Hs Dimple

POEMS by PROF. HS Dimple (Please ANALYSE my literary work and send feedback at my email [email protected]. Thanks in advance for kind perusal)

A BEAUTEOUS ENTREAT When I gather my courage and look at thee, To lighten the worries and feel free, And with a twain of eyes get a glance To feel the grace, I turn at once Towards the visage where beauty dwells Where smiles dance and the charm swells I feel if I am in the company of Almighty Where all are beautiful and everything is pretty Where eyes talk and the tresses flow And the cynosure is your forehead’s glow Then mind and eye enter a debate and fight To relish the charm is whose right? Eyes want to see and the heart want to win Please satiate both as leaving is a sin I trow your mind will understand my compulsion I am killed by your beauteous impression

MY POEMS My poems will remain for time to come I may die but these will become My voice for those who love life Who want to win peace and rid the strife None of these is writ by me, dear Someone whispered into my ear The verses that ye read as my composing Who? I don’t know, just went on jotting All that He spake for me for I wrote Learn them by heart or by rote As they are true to me and the laity They are everything but coax or gaity They are filled with me head and tail Of earth and heavens where gods trail Can you tell me how should I write To delight you all sans any spite So I end the lyric but not end up As the life is to go on and forever up THY EYES If I could write the poetry of they eyes! Where gods dwell and the grace lies Where arrows come from to kill my being

Where the beauty is for ever never fleeing The eternal flame in this twain is never dimmed Even if fall on temples thy tresses untrimmed The light is there of hope and more The unravish’d beauty in them is a folklore The music of thy beauty must go on For the connoisseurs to relish whenever alone As the Beethovan is not here for ever And the Mona Lisa in thy eyes gives a shiver When Michaelanglo in God gave thou a finish Must have thought not to part with this May I dare have a glance at you once more The company of thy eyes is my wish’s core Maiden Middle Some things, I shall never forget in life. Especially the maidens, I mean the maiden things in my life. My maiden ‘standing first’, maiden ‘best athlete title’, maiden ‘haircut’ all against the wishes of mom and dad, maiden hubby’s kiss and his maiden virgin touch. And of course this MIDDLE, which is going to be the maiden middle, penned by me and published in the envious middle space of the editorial page, obviously, if it sees the light of the day, I mean you read it. I was in the school when I was frequently abdomished by my mom for being so dull. I promised my mom to hit the jackpot and be a winner. I worked hard, crammed all by heart and Lo and behold, come 31st March (then it was a fixed date), the head teacher announced my name in her Himesh Reshmyya type nasal tone, “Dimple is the topper”, and I could not believe it. Nor my friends, my peers, my gang members, my boyfriend or mom. It was a dream, a dream coming true, and my joy knew no bounds, then. I was crowned, awarded, kissed, embraced and lifted. That day is as fresh in my mind, as if it were just YESTERDAY. Yes, yesterday! And then the first Best Athlete title. I remember those long heavy crunching hours, in the morning, when on pressure from my beauteous mom and forceful dad, I would enter the ground and run and run and run. The D-day came and I ran my way to the Best Athlete trophy. Eyes of boys followed me and my long flowing tresses (loosely done braid) hanging behind back touching my buttocks. How can I forget my maiden haircut, too. I had just joinded the college, when my lengthy tresses became the target of attack, the butt, the favourite subject for the girls to tease me. Ultimately, I decided to get my precious possession, scissored off! I untied my hair, the salon girl sprinkled some water on my tresses, looked at my scaring face, gave a smile and asked, “How long mam?” No long, do it short, I retorted back. “I mean, how long be kept?” “No, just cut it. I know nothing more.” She opered a colourful book of beauties with haircuts, stylishly. I was shocked. I will be like these. So bold. And I never looked back or behind. Why to? I had no braid hanging backside to look at. Now it’s a routine. Like Bipasha, I too got my hair snipped and got short hair, which I longed for long. The POWER of words Words are power. Like money, beauty and knowledge, words also act as the

weapons which help a person rule the roost, nay world. In today’s world of social interaction, knowledge explosion, and split second communication, the power is commanded bot by those who possess artillery, but the vocabulary, and skill of its usage. The slogan ‘conquer the word to conquer the world’ is coined by one, who knew best the power of words. No wonmder, all the great wordsmiths of the world were well aware of the intensity and density of the meaningful semantic structures. Otherwise wonders like John Keats, John Milton and John Donne had same 26 letters, as you or me have. However, we the lesser mortals have to consult lexicons or Thesaurus to fit a round peg in round hole and square in square. Even then sometimes we face a piquant situation to fail to dot our I or cross our x. But the men and women of letters are alwars penny wise and pound wisest, esp in terms of wit, humour, syntax and semantics. Words are a bliss for humanity. They give us a chance to give vent to our feelings, emotions and fears and pleasures. If silence is silver, speech is gold and the words act as Midas, whose magic touch creates genis out of mortal eartheran lamps. Word wizards like William Shakespeare, Wordsworth and Jones created literary masterpieces, as they have been canny enough to make perfect use of permutations and combinations of various alphabets. The magical power of words is known well to leaders, actors, orators, teachers and the speakers, who make both ends meet by dent fo their oily or lolly polly tongues. Every word spoken by Amitab Bachchan matters and drsaws one 1000 rupees out of the organized of a fete or function, at which he is called, every word pronounced by ABV creates a hole in the stomach of ruling alliance. Every word spoken by Aish in a film earns her Mullah, kudos and a never-ending list of admirers. And every word written in this essay begs your attention. I keep my fingers crossed. BY HOOK OR BY LOOK Look or the outlook is more significant than anything else in today’s seesaw world, in which the ‘dare and bare’ philosophy rules the roost. Vanity and hypocrisy have made our tragic world full of ‘comedy of manners’, in which the difference amid a rich and a poor lissome can be made not from the quantity of the wardrobe, covering their flesh, but by the brand name. Other wise, it is either a too-much kissed Malaiaka Sherawat can’t be differentiated from a street beggar on any basis as both wear a strip around the breast and a underwear, nay outerwear! The smooch rule the minds and the beauty is not a milimeter deeper than skin. The term beauty is often read in context of the colour and the complexion of the person in consideration. But the million dollar question is: Is the beauty just limited to the outer or external being of a persona? Few know that the beauty is much more than the exterior. Rather it is in sense of quality. The wise men aver that a beauteous person is he who has something which the others lack and strive to have that. If the fair complexion has been the sole criteria of beauty the all oriental people would have been winsome and the blacks, the ugly ones. But this is not the case. If the litmus test of the beauty like Miss Universe and the Miss world contest results of the last decade are any indication, the black lissome are (hold your breath!) comparatively prettier and smarter. The seductive smile of Karaina Kapur, elephantine gait of Bipaasha Baasu, serpentine tresses of Ameesha Patel

and chameleonine haircuts of Preity Zinta are too tempting to ignore. The beauty is a harmonious mix-up of mind and heart. The face, according to Shakespeare, is at third place. John Keats, the world famous bard too sees “more beauty inside” than on the visage. He has in his oft-quoted ‘Ode on Grecian Urn’ stressed, “the truth is beauty, and beauty truth, ye know on Earth, all ye need to know” He emphasizes that the external beauty is short-lived but the internal beauty is permanent. For him, “the heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter.” Every girl can’t be Aishwayra-perfect. A goody-goody face allures one and all. But what worth is the beauty of Helen, whose beauteous visage was responsible for the calumnious battle of Troy. The beauty f tens of thousands of girls becomes their for when they are dragged out of their homes, by the pimps to force them to be whores or the strumpets. Or to be forced to tie nuptial knot with the money bags. Phew! Was not Socrates a disfigured thinker and Maharaja Ranjeet Singh as ugly emperor, but the imprints left by them on the sands of time are too good to faded. The inimitable Shabana Azmi or melody queen are too not too eye-sweet ones, but ht performance of both on screen and the crooning field is unparalleled. So the day the man understands the real beauty the days of evil doers would turn numbered. And let us keep our fingers crossed! Amen!! BEAUTY IS NOT SKIN-DEEP The term beauty is often read in context of the colour and the complexion of the person in consideration. But the million dollar question is: Is the beauty just limited to the outer or external being of a persona? Few know that the beauty is much more than the exterior. Rather it is in sense of quality. The wise men aver that a beauteous person is he who has something which the others lack and strive to have that. If the fair complexion has been the sole criteria of beauty the all oriental people would have been winsome and the blacks, the ugly ones. But this is not the case. If the litmus test of the beauty like Miss Universe and the Miss world contest results of the last decade are any indication, the black lissome are (hold your breath!) comparatively prettier and smarter. The beauty is a harmonious mix-up of mind and heart. The face, according to Shakespeare, is at third place. John Keats, the world famous bard too sees “more beauty inside” than on the visage. He has in his oft-quoted ‘Ode on Grecian Urn’ stressed, “the truth is beauty, and beauty truth, ye know on Earth, all ye need to know” He emphasizes that the external beauty is short-lived but the internal beauty is permanent. For him, “the heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter.” A goody-goody face allures one and all. However, what is the worth of the beauty of Helen, whose beauteous visage was responsible for the calumnious battle of Troy. The beauty of tens of thousands of girls becomes their curse, when they are dragged out of their homes, by the pimps to force

them to be whores or the strumpets. Or to be forced to tie nuptial knot with the money bags. Phew! Was not Socrates a disfigured thinker and Maharaja Ranjeet Singh as ugly emperor, but the imprints left by them on the sands of time are too good to fade. The inimitable Shabana Azmi or melody queen are too not too eye-sweet ones, but the performances of both on screen and in the crooning field is unparalleled. To get the long and short of the whole debate, we wait for the day, when the man understands the real beauty, and the days of evil doers turn numbered. And let us keep our fingers crossed! Amen!!