BOOK WORM
You get fascinated with books, my child ?
I bought you all kinds of toys,
Airplanes, cars, boats,
But you ignore them
And play with my books, pens and pencils.
You turn the pages and seem to be enjoying my books
That I hate even to look into.
I wish we could exchange our roles.
You can read my books that you enjoy
While I play with your toys.
Poetry? Poems? What's that? What language is it? In this world of internet; I-phone, and the fast paced life, surely Poetry seems like a foreign language. It had to squeeze in the busiest month (tax month) for all Americans. Yet we all love it. For some reasons it could not become a part of life. Like a fragrance of its own Poetry could not keep up with the changing world; although those who love it try to make it a part of internet; of u-tube;… because like music it is very much part of your life. Sometime back every magazine or Sunday newspaper had a page dedicated to poetry. Yet, for some reasons it can't keep up with the changing world.
When I was a child I didn't like studying, but then there was poetry. Slowly it started sinking into me. It taught me a lot. I started loving it. Of course being an Indian my favorite was Rabindra Nath Tagore, the first Nobel Prize winner for literature from India; Sarojini Naidu, Bhai Vir Singh, Amrita Pritam. Then there was William Wordsworth, Oliver Goldsmith, Robert Frost, and others. My day would start with a prayer. In every word I started loving poetry. There was National Anthem of India written by Rabindranath Tagore as the "Morning Song of India."
Sometime back my daughter was doing a project for her school- "School of the future." She said there should be body scanners probably because of the shootings. Sadly, if you leave poetry, music and arts behind, we see senseless violence and purposeless life. I immediately pulled out my favorite book "Gitanjali" and read her my favorite poem by Rabindranath Tagore:
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high
Where knowledge is free
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments
By narrow domestic walls
Where words come out from the depth of truth
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way
Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit
Where the mind is led forward by thee
Into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.
Rabindranath Tagore
I would always look forward to listening poetry and reading poetry during April. My neighborhood library would do Poetry competition during April. I also loved the anthology they printed of local poets. It didn't matter whether I win or lose. I recently called them and they said they are not doing it this year.
DEFINITION
It is the family that makes you love,
Love makes you enjoy life.
Happiness colors each moment.
Commitment makes you rise to begin again.
To pull on...
On and on for those who love you,
For those who care for you.
"Blessings come in bundles,"
Treasures that God puts in your arms;
Your children to care and to love.
What is the meaning of life
If there is no happiness ?
If your family is out to hurt you ?
To abuse your innocense ?
God, why did I live long ?
...But happiness can change it.
Make you struggle in life.
Overcome the obstacles
And begin again; again and again,
To face the world anew.
Family does not hurt family,
Family cares for each other.
Family loves each other.
Family shares the grief
And rejoices in happiness.
For years I did not write much. I would always get discouraged from the rejections I was receiving when I sent my poems to be considered for printing. Some 15 years back my love of writing seem to take shape. I started a small magazine that reaches mostly Indian community. It is titled "India-USA -Connecting Communities" Beside the article we have printed poetry. My goal was not only to print my work but also to encourage those who write poetry. It is distributed through Indian grocery stores and other gathering places in the Greater Seattle area. It is available through King County Library, Washington State Library, Whatcom County Library, and others. It is an effort to join communities. I am looking for literature and other arts people to join me in my endeavor.
After it was featured in the Poet's Market; I sometime receive some poems. Yet I often feel how far I am from achieving my goal? Sometime I feel sad. I wish I had pursued my goal and become a doctor. But I chose to be a poet. (Please note at this time we charge postage and handling. We usually charge $4 for shorter poems and little more for longer. If you send you your poem for printing please include $4 per poem (for U.S.A.) and $6 per poem for outside USA. We will print 1 poem per issue. You can send 3-5 poems. We will send you a copy when your poem is printed. Email: [email protected] if you have any question)
NIGHT
Aren't we both similar,
You and I, O night ?
-Ugly, dark, nude and pure.
When you are born out of the tired
And dying day,
So am I.
When bathed in the nudity of darkness,
O night,
The sky makes you rich with stars
And the soft illumination of moon;
So am I, in the nudity of love,
Adorned with the lips of my beloved.
I sip the nectar deep in the coolness and
Silence of you, O night,
And you sprinkle pearls from the eternal pool
To shower on us.
When you are crowned in golden crest of the dawn,
So am I, O night,
With the crown of love's sweet words.
As the birds sing you farewell,
So do I hear the murmurs of my love,
In whispers, chanting my ears.
We are born together, O night,
And we part together.
Fill your life with poetry and literature. Check out the local library. Sometime they have poetry competitions and poetry reading. Some even have free critique groups.
Bhai Vir Singh ji, Gurbux Singh Preelari and Rabindra Nath Tagore lived around the same time. Bhai Vir Singh ji's work was well recognized within the Sikhs and Indians. Rabindra Nath Tagore translated his work in English. It got nominated for the Nobel Prize for literature which he received in 1913. I am bringing this up because I believe we do have wonderful writers and poets amongst us. They need encouragement and recognition. I will not be surprised if one of the Sikhs does go to win the Nobel Prize.
Move On !
Life is full of good memories
And bad memories.
Move on ! Move On ! Move on !
We cherish our good memories
And are scared of even touching our wounds,
Why get hurt ? Move on !
I am overjoyed !
I am overflowing with love !
Forget the past. Don't worry about the future.
Live in the present. Live for now.
Move on ! Move on ! Move on !
O life, leave good footprints.
Let people remember you with love when you leave.
Do good. Love others. Leave good memories behind.
Why hurt ? Why bother ? Move on !
Hold on to happiness, forget the sorrow.
Love everyone and remember God.
Move on ! Move on ! Move on !
India is a land of music and poetry. Sikhs are blessed because the wonderful poetry that Guru ji has given us. With little interest in poetry, I think Sikhs can excel. Poetry is a gift of God. It is part of a prayer. Of course some think it to be a useless thing that goes above their heads. They may be jealous of you to possess this gift. Read, write and enjoy. Often I see people watching movies or Indian series. If you ask them they will say that they are "passing" or "killing time". Life is lot worth more. Guru ji blesses you with every breath. Honor living. Get a good book and read it. I encourage you to write and be a part of the literary groups. We have it in our blood. Gurbani is set in music and verse. If I can encourage you to write, I will think I have accomplished my mission.
PEACE
Today the world is so close together.
The news travels so fast,
I know more about you and the world around me
I have traveled miles to be part of this country.
What am I looking for;
Peace, Love, and Friendship.
Peace in this world and
Peace within myself.
Alas! As much as I know you
We are all tattered apart.
War drums sound at a distance
We are all being driven into fragments.
Life is so fragile
And it is being destructive.
For God's sake,
Let us all join each other
In Friendship. In Love. And in Peace.
CHOICE
Be immortal.
Be full of live and spread happiness.
Be helpful, be loving, be kind.
You can make a difference!
You have a choice.
You can bring joy,
Or you can hurt and ruin.
Life springs only once.
You get the opportunity only once.
You can't love for long.
You can't hurt for long.
You must leave someday.
Be immortal.
Let people remember you after you are gone.
Choice is yours.
Family does not hurt family,
Family cares for each other.
Family loves each other.
Family shares the grief
And rejoices in happiness.
Sarab Singh is the Editor of India-USA Magazine "Connecting Communities" a quarterly Punjabi English Magazine published from Kent, WA USA. The magazine is distributed free in the Greater Seattle area. The yearly subscription is $20 which usually covers postage. The magazine is available through King County Library System, Washington State Library, Whatcom County Library and others. Please request your local library to subscribe to the magazine so that we can reach more community. Please email me at [email protected] if I could be of any help. Thank you.
