Tejasvi Saxena’s poetry are about life

POETRY COLUMN

POETRY EDITOR ANANYA S GUHA’S COMMENTS

Tejasvi Saxena’s poetry are about life, the social and the philosophical. He attempts rhyme in his poetry which works out effectively. He  has been published widely.

ABOUT TEJASVI SAXENA

Tejasvi Saxena is a bilingual poet and writer, thinker and a photography enthusiast from New Delhi, India. His areas of interest include Art, Culture, Nature, Music, Spirituality, Sociology, Books and Writing. His poetry has been published or is forthcoming in Muse India, Visual Verse, Duane’s PoeTree, Indian Periodical, Dissident Voice, Tuck Magazine, Spillwords, Scarlet Leaf Review, Random Poem Tree and Peeking Cat Poetry.

Anatomy Of A Rickshaw-Wallah’s Dream 

“On bustling routes of old Calcutta,

In dallying reverie of autumnal dusk

I met a rickshaw wallah discerned from folks;

Who meanders in search of bourgeoisie masters

A gaunt face of aged life

A gleaming vision in ancient eyes

He chatters with swiftness of a gay child

& often wears a grin wide

He lapses in musings

His musings on life

While fancying in harlotry of bygone times

For his, were few dreams & a life to hone;

Afar, floating in recesses of ocean

They rise with tides’ nocturnal swings

& brim on brink of undercurrents

The flimsy frivolities of tenderness,

To live on side of an ocean’s bay

Entangling his experienced fingers

In a tangled mesh of a fisher’s net

And ferrying an oar of perseverance;

He wished to sing rhapsodies of Majhi (a fisherman)

While sailing a boat against buffets of wind;

The trail of imageries droops,

As drops of elixir from a reminiscent tongue

The betel stained teeth of his

Often are shown & gaps in between

Defy his mourn

Of living in urban ghettos

Of a paunch that groans

Of sighs belittling his nomadism

Of identities he’s reasserted with

Of glances of condescension he’s cast upon

He pulls his rickshaw on crowded lanes

Carrying shadows of counterpart

Who haggle for few coins with him

Unacquainted with promises veiled in heart

I reckon the flight of flaying dreams

Carrying behind his tattered rag

As too precious to be sold;

In market of dreams that

eyes behold.”

Hope

“Old leaves make the way for new ones To drape the foliage with satin glimmer… For that is freshening their soul, To withstand the withering days of autumn…

Hope reflects in hues of leaf With every flowing season. For hope is the base of nature.. that shines as innocence in a  child’s eyes!

It flutters the heart of a poet, to vent out his angst for an unjust world; Or, to let the ink flow on a rumpled, pale page to evoke his love…

Hope is the ink of a man’s dreams.. That illustrates his dallying imagery, And it is the fragrance of a lotus bud; that blooms with the touch of its Creator.”

Pristine Vulgarity

“The pristine vulgarity of life

Which flows through each moment

In whims of a harlot

In angst of an unjust life

Through inner eyes of civilization

Or, in simplicity of savagery;

Camouflaged by sensibilities

And too timid for vulnerabilities…

The savage man wanders

In nakedness of purity

Draping chivalry on his fragile frame

Exhibiting his truth in its purest sense

For, he could be a Buddha or Mohammad per se;

Who found their truth within their imperfections

Far beyond from realms of sophistry

From clannish collections of mortal world

Savagery could be immortal

Blindfolded to cold gaze of civility

For he who is vulgar, can find his truth;

As it is pristine vulgarity, that flows through each moment.”

Floral Epiphanies

“On walking down a narrow path

In misty drape of dawn;

A shadow stoops downright low,

To sense the fallen corpse

Crestfallen florals lying in peace

That scent the gust of floating breeze

He bowers in awe of the sombre life

And exclaims;

“ O beauteous shreds of soulful nomads!

Descending on trodden routes

Man tramples upon anything

That lose the poignancy

Fly in skies, or hang or weep

Or wait for paths that blissfully sweep,

Your soul in aimless ways. . .

As the world and life may set you free

Once you are buried in layers.”

Ananya S Guha

Ananya S Guha

Ananya S Guha works in the Indira Gandhi National Open University, Shillong (Meghalaya) as an Academic Administrator. He has over 30 years of teaching and administrative experience. He has six collections of poetry and his forms have been published world wide. Some of his poems are due to appear soon in an Anthology of Indian Poetry in English to be published by Harper Collins.