My Meow Mooos

ତଥାପି

Amaresh Swain — Mon, 14 Nov 2011 22:06:03 +0000

ବାସ ଏମିତି ହି ହୁଏ,
ତମେ କୁହ
ମୁଁ କହେ
ଆଉ ପୁଣି କିଛି କଥା
ଚୁପ ହୋଇ ଯାଏ।ଗୋଟେ ଖାଲି ଛୋଟ ହସ
ଆସି ପୁଣି ଚାଲିଯାଏ,
ଆଉ ତୁମେ ବସ
ମୁଁ ବସେ
କିଛି କଥା ଆଖିର
କିଛି କଥା ସ୍ମୃତିର
ଆଉ ଏମିତି ଏମିତି
କିଛି କଥା ପବନରେ ମିଶି,
ବାଧ୍ୟକରେ ଚୁପ ରହିବାକୁ
ଆଉ କହିବାକୁ କିଛି କଥା
ଇସାରା ରେ ଆଖି ଠାରି
ଆଉ ଚୁପ ଚୁପ ହସି।

Filed under: Ink The Psyche, poetry Tagged: ଅମରେଶ, ଓଡିଆ, କବିତା

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Amaresh Swain — Wed, 17 Aug 2011 14:40:25 +0000

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Filed under: Ink The Psyche

Of Kings And Merciless Time!

Amaresh Swain — Thu, 23 Jun 2011 19:49:03 +0000

Of the hands

That once grew flowers in a desert,

Of the hands that created living characters,

In that silent play

Of the generation more human,

Yet more ruthless,

Of the kings who lost their first battle

And of the princess,

Who lost her pearl necklace,

The time shall linger one bright day.

Those hands, old and sinful,

As they touched the sand,

And built a Taj Mahal,

That made them memorable,

For each flower they nourished,

There spread some light, to sky,

And for each sweat drop they hide,

Created one ocean,

Even bigger than their pride,

Of those characters, they never knew,

And their fate had already written,

Already been haunted by those sinful hands,

Was more than just a joy for them to act,

Was just to make,

Those unbearable silent songs pleasant.

Those kings were no different,

Not worthy for a praise,

In those storms of sand and still,

Those shining swords they raise,

Lost a battle and lost their countrymen,

As they screamed “off with his head”,

Still they won,

With their swords still raised,

As all those old paintings,

Reminded her of the necklace,

The bliss that out matches all her wealth,

Every time she gets a glance,

And that old lady still dresses

As a princess for her king,

Every time she gets a chance.

For all those humans who were dead,

With deformed humanity,

And of blood, not so red,

For everything,

Those were lost on their way,

This merciless time, shall linger one bright day.

Filed under: Ink The Psyche, poetry Tagged: Ink The Psyche, literature, Philosophy, poetry, Rajat Pradhan, sparta, Taj Mahal

Wish you the same…

Amaresh Swain — Tue, 26 Apr 2011 07:52:57 +0000

When the things move far

And persons get closer,

I call it sickness.

It’s when your silence talks

And I have no language to translate,

When I have the dream so blind,

I can taste and feel.

I can listen and smell,

But can’t see you in my dream.

I die for living.

I cry for laughing.

And I scream.

It’s when I can understand what you feel

And I don’t react

Because I don’t know how to,

I can’t connect them with my thoughts.

I am confused

Like a school boy in the candy shop.

I am forgetful

Like the old man who had a hundred replicas of his key.

Life seems to be a labyrinthine maze.

A transparent fear, in the darkness, I chase.

…so candid; my life had been YES or NO.

A lot many things happening in life

For the first time,

Or have a last time show.

So perplexed the logics

That seeds my mind,

The graph, the trend or the decision tree,

All are disconnected, all are loop free.

The bell and the bouquet,

The flowers and diamond,

The persons to wish and the relatives to embrace,

I am imprecated,

But I pretend

To match your grace.

You leave and live,

I am here.

If I am true to myself, I am puzzled.

And Yes, I have some fear.

But believe me, wherever you will be: far or near,

You’ll always be so dear

To my smiles and to my tear.

N.B.
The thoughts are now

So much in synch,

When you come across this poem,

You will say

“Wish you the same”;

I know.

Filed under: Ink The Psyche, poetry, Quote Tagged: Ink The Psyche, life, literature, love, Philosophy, poetry

Being Myself!

Amaresh Swain — Fri, 15 Apr 2011 07:36:55 +0000

Who cast an imprecation at me,

The time changed at the hit of the night;

So meretricious it appeared,

I followed it sans questions;

And when I found

The right, The Wrong and then some

I got that I was tired

And not right.

I was tired of being myself

With lots of possibilities and confusions:

The dreams and the aims,

The feet and the steps,

So not-in-accord.

So helpless like a ten cross ten matrix,

Attenuated with time gradually,

It seems like a self claimed portrait

Of hopelessness

When I come across the mirror.

Then it happens,

Someone silently approaches

Out of the dark;

Want to hold my hand and walk,

Till sunrise,

And leave me refreshed

Not tired, not dejected.

Tired of Me? (flashinthedays.com)
Drone Bee (coceyea.wordpress.com)
Clarification about imprecations, love, hate, etc. (christusnostrumvita.wordpress.com)

Filed under: Ink The Psyche, Photography, poetry, Quote Tagged: Dreams, Ink The Psyche, life, literature, Philosophy, poetry, Psychology

Nirvana

Amaresh Swain — Fri, 04 Feb 2011 20:02:51 +0000

In an endeavor to quench the insatiable mind n heart

To blow out the fires of greed, hatred, and delusion

I search it at the slip of tongue of gossipmongers

In all discontinued traces of baile

And in the paths subjugated by life’s impatience and haste.

When I go that no-rebirth way

I wish I lived each moment of life

As it won’t ever come again they say

in non-individual existence of my inner soul

in the liberty from sufferings

in freedom from stench of distressful karma

in eradication of dissatisfaction, impermanence, soullessness.

I dream and I live

Nirvana

the perfect peace of the state of mind

that is free from craving, anger and aversion

I live at peace with the world,

having compassion for all,

giving up obsessions and fixations.

The existing volitions get pacified

When the metamorphosis starts

Of insight, deeds, vision, righteousness, virtue and mindfulness.

I search everywhere

An ideal blend of rest, harmony, stability and joy.

I believe I get

in purity of someones eyes

in touch of someones care

in intimacy of someones scolding

in simplicity of someones nothingness

I believe I search

Nirvana

The ineffable ultimate state of attainment.

In a sense of “Great Self”, “Great Bliss”, and “Great Purity”,

I often feel

With the emancipation from ignorance and the extinction of all attachment,

I live it just.

Filed under: Ink The Psyche, poetry, Quote Tagged: amaresh, Buddhism, God, literature, Nirvana, Noble Eightfold Path, Philosophy, poetry

Forgot to Tell You That…

Amaresh Swain — Mon, 13 Dec 2010 13:25:09 +0000

It was september when you came;

I was trying to find someone

In the clean and bright sky and an

Innocent star fell in my hand whom

I quietly accpted and loved.

It’s been years we lived this bond,

I’ve never thought how many

Incautious decisions we made,

Inculcation of some intimate moments and

Impostures that we had played.

It was fun.

I lived my life more than expectations

I and you and then some…

Illusions of your existence here;

I remember.

Intoxicated with time,

I, in September.

Filed under: Ink The Psyche, poetry Tagged: amaresh, Ink The Psyche, life, literature, love, poetry, september

Swain Pix: My new blog

Amaresh Swain — Fri, 03 Dec 2010 05:23:17 +0000

I have started a new picture blog named “Swain Pix“.

I need critical analysis of the blog. Please visit and leave your opinion.

Filed under: Blog, Photography Tagged: photography

Yes We Had A Story!

Amaresh Swain — Fri, 03 Dec 2010 05:01:46 +0000

All they ask is
How it comes to my mind,
And I tell that
It’s just something of my kind.

As we met and just fell in love;
Do not know how.
If they ask how it happened,
Need not worry;
Let’s pretend
That we had a story.

Open up your heart
And feel the breeze
Around, it’s the one
In which we
Used to walk hand in hand
And freeze.

Sometimes you, sometimes me,
The story was the same,
The writer was different though;
To your memories,
Only that story I owe.

In this way the story proceeds
From mind, each others’ memories we remove.
Now we were strangers, so.
And when we met the next time,
We again fell in love.

Let’s that story make them think,
Can something go?
Like this?
Or in our story
Something we miss…

To tell others…
Keep it in your memory;
We have to pretend
That we had a story.

Filed under: Ink The Psyche, poetry Tagged: Ink The Psyche, life, literature, love, poetry, pretend, story

Slam book…

Amaresh Swain — Sun, 26 Sep 2010 21:54:57 +0000

I started loving the butterfly and the dove flew away;
The flower, the smile and the eyes have made their way!

Filed under: Ink The Psyche, poetry, Quote Tagged: amaresh, Ink The Psyche, life, literature, love, poetry, slam book