April 20, 2024

3 Poems Of Rati Saxena

Reading Time: 3 minutes




She was hungry

as the death  at the beginning of the universe


and cold as death had already touched her,

Waiting for a warm touch in the lonely dark room


The machines are pumping as if

draining the water out of fields.


Now, she is waiting to be burnt with the woods

to get some warmth before her journey


bodies are on the bank of the river Ganga

waiting to get nirvana,


before that, her soul jumped onto the water

started swimming along with fishes


she is in the field of Vietnam

to become the food for seeds


he couldn’t make a pyramid for her

so made a locket with her ashes


and started his journey towards the sea,

interrupted by death.





Buddha, Einstein and Thao in the post ICU


Buddha is sitting in the corner of ICU from where

Seeing all that he saw before becoming Buddha


Two-year-old boy, lilac eyes, swinging between eternal and finite

Wounds covered with white bands like tilak on the forehead,

Sliding slowly in the throes of death



Ninety-year-old woman.

Wrestling with death and overtaking him,


What is the path left after becoming a Buddha?


On the other hand, Einstein humming the theory of relativity

Apart from diseases, connecting the burning of stars to the universe

Were just tying knots in theory of relativity

Disease, and death have  relativity, the real question is of the universe.


What rules will change if one become a Buddha?


Taking off the spider’s web, Tao looked down

said with a smile


sip joy in pain

find life in death




Blank Slate


This you must do – keep a slate

with a chalk, at the place, where you bury me


Yes be careful that I am not burnt

but planted in soil


the way paddy seedlings are

the way mango kernels are


I do not like the efficacy of fire

It wants to diminish in the very roots

whereas I want to stay a little bit longer on this earth

The doctor says my retina is upset with my nerves

Perhaps I won’t be able to see anything

The dark in the earth without a speck of light

will thus comfort me

Remember I am supposed to be neither wrapped in a shroud nor fastened in a casket

I feel claustrophobic in closed homes


Just dig out some soil to place me as it is

Then cover me with some books that are rotting in my library

Some termite may go in with these

Termite the most studious of all

will tell me things word by word

and will leave when doom comes

while I will knead like soil


If possible, throw around some seeds

specially of green chilies and tomatoes

Their roots will caress me

their fragrance help dissolve my intestines


Don’t worry about my bones

they will melt in the soil

like a chocolate on the tongue

They have had so many holes

that earthworms can make their way through


I told you to ensure

keeping a blank slate

If you please you may write on it

“The one who sleeps here was too rude

anger used to flow in her nerves like blood

She was so eccentric that she insisted on

whatever she thought was the truth

so much so that her bones hollowed

She saw good bad in almost everyone

and that’s how the nerves of her retina got topsyturvy”


Do write,

and write but only the truth, otherwise the soil will write about


I absolutely hate lies







Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *