P. Vijayalakshmi Pandit

My Mother’s Hands

Those sacred hands,
Brought up me,
With tender care and
Unconditional love.
Those hands Consoled me,
Wiping my tears,
When I was a child
And afraid of unknown.
They are the hands,
Hold my small hand
And made me put my
First step on the ground.
Those are the hands
Guided my little hand
To write “A” “ Aaa”on my
First slate first time.
They are the hands,
Of my first Guru; my mother;
Made me spell the
First word of love “Amma”.
They are the hands that fed me with love
And patience narrating amusing stories.
They are the hands
Hug me when I matured,
And educated me, the
Way I built my character.
Those are the hands,
Blessed us in my marriage,
And helped us, to build our sweet home.
They are the hands,
That nurtured my children,
With great love and care;
The un tired holy hands .
They are none other than
The divine hands of God;
That created as mother’s hands
To take care of his progeny.
© Author
(Published in Kafla Intercontinental - Summer 2015) 



Nature's Treat

The pleasant
Chirping sounds of
The birds on the trees,
The musical melody of
The water falls
Rolling down
The rocky hills,
The soothing touch of
The cool wind
Drenched with fragrance,
The alluring
Attractive scene of the
Sprawling green meadows
Studded with
Colorful blooms,
The beckoning blue sky
On the horizon are
The nature's treat
To my senses.
© Author

(Published in Kafla Intercontinental - Jan-April 2013)

Let Me Soar High

Let me sour high
As soul's radiance
Into the space
Darting through galaxy
Speedier than rays of light.
Locked up
In the cage of body,
Listening to lamentations
Noticing villainy,
Wearied and dispirited
‘My soul
Is rocketing
Towards abode of tranquility
Far away from this world
To saunter peacefully
In the Infinite.

Clamour all around
Explosion of bombs
Unfettered wielding of knives
Ravaged bodies-
What fate has befallen!
Hunger miens of beggars
Squalid, ill health, inequality.

I cannot forbear any more
Loud cries of infants
With sunken belly
As no milk to drink
Female babes-
Commodities for sale in the fair.

I cannot see any more
Tearful eyes of teenage girls
Unfortunate lot sold out
To satisfy lust
Of aged husbands.
Mother’s love and affection
Bartered for money,
Fall of human values
Reached its apogee.
Hence now and then
In throes leaves my soul
This material world-
Replenished with
Peace, love, strength and sanctity
Of that spiritual realm,
Returns to this world
The soul to its cage of body
As harbinger of peace.
If every soul
Longs for mercy, compassion
Peace and sanctity
Will not humanity blossom,
And will not this world
Excel Heaven!

(English Translation from Telugu ‘Egasiponi nannu’ by G. Ramakrishna Rao)

(Published in Kafla Intercontinental - Jan-April 2014)