Life: A Jail

Woah world! People come here and go,
Moving like a pendulum to and fro.
Shakespeare defines it as a live performance on stage,
Dying hard to have more grade to increase their wage.
But I think it's like a jail,
We are waiting here eagerly to get bail.
God sent us here because of our deeds,
To improve is the task by telling beads.
He keeps on sending good people and sages,
Like a jailer he is for ages.
Improved ones are moved out to heaven,
Others are givens another chance to get themselves trodden.
Vile ones are taken to hell,
Like a hardcore criminal in a special cell.
This process of improvement will go on,
And then it will come a day of real dawn.
Dawn of knowledge to each and every soul,
Dusk of beings who have many foul.
-Divya Prakash Bhardwaj
(DPBian art)

Fireflies Are Coming Out

Fireflies are coming out, Lightening up the grass. Erasing all your fancy doubts, Leaving your mind crass.

Camp fire burning high, Under the vessel; lid at side, Scrumptious smell passes by, Now your taste buds wanna glide.

Had the supper in a gossip, You never reckon how time flies on. Ice cold whip; sticks on your lip, And you’ll never know it’s con.

Camp fire slowly going off, Making the night intense. Glittering darkness stars in sky, Mesmerizing your sense.

Goes off with sudden smoke, Feel the peace and the breeze. Clean air your lungs won’t choke, Smell the grass and the trees.

Relish radiating red warm wood, Like cheeks of little girl who’s shy. Sounds of crickets sets your mood, Listen the hymn; feel the rhythm and let your soul fly.                                            -Divya Prakash Bhardwaj


Older than civilization itself there's a city; Yes you guessed it right, holy serene Kashi. Abode of the one who is even older than time; Yes you guessed it right, Yogi Shiva of mine. Serene holy Ganges and beautiful Ghats; Kashi lives in all social and solitary hearts. Daswamedh, ManMandir, Scindia, Manikarnika; Ghats explain life and death as pious as Swastika. Kashi connecting ancient wisdom to modern philosophy; Opening the attributes of epistemology. Different dimension in Kashi Vishwanath Temple; Environs of enlightening energy is ample. Aside from hustle-bustle of life; together say, Harhar Mahadev Shambhu; Kashi Vishwanath Gange. -Divya Prakash Bhardwaj (DPBianArt)

From “bits of paper” to “binary bits”

These walls among-st whom I lay down, The warmth and bleak life pronounce, Haziness shuts all paths that you may find, Muzzy thoughts makes you anxious and then blind. Several rays of lame hope you're with, To find the true hope is the real twist. This where I realized, What growing up be like. I've grown from“bits of paper” to “binary bits”, And I’ve seen many goods and some filthy shits. Life for me is sometimes a hell sometimes heaven, How nice would it’ve been if I had a friend. Who would listen me, care me and not leave me like a trend. Well whatever one great thing I learnt, You should be friend not trend, You should make friend not trend. -Divya Prakash Bhardwaj (dpbianart)


Wondering what happiness is for me, Is it some material thing, well what can it be. Driving a fascinating car or a swifty bike, Nah that's not near for what I like. For me happiness is to just go there, Sit for hours and watch them appear. Not being surrounded by many human beings, Silver water flowing, I love them seeing. Sitting on the walkway bridge, I saw, Beneath me passes a pigeon with shiny claw. Birds from trees singing dulcetly, And then nature goes musically. Hanging are my legs down the walkway bridge, Soul healing environment can't be bought by prestige. This is the place where ends my suffer, Nature wants to tell me something but I can't infer. Wind blowing gently, followed by a breeze. Rustling are the leaves like they are dancing with ease. Water and stones quarreling, making the clatter, All the time they did was giving me a flatter. -Divya Prakash Bhardwaj (dpbianart)


Walking through the streets, I saw
Someone was breaking the law.
In the corridor of the market,
He was wearing a thin blanket.
It was sizzling cold,
Though he stood bold.
Starving to death by hunger,
He was in the shop.
Had no money and asked to give him some bread,
Shopkeeper had no mercy only dread.
Because of his dressing sense,
Shopkeeper grew more tense.
Hunger killed the shopkeeper,
And the creature ran up like creeper.
Having something to eat in his hand,
He was much above the land.
After the hunger stopped,
He had many thoughts.
Convict was in fear,
And had some tear.
Whether the food comes from grace or sin,
But he didn’t want to become thin.
To satisfy needs of his tummy,
Everyone needs money.
To earn money; one needs work,
And with work life becomes perk.
So we must work very hard,
To not feel guilty from our heart.
And we must remember work shouldn’t be rude,
But instead,it must be good.

A Beautiful Brook

Earlier I had a look,
To a beautiful brook,
But day by day and night by night,
As the sands of time passed by,
The brook turned into a gigantic cry,
With water dirty black and plants did die,
And humans wanted a overfly.
It took thirty seconds to cross that bridge,
But many years for that brook to come beneath bridge.
That thirty seconds gave me a look,
How intelligently we drained that brook.
That's why I say humans are great crook.
Earlier I had a look,
To a beautiful brook.
Now I look it again,
That horrible sight gives me pain,
Again and again more pain I gain.
That sight keeps flashing in my mind,
And broke my dream of utopian world,
Now I believe my dream was inert.
That bridge was sign of developed human civilisation,
What faces of ours will be portrayed to our advanced future generation.