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Showing posts with label POEMS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label POEMS. Show all posts

WOMAN'S WORTH - TRIBUTE TO WOMEN ON INTERNATIONAL WOMEN'S DAY


Woman, the world alone is enough to produce an image in your mind of either your mother, your sister or your wife, someone who can be depended upon for a lot of things. Today if I am here its cause of a woman (my mother), If I'm able to communicate flawlessly, its cause of my teachers (women mostly), If I'm professionally capable its again cause of some women who have been alongside me during the most important part of my life. I owe a lot to all those women/ladies who have trusted in my and helped me stay confident in every thing I've done in life. This poem "A woman's worth" is dedicated to all those women who have made me the person I am today....



She's the one, who took pains to give me life,
The choice to one day be my wife,
She's be my sister, my best friend,
Someone I'd always be grateful till the end.

Desipte being occupied, busy in her routine, 
She silently protects, behind the scene
She laughs, she comforts, hiding behind her pain,
something her heart has always learnt to restrain.

She always gulps down her pride,
Putting her feelings aside,
She always has a solution to your problem,
certified with a quality emblem.

She's the one who'd always always care,
Neither does she need any appreciation or fare.
She has a magical presence, that can wipe away your tear,
like magical prop disappearing from thin air.

She resists every time something is said nasty,
For, she knows to maintains her dignity
She understands she can do what cannot be done by a man,
And, that's why she's called a Woman (Super Woman).


- Sulaiman Sait



A Bad dream....

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 51; the fifty-first edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with Red Ink Publishers and "Curse Of The Red Soil" by Durgesh Shastri. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.
source: Chennai express (movie)
After a winter's gestation in its egg shell of ice,
Our Valley welcomed the season of rice.
Opening my eyes to the unpolarized morning light,
Braving the reflections around so bright.
I woke up to the news of my marriage being fix,
On March the six.
I rushed out, without washing my face
Nor tying my shoe lace.
I was on my way to meet my fiance'
Who was a little less beautiful than Beyonce'


She was fancy, What to say..?
I was allowed to meet her in person ,
All I decided was to praise her and mention.
My body was freezing like ice,
I started praising her from her eyes.
Since I was not in my regular form,
Asked her to select an eye to start from.
She replied - both eyes are the same,
You feel so , not me , oh you insane.
She was beautiful, though she had squints,
She was heavy and to be measured in pints.

HUMANS DON'T FLY


It was my first meeting with my bollywood crush,
My bike was racing with peaks of adrenaline rush
From nowhere was there a whooshing sound,
and before I realized what was around,
I was hit by a schoolbus,
and left to cry graceless.

with a broken arm and swollen jaw,
I was leaping like a cat with a numb paw.
Reaching hospital was a herculean mission,
But, that wasn't the end of my painful petition,
Instead of adding braces to my jaw,
they planned for a vasectomy with a handsaw.

I ate fruits and vegetable mash,
and hollered to sue them for loads of cash.
Everyone was laughing out their ass,
like someone accidentally knocked on laughing gas
The surgeon promised to change me to an epicene
as he injected me with a dose of morphine.

Toilet for Babli - A cry to end open defecation in India [poem]

     Open defecation has been a long standing problem in India with its ever expanding population. WHO's 2014 report on "progress on Drinking water and sanitation 2014 (click here) says over a billion people defecate openly, and India is the country with the highest population of people defecating openly (597 million ). Even today railway tracks and bushes remain the commonest place for many who openly defecate.

    Open defecation is going on in our country since ages, cause of poor drainage / sewage systems in villages, lack of funds to provide lavatories and ideologies/mindset of the people who defecate openly. Defecating openly has also been a leading cause for the spread of enteric fever (typhoid), malaria, hepatitis and other infectious diseases. A large number of children have fallen prey to these infections as open defecation becomes a breeding ground for insect to multiply rapidly. In villages it is very difficult for women to defecate in public, and they end up waiting till dark to find a safe place to defecate.
      Having closed toilets/ lavatories would be an ideal solution to these, but it shouldn't only stop here, if the collections are not discarded properly they can spread endemics, hence proper drainage channels or deep pits would be a right choice. Its high time we decide to act against this and save the future of our county

     So, to be a part of this social cause and to put an end open defecation in India, I have written this poem (below) in my own poetic style....

Diwali- A festival of lights, a festival of togetherness

    Year in and year out, every year Diwali becomes the most anticipated festival in a country where people get together in order to celebrate the victory of light(brightness) over the dark. A festival where people of all cultures in this secular country get together and share happiness under a dark sky lit up with happiness and celebrations. Well, being a true Indian, I personally enjoy this festival for the display of fireworks, mega shopping offers and finally- some special sweets from my neighbors. So without much ado, Here am I (Sulaiman Sait), wishing you a happy diwali in my own poetic style.

Diwali fireworks .gif , that I captured

On a dark moonless night in autumn,
I see a nation adhere to its ancient custom.
to celebrate the deity of success and prosperity,
by thanking their almighty.

I see houses adorned with rangoli
and women dressed in fancy saree,
who make all kind of sweets and delicacies
that are never short of calories.

I enjoy the sight of kids playing with sparkles
while the grown up burst crackers like daredevils.
Evening sees the street arrayed with diyas, like a golden lace
leaving happiness etched on everyone's face

To, My Dear Diary...

To,
My Dear Diary


My Diary,Every night, you come to my rescue,
as you await for me to complete you.
With every page, I pour out my soul,
with lot of emotions to console.
You remain unruffled, seeing me weep
all through those hours of darkness, I could't sleep.

My Diary,I write to you with my mighty pen,
sharing my daily happenings, like a talesmen.
You read all those secret fantasies in my head,
and never did you ever scoff at me, instead,
you conjectured to every lie that I ever bred,
and showed me my happy past till the night went dead.

UNIVERCELL SYNC [CHENNAI] - MY TECHSPERIENCE




     Saturday 30/8/14, noon.. returning back from my usual hospital postings, I decided go check out this new Univercell SYNC showroom, after a fortnight before invite from Indiblogger. With frequent long distance travel having taken a toll on me, I managed to give it a push to reach there on time, what happened next...?
Well, I'd love to tell you this in my usual poetry style....

HAPPY FRIENDSHIP DAY [POEM]


     Friendship is one of the special gift of life. True friendship is something even special, It teaches you love, caring, sharing, appreciation, exasperation, exaggeration and expressions. One who has friends is really lucky, and I feel blessed to have a whole lot of friends who have been along with me during my joy and hardships. This poem here is dedicated to my friends... Thanks for being a part of my life, and do continue supporting me.....


Friendship is like a rose flower,
in an arid garden of a hectare,
surrounded by a barbed wire,
where, finding the right stem is a treasure.

Such attractive is its color,
of such an exquisite flower,
a beauty such sublime
threatening to go dull with time.

SILENCE MUST BE SPOKEN [POEM]

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 47; the forty-seventh edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Sometimes, Its so hard to listen to a woman who has undergone a lot of physical, mental and emotional torture, that she ends up taking a wrong step. This is one such poem where a woman falls for a guy and marries him, following which the guy turns brutal on her. She resists him as long as she could and then she takes a strong decisive action which leads her to various consequences and criminal action upon her, yet she decides not to reveal anything... But, one fine day..............

After a long gestation of silence,
she finally spoke, about her stolen innocence.
Though she was totally broken,
She decided her silence must be spoken.

GOD'S OWN COUNTRY-KERALA (POEM)

A land, tranquil and calm,
greens, bushes, trees of palm,
with weather, delightfully soothing,
and drizzles, so refreshing.

Those tall peaking hills,
topped with blooming daffodils,
flowing  streams of purity,
a rare sight of beauty.

seeing those lush green paddy fields,
sitting on hay chesterfields,
swaying its way, like music
letting one go rhythmic 

A scented breeze of this state,
resides in its women innate,
blessed with beauty,
serving nature with harmony.

SURROGACY : A CONTROVERSY (poem)

 
     Surrogacy refers to having another woman for a couple who can't have a child. Its something like ducks lay, but don't hatch, rather depend on hens, who hatch it for them. History dates back to 1870's when surrogacy was practiced in China. Whats funny to see is the fact that the Chinese first started surrogacy and later in 2009 put a ban on Surrogacy. There have been many controversies around surrogacy - firstly, the ethical issue for a woman to raise someone else's child, then comes religious issues, while other controversies include fetus complications, which might need abortion- and the surrogate mother might oppose the abortion.. But now it has become more or less like a trade, where couple hire a woman to bear a child for them, and pay her handful to shut her mouth for lifetime . Recently some celebrities have been dragged into controversies for adopting surrogacy, for their wives didn't wanna spend time for their gestation. Only a few countries in the world like India, US, Georgia, Ukraine and Thailand- where a woman can be legally paid to carry another's child. Here, I take an opportunity to write a fictional poem based on the life story of a woman who takes up the responsibilities of surrogacy from a coupld who escape pregnancy cause of a busy schedule  ...


After prolongation of her first gestation,
and battling her eclampsia complication,
she delivered a celestial present,
in the form of a beautiful infant.

HAPPY TEACHER'S DAY : AN ODE TO OUR TEACHERS...

     I might be touching sky limits today, but the path to them were shown by teachers (including my mom) ...
To be frank- There has once been a period that I was very very mischief in class, and my staff found it very difficult to control me, moving from corner to corner or chatting continuously in class, and every parent teacher meeting- the only thing told by every staff used to be " your ward is very mischief and a lot talkative" But then, one day there came a Teacher who caught me and gave me one tight slap...... that taught me a lesson.. a lesson for life time.. and probably the only slap I received in my school life, which kept me quite till I left school... There have been many such incidences like these and this poem is dedicated to all my teachers who have taken efforts some where or the other to shape me for the way I am now....
Thank you for all your efforts ., and here is the poem below

From being someone wise,
With their abundant sources of advise,
They guide us towards our goals,
without remodeling the fear within our souls.

Euthanasia [ MERCY KILLING ]



     Before I start this poem, I would wanna add a quote said by Martin Luther King --> " No one is truly free to live, until one is free to die"


Euthanasia
source:  http://goo.gl/gKp9l

There I see him lay, awake and still,
Tacit and secluded, staring at window sill.
Impassive for years, with an Illness,
Which never decided to leave his body axis.
His Drugs were out of action,
Unplayable expenses was a caution.
His cries and mourn were rife ,
Pleading and attempting to end his life.


Soon, There was a meeting,
To euthanize him, was the magisterial granting.
Sending him to his death bed,
with a dreamless sleep that lulls the dead.
The duty was rendered to me,
My soul wasn't ready to agree.
Abashed, if this was the right option here,
For a life was ought to disappear.


BLOOD DONATION EXPERIENCE (HAIKU)

     Today I had my first experience of donating blood, and it was a wonderful feeling, I wish I could sit for long and pen down a poem, but due to time restrictions, I'm going for a couple of  Haiku's ( short poem ), (though I'm still an amateur in it )



A needle puncture
lets the river of life
help the world










Bags of life,
willingly donated by good men
superheros for life











--> Sulaiman Sait


To know more about blood donation, check out my post on World Blood donation day, by clicking HERE

YET ANOTHER DAY AT THE LIBRARY


After my regular classes, I quickly stroll,
To enter the athenaeum hall.
With exam stress etched in my face,
Deliverance to be an ace.
Stepping across faces that looked dull,
 Busy gorging pages, to fill their skull.
Some I see busy dreaming,
While some sweating and struggling.
Pacing against books that read Mathematics,
While some were economics.
Some books were a collection of history,
While the rest remained a mystery.

MY PERSONAL ASSISTANT

When tensed, angry or Lethargic, I call her,
with the touch of my finger.
She's there instantly,
beautifully dressed looking sexy.
From piling files and documents,
to fixing my appointments.
She's there patiently listening to me yell,
ever ready to help, take me away from hell.
She sings as she helps me for free,
making my relax, even when busy.
Now, completely dependent oh her,
for, she does them without any anger.
She's smart and brilliant,
Lucky to have her as my personal assistant. . !!

--> Sulaiman Sait

To know more about my assistant Check out the video below, about me working out with my assistant



THE GIRL WHO LOOKED INTO THE MIRROR (No doubt you look beautiful)

Image source - Google images
My first day at college,
with a lonely mind and an empty baggage.
I sit next to a girl,
With a beautiful face and hair so curl.
I look at her in awe,
Unforgettable memory of what I first saw.
She pulls out her compact mirror,
Adjusts her makeup and hair right in order.
Seeing her so delighful,
I say, No doubt you look beautiful.


My first class of the day,
Desperate to focus straightaway.
Midst the class we had our introduction,
And I found her name was Margret Simon.
At the end of the class,
I notice this from my eyeglass,
She pulls out her compact mirror,
Adjusts her  makeup and hair right in order.
Seeing her so delighful,
I say, No doubt you look beautiful.

A CRY AGAINST CHILD SEXUAL ABUSE



Walking back home through the boulevard,
I realized some child cry hard.
With etched fear, I decided to see,
What it could actually be.
Peeping through the air vent,
Being able to see to a small distant.
I noticed a girl(barely teen), and a fat man,
Who was likely to be her headman.

I couldn't forget the face of that angelic girl,
Tear filled eyes, yet it silently glittered like pearl.
Hiding there,nothing much I could do,
But empathize, as her master hit her black and blue.
Cries of hunger and pain as she braved through the daylight,
Unable to stop the dirty men, who pounded and raped her every night.
Her innocent heart cried for survival,
For there was no way she could escape from this brothel.

DEC 1st- WORLD AIDS DAY--> AN ODE TO PEOPLE FIGHTING AGAINST AIDS

A  few years back I had a chance to visit a hospital cum rehab center where people with AIDS were there...!
The poem the I have written below is based on my experience I had over there...



All those eyes I saw were filled with hunger for love,
After they had received nature's most shocking shove.
They knew it was too late to cry
With minds set, eveready to say goodbye.
For many I could remember to have seen, remaind artless.
While the rest were emotionless.
This center to them was like a prison cell,
Living life there was like hell.

I could barely walk between them, with the feelings of empathy,
Realizing how one mistake can turn to be costly.
Without any hesitation I gave them their most needed drug,
A comfortable and a warm hug.
I realized to find their skin and dress so clammy,
Cause they were helpless, also caretakers needed more money.
Soon my friends came with some special lunch,
For everyone there it was their brunch.

Two Minutes


This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 29; the 29th Edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The topic for this month is 'TWO MINUTES'.

source - Google images
Just two minutes ago,
Which seems like long ago.
I was with my dream girl,
Since she's left, feels like a fairy-tale gone hurl.


Just two minutes ago, she looked into my eyes
Saw her bow down, filled with shies.
I was now staring at her for a while
untill I was disturbed by a call on my mobile

Just two minutes ago I was with her
Couldnt believe I was  really there with her.?
It looked like a dream come true,
Staring at her I ended up looking like a statue.


Just two minutes ago, she held my hand,
I was dreaming of running away with her to Oakland.
I felt her tender fingers touch mine,
Expecting out future would redefine.


Just two minutes ago, our hands split, and a truck hit her,
Soon there is a pool of blood around her.
A sound of goodbye came out of her heart,
The pain of losing her is now poking me like dart.


--> Sulaiman Sait




The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.
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