Deepika Singh - Biography and two poems
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DEEPIKA SINGH
Deepika Singh is an Indian native from Margherita, Assam. She holds an M.A. and a B.Ed. degree,by profession, a teacher. Her writings are a reflection of the everyday experiences she has. She thinks the correct words have the power to transform our culture. Her works were featured in various publications, including Sipay Journal, The Poet Magazine, Womensweb, Journal of Macedonia Scientific Society, Poetry Zine Magazine, Archer Magazine, etc. Additionally, her writings were translated into Hebrew, Chinese, Macedonian, Spanish, Serbian, Tajik, and Turkish.
She also recited poetry on Kent's BBC Radio.
THE WALL of HATRED
I am a worshiper of peace from a sacred garden.
My blank eyes,
Helplessly watching you,
Brick by brick,
Creating the wall of hatred .
You raise high the wailing wall,
And covered the crimson walls with your ego.
Hollow brain with loud voice.
You unfurled your mask of generosity.
Your triumph lies in oppressing the weary spirit.
Don’t be so proud of your power,
You blocked my route,
And the door of Gehenna is open for you today.
Panting for help I knocked at Doyen’s door,
Soon it faded from public memory and ended up in dusty pages.
Injustice gloss on my face.
Society robs us of our humanity.
Those block paths serve as a meal of memories now.
This is what we call-
Perils of being a kind soul.
Life is too short,
To squander in enmity.
Be human , let humanity win.
THE QUEST
I’m grey now, my child,
Your father’s departure made my life hollow.
My eyes become moist when I recall him.
Now, I am stacked with responsibilities.
My longing eyes eager to see you in a red veil.
My lifelong wish to see,
The dazzling red colour on your forehead.
My child I searched a lot,
But the suitable boy is on a distant shore to be found.
Is it my fault that I gave you birth ?
They defile our race.
‘Unity in Diversity’ is restricted only to books.
They mock on your shadowy tone,
Your colour is the shade of Earth,
Seeds sprout and flowers bloom.
Your knowledge is your gem,
And they ridicule it too.
How lame are they?
Murky world disgrace your devotion towards me,
A devoted son is an honour,
Then why not a devoted daughter?
I begged at every door,
To search a suitable boy for you,
Sad,folks always gave false hope.
Me too wish to nurture my grandchild,
Who will sit on my lap,
And I will wrap her tight.
With her I will relive my childhood again.
I asked to God -
Why people with tainted heart,
Enjoying an ecstatic life.
We have wisdom to be simple,
And thus our hearts are distorted every time.
Waiting for the new dawn.
In every verse there are some,
Unspoken silence.
