Thursday, May 2, 2019


I held your hand and it was cold,
I felt the warmth when words were told.
right over the river that keeps us apart,
O' old bridge , you have my heart.

You sway with the river when you get old,
You hold the countless stories ,untold ,
You count my steps , you are a piece of art,
when there are  too many , you fall apart

you stand still we come and go,
you are Full metal, from head to toe,
But you have a heart which melts all day,
Wonder , if you get a voice , what will you say.

NP / 2019 , 1 May

Sunday, February 24, 2019

peace : Pulwama and hootch tragedy

When the winter was bitter and cold,
When the roses were being sold,
You added the poison in the ale,
You bombed our soldiers into a tale.

O' man, mortal engines of hate
Stop bloodshed clean the slate,
Why not let the peace remain
Why not build the nations again.
-- Narendra Pant 
   Feb 2019