Asim Kumar Paul at International Poetry Fest, 2011, Guntur, India (Photo-1)

On my way, I am in a waiting room,

New Delhi Railway Station,

I am travelling with valid train tickets,

To attend International Poetry Fest, 2011, Guntur.

I am waiting for my train,

For Vijayawada, then to Guntur, AP, India.

I am waiting for you, honey,

O my distant lady, I want to have

A train journey with you.

I want to tell you that loving intention,

And I gather up whole of my dream

Of beautiful love under one sun.

I am seeing all moving amplitudes of passengers,

Coming here, waiting here, and

Then they go for their scheduled journey.

One young woman comes with her husband

Having two kids below five years of age,

Who walk, run and fall on the floor,

And both are boys,

And she dances with the kids to control them,

And her husband stands by with luggage,

And smiles at the kids’ glittering enthusiasm,

Who are his sound love and care, and

Their mother is youthful, child-like defiance with love.

I love it; I am also feeling pleasure with them.


Another woman comes with her husband,

They are smiling always,  and talking with themselves,

And they sit close by shoulders,

And her husband puts her head on his shoulder,

With his left hand bounding her back of shoulders around,

They are in friendly excitement, charming and darling,

With beauty, and enthrall of love and life.

I love it; it is a life of love and continuity.


One young woman comes with pleasant dresses,

And dances with a kid of her kin, and

She moves with the boy where he goes,

And the entire waiting room is her walking region.

She is a pretty young woman, and

She has a beautiful face and body.

She cannot stay on a chair for a moment,

She likes to sit before young boys,

Who are holding cell phones at their hands.

These young boys make  attempts

To take snaps of her glimpses,

Of her beauty  that is  flickering and moving around.

One boy has tried to take a snap of her,

In his cell phone camera, but he fails,

As she is restless in crowd gathering,

And cannot be snapped separately,

And I find the boy rubs his forehead with his fingers,

As he has not met success to snap photograph of her.

I love it. It is natural for selection, love and time’s wonder.

Note: Picture credit: Poet Dr. Dalip Kumar Khetarpal, and Background lady: poet Dr. Nagasuseela, who is the co-organizer of the poetry fest with poet Dr. P. Gopichand at JKC College, Guntur.



1. Poem on best poem

This poem is for Dr. Biplab Chakraborty.

The stage light floods the daïs, filled to the brim,

And he walks slowly under the light,

His footsteps are prudent dart that moves first,

With significance, a poet walks with younger bones,

And I see him first in green form with glasses,

And he reads his poem in slow but distinct voice,

That keeps me in surprise in his poetic expression,

And when he finishes reading his poem,

I go to him and say,

“Very sensational poem it is!

When you write this poem, dear poet friend?”

He smiles, his eyes gleam with delight, and says,

One night I write this poem, when I am moved

With this feeling of your poem on best poem.”

And then I reply in reverence,

“Yes sir, I keep hearing

From the poetic sheen, thanks.”

Just I feel some human descriptions of love in his poem.

2.  Life and love

This poem is for Dr. Dalip Kumar Khetarpal.

He describes me about life,

In his own way of description of solidarity,

On love and move for love delight,

He is charming in explaining his perception

He is now lonely

He is very defining life’s patters that he experiences,

He thinks life is full of thoughts, that

We enjoy love with full emotion,

And when five senses irk,

We satisfy them with full sensation,

His explanation is many dimensions of love,

It is his beauty to feel the truth of love,

The more I read, the more I feel the flame of his love explanation,

Our lips are mystery,

Our lips utter for holy prayers,

Our lips can kiss on amorous love.

I love it. I love his beauty of love explanation.

3. Her love for poetry

This poem is for Dr. Ketaki Dutta.

O dear, the morning beauty I have seen in you,

As you do speak with confidence about our creation and translation,

Making me connoisseur of your love for poetry,

As if you flow with rates of significance as poetry’s heart,

And I look at your beauty of mind’s image and name.

Today you are not in my imagination,

You emerge as run time reality,

Sitting by me, and you wear a silken sari,

That makes you beautiful like damsel starling,

I feel pleasure when you read your poems,

In emotions, carrying a voice of womanhood clarity,

As if you are in joy that makes you happy with your poems.

I love it, and speak in me about your love for poetry,

And write this poem for you

Returning from International Poetry Fest, 2011, Guntur, India.