Saturno Magazine, Articolo: DEEPIKA SINGH - India

DEEPIKA SINGH - India

Deepika Singh is from Margherita Assam India, qualification- Master of Arts, B.Ed and teacher

by profession. Her writings reflect her personal observations of day to day life. She started her

writing journey from the year 2011.She believes that the right words can change our society.

Some of her poems got featured in The Poet Magazine Womensweb, Changed Forever

Anthology, Atunis galaxy poetry, Poetryzine Magazine, Archer magazine, Too Well Away

Literary Journal,Silk Road International Poetry Festival, The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

etc. Also some of her poems were translated into Spanish, Chinese and Serbian language.For her

work this year she received honour from Yan'an government, China and Gujarat Sahitya

Academy, India.

 

 

 

 

THE QUEST

I’m in my autumn my child,

Your father’s departure made my life hollow.

My heart weeps when I recall him.

Now, I am stacked with responsibilities.

My eyes are craving to see you in a red veil.

My lifelong wish to see,

The vibrant red colour on your forehead.

My child, I searched a lot

But the suitable boy is in a remote, untouched land.

Is it my fault that I gave you birth ?

They tarnish our race.

‘Unity in Diversity’ is confined to papers.

They criticize on your shadowy tone,

Your knowledge is your gem,

And they ridicule it too.

Murky world, disgrace your devotion towards me

A devoted son is an honour,

Then why not a devoted daughter?

I begged at every door,

To search a suitable boy for you,

Sad folks always gave false hope.

Me too wish to nurture my grandchild,

Who will sit on my lap,

And I will wrap her tight.

With her, I will revive my childhood.

I asked to God :

Why a dummy smile people,

Enjoying an ecstatic life.

We have wisdom to be simple,

And thus our hearts are distorted every time.

Waiting for the new dawn,

In every verse there are some,

Unspoken silence.

 

(Answer To Mother)

 

MOSAIC of EMOTIONS

Be good, do good and receive good,

The age old phrase.

In this broken mixed-up world,

Do we always receive fruit?

I am a scapegoat in the hands of time.

I longed to pass marital bliss.

A hand who will hold my hand,

A soul- soothing warm hug and worries disappear.

I pine for his presence.

Me too wish the paradise of motherhood,

That feeling when I will hold you in my arms, my child,

And embrace you in my chest.

I will play with you like a toddler,

Till we burst out with laughter .

Those precious moments when your grandma will sing a lullaby for you.

I am longing to see.

I hate mirror Maa,

Every time it reminds me of single shaming.

The lines on your forehead write the tales of an agonized mind.

I curse myself Maa to see you in pain,

And knowing the reason is me.

I know you are aching to see the luminous red vermillion on my forehead,

Will it fulfill in this birth?

The voyage for a suitable match is just an illusion.

They abandon me to see my worship towards you .

Pity mother with only daughter in the family.

In her declining years should I leave her all alone?

Can a groom do the same?

 

Our society is rooted in orthodox ideology,

Which need to be structured.

 

(Is it so difficult to give her a little space in son -in -

Mettiti in contatto

Fondato da: Francesca Gallello

saturno.magazine@libero.it

(+39) Francesca 3383684998

© 10-2024 Design by Artvision.
All Rights Reserved.