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.



She talks with me,
she never changes her profile picture,
it is a beautiful picture of a great painter,
and she does not want dancing with the wind,
and locks her profile for someone,
whom she does not know,
yet surprisingly waiting for him.

She talks with me,
I feel a kind of peace and rejoicing,
I know she is a kind young woman with love,
that is so imminent that the dark can feel her heart,
and I am in her charm of word usages,
she is devotee of God, and praises love.

She talks with me,
I want to see her face and her faithful eyes,
but I get no time to ask her favoring me
with her photographic appearance on the site,
as she is impressive to make me live with sweet insights,
as if she is before me, despite her invisibility,
and her words are full of eternal feeling of love
that makes me walk on a celestial journey
like walking with hand in hand on a sea-shore.
It is her beauty, softly dissolved into human love,
and one day I just say her,
-“I want to see your divine face and beauty.”
She immediately replies, as if she is waiting for my request.
-“Really, Yes, I have one picture for you only.”

Moments after, I open my e-mail inbox,
I find a new e-mail, hurriedly I open it,
and I am spell-bound, how graceful sublime beautiful she is!
She is standing amidst flower garden of her parent’s house.
She is a unbound beautiful in the color of the flowers’ matching,
one has to praise her, she is like a woman hermit beauty,
standing with her hands slinging down her shoulders,
body wrapped with a sari, straight and eyes in rose petal dreams,
as if she comes here to cool the world,
and she can modify the wide, up surging rage everywhere,
as if she appears here to make summer weather cool,
with her serenity and beauty of love.
And the greens adores her as a fairy messenger,
to make all of us cool in her kind rejoicing,
and we all become calm, forgetting hatred and war,
as if she holds a conch shell, and blows it to declare
that war has ended, and ill upheavals are to be abandoned,
and she is here to make all things in peace and harmony,
and she only receives roaring uproar of the ocean
and she will not receive any uproar of human wars.

She is in her coldness,
she is rejoicing with her presence,
that is a colorful flowing in this sorrowful earth,
as if she will make all dark stones white,
as if she is singing for love and peace,
as if she is a priest to give peace sermons,
and for this she does not receive any worldly rewards,
as if she is telling to the world—–
it is not time for dancing with enmity,
it is the time for creativity and live fine—-
and she is here to observe and congratulate the earth
for its attempt for human love, dwelling in peace in the mainstream.

I become connoisseur of your divinity and beauty,
and you are the messenger of love and peace upon this earth,
I pray thee, please stay here, and the world needs thy song of love.


Just glance at pain;
Tears melt down in vain;
Solutions vague nerves strain;
Just chant Sri RadhaKrishna’s name;
Calmness prevails and pain drains;
Silence of contentment remains;
Pray every moment for life will never come again.
Editor of Radha Krishna Spiritual Portal

I remember one day
my unknown woman came in my chat box,
when I was writing a poem on love
and post it on my wall,
and directly charged me, saying,
“First define me what love is.”

-“I cannot define,
Why are you hitting me?
I just try to write them,
I am also searching what love is, and
how love engulfs me .”
I say.

-“I am not hitting you,
I want to learn from you,
and you are writing about it.”
She says.

-“I can only say–
love is like an essence of feeling
between the earth and the water,
it is soft being and sacrifice feeling,
lovely like rose, like moonlight decor,
soft, it enters silently in mind, and
comes in many shades of all colors
in the loving zone of fulfillment,
and for love between man and woman,
I think it is like what that is established
in the spirit of love of Shri RadhaKrishna.”
I say.

-“I hear of Shri RadhaKrishna,
I know Hindus do worship them,
and that is all I can say. I am moving
with a mind to seek love to feel its bliss.”
She says.

“In the internet arena, you will find
many love portals, but I think you can
hardly touch the love or feel the love,
as love comes when you capture
the novelty of mind of a man you desire,
and the man, in seeing you, feels the urge
to know you and to relate you in noble
worthier of his love, adored in syllables
of earth’s belonging to the water, plants,
speeches, transcendent breathing, and
finally to feel the line of conformation, “YES”
in your love, and you can feel it, when
both of you perform the sacrifice for love,
in the deliverance of cares, walks,
without misery of faith.
And knowledge of the hope and
sanctified form evolves in the love
you are seeking for so long,
and it will be highest bliss of God’s creation.”
I say.

-“My friend, all histories are not blending
with raptures of love, many people are there
who feel the love as their pathetic receipts,
and the earth is heavily sighed with these souls,
and you will find many inconsistencies
in the war of love, then separation and perseverance
that we are leading to the world of love.
And by this way you will see many
love portals in the human arena with some
human endurance. And thus we live here.”
She says.

“My dear lady friend, I can only say,
I am also searching love since childhood,
only I find the mother’s childhood caring
is the best time in life of one human being,
and thence we travel in quest of love,
and everything stands as uncertain enchants.
The man finds his childhood, and the woman her teens
and we love both the periods in our life cycles.”
I say.

Then only the words I find, “Hmm………”
And she signs off the internet.


-“OH! Trust me in my little heart.”
He writes down on his wall of a social net work.

-“I can keep me calm if you can confirm—
Have you any special one among
all your female contacts? Tell me it first.
I find no male contacts in your friends’ list”
She writes on his wall.

-“Oh! Please come with me
I am longing you,
on whose ideas,
I jump upon your land
where I can show you
I can prove a new job
in your home town, and
can live with you in love.
Trust me, Kanika, I also trust you.”
He writes in reply on his wall.

But she leaves the chat room, fuming.

OH! My damsel and my male hearts,
please come with me and see our old love
between Shri Radha and Shri Krishna.
Then there were fertile meadows,
Shri Krishna went with cowherd there,
and at every tune of His flute,
Shri Radha became restless and in Muses
in the depth of love, and she moves boldly
to meet Him, they did not gather questions of trust,
even if Shri Krishna danced among Gopinis.
And here is the essence of love in secret trust
and Shri Radha does not refrain from love
that matures with His enthroned love.

After two days, I find writings on his wall,
-“Please talk with me,
I have deleted already names
of all female contacts,
and I declare in loud voice in public,
I love you, my dear Kanika,
and just see my account,
I have only one female friend
that is plain, it is you, only you.”

Then she writes on his wall,
-“I do not want to fall in love
with a man who loves another woman.
I cannot go to a tigress’s paws
to snatch out its possessed tiger in love.
I do not bind this man with my love
as I know the wild tigress is gentle,
and I cannot dwell in her hut, My dear David.
I want a free man
who loves me alone,
and I can climb on his chest,
and I can make him cool
when he sees my youthful breasts
and then he feels how lucky he is
to sink his head in my bosom.
I will then feel good and scream
when he pierces my secrets
as if he finds a heavenly wine to drink.
And he will return hastily to me
after the day’s work and
I will feel proud of him as he is mine.
I do not want extra bearings, except love,
I do not want my love decay.
I want a calm sky, a blue horizon.
I always want a fresh man
as he is fresh as I am fresh,
and I love my dream partner
who lives with me with love.
I can bare myself if he prays it to me
and likes to see me, to feel me,
to touch me, to take smell of my skin.
And all he wants to own
my heart’s folds and slops
is my desire of love for him and
I want to carry his love children.
I want to hold and unfold manhood,
it is my dream of my womanhood,
all is for my near and dear one,
through the sun rises and blossom of flowers
in the region of visible and touchable
body domain, and he can look at me
with his eyes in thousand ways
with great mystery of love-making
with its real partaking
in the life’s woods and on its greens.
I want to be a blessed love lady bird
that fits a woman in love with a man
to live in a home of love, only love.
Question of trust lays here, my dear David.”


What a situation…..
My lady-love has gone
I am looking on the vast blue sky
My heart is cut
My dreams are cut
I am surrounded in whitewashed walls,
Except for a hit, “I may come.”

Oh my mind……
My lady-love has gone
I am wounded by the loss
I am not dead
I am like pale plush
I am like a frustrated pilgrim
I am like hindered joke.

Oh my heart…
My lady-love has gone
I am just stepping in
cutting my body and mind
I feel dammed within my walls
I have no walls
I hired them from a social web site

From where I have picked her up
My lady-love has gone
She is now someone’s someone
My lips are pale
My black hair turns white
I make them brown
I want to hide my age’s sorrow

that I have from the cut
My age gap is the source of intense love
Once she wondered and felt proud
to be my darling
She celebrated, this was her love,
She set no heartache
There was only love and adulthood screams.

I am now on one side,
My lady-love has gone
My hands and fingers are forlorn
I am wondering from wall to wall
I murmur within myself
I once think to take pill to kill
Somebody’s someone reminds me

“Do not forget I am always with you.”
Is this false?
Is this true?
I do not know,
I know only the love and the earth
and I have to roam about
and cannot be saboteur

As all lives is God’s grace
I have to honor self
even if my love woman has gone
to be somebody’s someone
I have to honor you
I cannot darken you
I cannot tarnish your new love

God has a plan
He can sign me out of her love
He can make my lady-love happier within
in someone’s grace
I cannot object
Love has the great freedom of choice
I am within this rule.

How I can live….
God knows the best
I can only tenderly bury my wrong love
I can have tears
I can have thumbs down
and to me alone, all cuts can come with grief
and I have to keep a wooden mind with all my cuts.


My lover in the present age
is free from all bindings from me,
she gives me youth and mind’s delight
by the words typed on the keyboard
to feel the touch body and mind
in holy love light,
the warmth of sunny morn bright.

She was once my lover
to feel me fresh and sweet,
met me in the garden of love
where heaviest of sucking of lips
had not removed us from love habits.

Then one day when I am raising
the sense of love from her long covered
garments to find a treasure
to feel an extreme pleasure
one more younger stranger comes near
and holds her hands before I touch her
she immediately said me, ”Forget me.”

To my utter surprise,
I become fading and turn white skinned
as if no blood I have in my arteries,
her tender voice strikes my brain,
“Forgive me.” and in the jolt
I hear no words of regret in her voice.

How beautiful she hovers in my mind till now,
I am shocked as I am not accustomed
to the terror present age errors,
love is somewhat instant episodes
to live with memories on the shore,
I have to leave love and its habit of romance
to live on a blank page of love resort.

What I wished to have love from her before
turns now harder to tear up lover’s love, only tears.


For you, on thinking on whom I feel honor
to have love and full line of beauty she holds
in her spirit and mind, there lies accountability
on love’s treasure and dream, I feel no lie,
you then told me you do not hurt me
whatever you are in your disgraced strife,
I learn to mend me in the line sense and light
that hold the true requirements
and inquiry to make our love divine shine.
Love has some accountability always in mind.

You might hover in some sorrows I do not trace,
the conductance in its ever grown life and beginnings
of meeting the sun over above-board of the line of
tranquility, being living in thousand kilometers
hard toil, hard-earned money you have to live with
and thence I have to work for some sorrow of purity
that makes you wait long in the transition and tranquility,
I know your necessity, that you need to protect your side,
I honor you for your brave way that you find as free glittering
on the sea-shore we once intend to walk hand in hand.

Once we want delicate talking,
once we want leisurely feeling,
in between lies one responsibility
that I call accountability on loved living.