Result of Poetry Competition Fourth Edition
Category: English

Title: Life - A Parabola of Enchantment

Life is a parabola of joyous enchantment

You spin it and it rebounds in merriment

Deciphering monumental exuberance in its core

Scouting diligently into instances of galore.


Life is infused with infinite excitement

Percolating morality from sinful indictment

Traversing high and low wrapped in dreams

Bountifully revitalising for a rise to the supreme.


Life is an envelope of prolific exhilaration

Snorkeling aspirations into realistic ambition

Unearthing the riddle concealed within it

Intensifying the enormous ardour dwelling in it.


Life is a storehouse of passions and desires

Plunging deep inside into its circle of fancies

Engrossing the heart and mind in its melancholy

Proliferating dreams into monumental glory.


Life is a plethora of elation and enthusiasm

Bouncing and blooming into its charming blossom

Drenching the soul within an enigmatic aura

Hypnotizing oneself into its appealing flora.


Life is a gift of God, the Almighty of this Universe

Nourishing every single bit to keep it illustrious

Enriching the marvel camouflaged by its gracious dignity

Refining and polishing the colossal creativity.


Life is a stage of dramatic vivacity

Embellishing with its warmth and generosity

Comforting the core with kindliness and geniality

Adoring and nurturing to the divine eternity.


Kuntala Bhattacharya

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More details are here

 Title:  A Yearning Recapitulation....

Growing life with time gradually obtains its ageing frailties.

But yet from the confined sepulchre of mind,

Arouse memories of my pleasant childhood,

With buffeting nostalgia and sequestered feelings.


Though the faculty of my mind is tarnished with the subtle time,

The past recapitulation overwhelms me with its ineffability and takes it's own patronizing toll,

Reminding me of my beguiling days that stir my languid soul.

It was a time when life seemed to have a portmanteau of passionate dreams with unleashed boyish thoughts galore.


My faltering senses now garner delight from selcouth memories.

With such heartfelt remembrance every rumpled image of my innocent childhood unfolds,

From some orhpic and unfathomable diaries..

The bygone vistas and scenes all engulf me in tears..


Pure enchantments once sparked the joy in my heart.

And those childish shrieks and squeals still echo,

Those were all far off from the devouring greed and conceit,

Far off from the pinioned power and raging foe.


All of my yore now drifts into a bewildering oblivion,

The weary way wears a woeful raiment of kenopsia,

That once trailed the sylvan beauty 

and now remains my repository of nostalgia.

Let me now have a silent concord with my sentiments and emotions.


An individual with a mere credence in hope survives,

And embers of his profound anticipation burn desperately in his life.

And so are mine, with a longing hope.

To travel once again back through the chasms of time.

Runner up

Md Mukarram Shaikh

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More details are here

Top 10 Poets (inclusive of winners)



When the men of the clan could not find her

They rushed to look around the fortress

Only to realize that she had escaped 

The sounds of the wedding clarinet

That summons a bride to nuptials.

The desert went astir in the winds

As steps marched looking for her

Only to find her at the temple near the shrine.

The men surround the temple 

In a wish to turn it into a scaffold,

And her ektara into her swan song.

Thus sang Meera,


O Men brutal of the cannibal class

You kill the lovers of your fries

Sycophants of the curst deserts

Sanguivorous is the way of your lives.

He was bred of the villages of gregarious herders

The muses of whom consorted the ineffable him.

His corporal make is what you would gut

When you gut and bleed the ephemeral him.

I'm but an infiltrate, dispossessed of myself

The germinates of his sapling

Creep inside my body, clamber through my limbs

And clutch on to my soul, altogether. 

My soul, half mine, half his

And what I have mine also his. 

His skin, which you shame like the dusk

Is the burnished charm of the singing Sun.

The dulcet notes of the flute that he plays,

Airs the hearts of the ears that it preys;

When you kill his seeds of affectation

You disembark my limbs, void my brains

And thus stop his flutes from airing me.


When the herder did pipe into me his flutes

My Lord planted his seed of love inside me.

The seed sprouted to birth my novel spirit. 

This spirit pulsates my humora

Seasonless the musk of this love.

This spirit inside me belongs to the seas.

This spirit inside me belongs to the peaks.

This spirit inside me belongs to the saints.

This spirit inside me belongs to the Prophet.

This spirit inside me is but that of my herder,

His shrine is what I've worn all over

His nectar is what I've been drenched in.

And when you thus break his corpus

You but gluttonize my eyes with evermore of him

The flower of an unknown forest

The aster of an unknown cosmos.


Bring down your daggers, batter this body.

Drag out the viscera, feed them to hounds.

But this shrine shall live, 

So shall live Meera's love for her herder,

And so shall live the spirit of the Lord,

The seas, the mountains, the saints, the Prophet.

In loving was Meera frenzied, in loving must Meera die!

For she learnt loyalty in the herder's name.

She learnt piety in the herder's name.

And she sought in her herder's name- 

The treasures of the gems of love.


Poet: Kunal Roy

Title: Everything;  Everything

The undulating waves of her ocean,

lashed on the shores of her mind;

The ravages of his stabbing words,

left reminiscing scars behind.


He caressed the moon in his hands,

every time he cradled her face;

the strength she drew from his love,

made her even sin with grace.


Such was the hurricane in their souls,

it rose like a phoenix from the ashes;

But the unforgiving cold of outer chaos,

brought back nightmares in flashes.

He harboured a kind of fire in him,

that burned brighter than the one around;

While she kept his fire blazing bright,

searing enough to take cities down.


So, together, they were an entire pack-

a pack of wolves to be feared;

A force of love to be reckoned with,

and impossible to be smeared.


But not everything we love lasts forever-

words that no longer sounded cliched;

As destiny played its manipulating tricks,

and the invincible ended up separated.


Today, her pen bleeds stories of their love,

while she silently waits by the window seal;

mocking how everything that she tried to forget,

are things that she wants still, always will.


No amount of aging time is enough,

for souls to forget their first awakening;

the warmth, the comfort, the strength, the love,

they remember it all - everything; everything.

Poet: Daya Atreya

Title: The Bright Red Pearls

The wondrous mirage beckoned to the avaricious crowns
Bewitching their heedless minds with a specious prospect
Of procuring the treasure trove, every renowned fool’s gold.
And thus, the ambitious ones began their condemned quest.

In a futile effort to acquire the possession,
The secreted wealth of the tumultuous ocean,
Raging thunders ensued in the battle of reigns.
The derided mankind wielded the heinous hurricane.

All this while, those adorning the abyssal depth,
The very pretext that sprung the whole chaos onto our earth,
Those beautiful glistening white pearls blossomed,
Merrymaking safely from their impregnable sanctum.

While the mundane relics stockpiled on the nether turf,
The red downpour amassed over the shells’ dirt.
Seeping through the cracks the sins stained the shimmers
And thus born into the world, were the bright red pearls. 

Poet: G Sahana

Title: Disparting from path of the sceptical pasts

Disparting from path of the sceptical pasts,

Where my miserability sepulchres, 

Tangled in disbelief of loved one's lies, 

Tattered and torn apart by wicked antecedents,

I no more belong to the family fled unethical persecutions.

Hereby, I profess prophecy!

My lover and I amalgamates, 

Together we confine our habitation,

We prosper, we embrace, we fortify.

Ne'er these walls witness wrongful happenings, 

Erupting tempers would be eased, 

Along soft spoken prose, 

Marble flooring free from rageous dints,

Of shattered cowardly ceramics.

Our ardent abode lightening with 

warmth and comfort,

The pair of us sharing sanative serenity,

Of mind and soul entwined in empathy, 

We shall heal in order to raise a heir, 

Who needn't mending for normalcy of life, 

Rousing along angelic spirits, 

We commemorate chanting gratitude, 

Towards another day we euphorically endured. 

Poet: Shrestha Sen

Title: Deathly Living

The world is heading towards extinction.

Seems too wrong to predict.

Just mankind is in question!

Not at all the animal kingdom.

They’re living as real as other days.

No restrictions, no fear, no worries.

Only the rational animal ‘HUMAN’ has it all.

Renders a question “ Why living in deadly fear?”

Are humans not ‘rational’ so as called?


Our conscience walks across bare foot.

To live and lead solely for our own.

No solace, even empathy for our own root.

Diving into the deep ocean of self-indulgence

We happen to nosedive into the orb of commotions.

Now any avarice would save our neck!

As all and sundry is asking to the deathly living.

Better we should ask our Mother Nature.

How did she feel when we tormented her fervour?


Mother Nature will ne’er swathe her with a veil of ignorance.

As she’s ne’er been a disguise like humans.

Super Nature shows its temper tantrum dance.

Not to bear the brunt of our transgressions.

Nevertheless to array our souls to redefine.

All upon us now to freak out to the forewarning.

Or else we must be up for facing the music.

As it is tuned by the death blow of life as in.....

................‘Deathly Living’.

Poet: Snigdha Nath

Title: Dear younger self

Your eyes shine like the Suns first ray,

Glimmering amidst a well of tears, I wonder what the bucket will fetch today.

I won’t judge, you are safe, I will love you anyway!

Diluting my dark, you make it a manageable grey.


I know my body isn’t a good home to you,

It aches, it is fragile,

It feeds itself vile.

I know my mind self-sabotages,

It distorts the memories once held in delicate vases.

A catastrophe, surely not worthwhile, and for that I remind;

“Feel free to leave, I won’t hold you in exile.”




You wipe the windows inside my head,

Dust the mattress, dress the bed.

You travel to my dreams to tell me it will get better,

That one day, the soldiers will rest and the war shall settle.

Settle like the sand, smoothed over by tides,

and that one fine day, I shall wake up to see light.


I hope my heart is warm for you to reside,

I hope it shelters you from the storm but I will be outside.

I will stand in the rain, let it wash me away

Drench me, engulf me, till I feel clean again.


I have no one to grieve over but you,

I have put you through everything I have known myself.

Though I feel sorry, you do not need to forgive me;

Dear younger self.


Rain drops sting like icicles and daggers,

Every hit stabs me with another one of those memories, leaving me staggered.

As I remember the damage I have done;

I suppose the clouds are not the only ones,

Pouring pieces of themselves until they dissolve, desperately waiting for the sun.

Poet: Saara Parijaat


Pardon her for being mediocre

For not being the ethereal creature, you so longed for

But just an amorphous mass, disappointing

Of flesh and bones knitted so intricate

Oh!She was all alone.


Pardon her for that ineffable speech

That plethora of emotions you claim a cacophony

Not sweet words flowing like delicate wool

But indeed, it was, a mesmerising symphony in disguise

Oh!She was all alone.


Pardon her for being a naïve creature

An illicit being living in exile

Who believed mere words Oh! So idyllic

Putting her needs after her ‘friends’

Ended up exclaiming “You too Brutus?’’

Oh!She was all alone.


Pardon her for this body

That creation you insist so repulsive

Those critical stares judging her garments

That you’ve already ripped off with your eyes and mind.

Oh!She was all alone.


And then she heard silence

Embraced him as a confidant.

He showed her the home inside her-her universe

And she found herself tangled

The web of expectations all around her weigh her down.

And he untangled that mess and whispered

“We aren’t living in this universe

This universe be us.”

Poet: Tesa Rose Sunny

Title: Talking Of Literature

When you talk and bicker about,

With cold ice or tempestuous fire,

Shall the earth breathe its last out,

You are talking of Literature.


When you ride upon the firebolt,

And zoom through the grounds of Hogwarts,

And against the death eaters do revolt,

You are talking of Literature.


When you bend and pass through,

The gracious bows of the birches,

And deduce the cause of the charming debut,

You are talking of Literature.


When you blaspheme the holy sky,

And curse the bleak winter winds,

Their sole folly- them being dry,

You are talking of literature.


When you empathise with animals,

Birds and dolphins and badgers,

Rabits and mice and humped camels,

You are talking of Literature.


When you suffer from jealousy green eyed,

Or not sleep one wink, but Jove's lightning,

And see a blinking idiot or death's head,

You are talking of Literature.


When you solve mysteries sans bound,

And delve deep through magnifying glasses,

And brave the Baskervilles' hound,

You are talking of Literature.


When you adorn yourself with blue bead,

Or trod the hills with blue umbrella,

And plant in your lawns a cherry seed,

You are talking of Literature.


When you exaggerate or qualify your deeds,

Or rummage for emotions from a cold heart;

You are sowing in the abyss of heart, seeds,

Because you are talking of Literature.

Poet: Vaibhav Sachan

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