind prediction
Pollution, Polpulation or Cremation.
There was a phase bygone when I perceived myself in the ilk of lowers,
But planting my soul in wordpress.com today I earned 100+ followers.
Thanks a tonn to every soul writer pursuing his/her dreams on this platform,
Its indeed a huge trigger for me to learn from you all and tweak to reform.
A leaf earns different hues of green during as well as post existence which epitomizes the sundry hues of a quintessential living. This post is a depiction of the quintessential life of a leaf. Enjoy reading…keep blogging… Please do like, share and comment.
Leaf when dawn is hex green
A colour of innovation, vision
With a shade of gratification.
Leaf when teen is shamrock green
A colour of thriving, tranquility
With a shade of gaiety.
Leaf when mature is ivy green
A colour of endurance, sanity
With a shade of sagacity.
Leaf when perish is yellow
A colour of flair, knowledge
With a shade of homage.
This post is the second sequel of my poem “Beauty in Trash”. By now the trash in my neighbouring plot is completely covered with a garden of lush green vegetation. And now there’s a new entry of a dynamic persona amongst those weeds i.e. The Painted Lady (a butterfly). Its four colourful wings are a token of four pillars of life viz. Liberty, self-determination, intelligence and understanding. The life span of a butterfly is barely 12 months which it leads with vibrant colours. Similarly, we; the human beings owns a very uncertain life. So, we too need to fill it with the colours of high spirits and self-confidence. Happy reading. Like, share n comment. Stay tuned.
In that vicinal bed of verdure
Weeds with spirits of ardour,
Greeting so dynamic a fresher
With a big gusto and pleasure.
A persona so vague and shady
Très tempting; the painted lady.
An awestruck impact to persist
Masterpiece of The Ideal Artist.
The pterons acts as anti blues
With several most brilliant hues.
Wings aren’t just wings to soar
They do hold a token in all four
Of Liberty and of determination
Plus of brains and of perception.
The lady with a life of tiny term
A term brimful of tints to affirm.
Alike is the life of a living soul
Brief to be achromic the whole.
So do live it entirely at its best
Fill in the tints of aplomb n zest.
No prelude needed for this Epigram. Happy reading!
Weoclans in that wild blue yonder
Bearing gallons n gallons of water
Impelled me to stay back n wonder
They’re still so light to be a floater!
Unlike them; we the earthly critters
Bearing a loads n loads of grudges
Stuffing our hearts with filthy litters
So, sinking deep down the sludges.