Phoebus on La Grace

Today the Phoebus has descended with Grace
Bestowing bounteous mirth on La Grace
But the sunbeam I saw yesterday
Seems vanished or on leave today

No, the sun beam whispered in my ears
I never change my course through the years
It's you, seemed vanished from your course
To enjoy my bliss adhere to time's force

Nature runs and turns and burns in rhythmic way
But the man shuts and cuts and beats and slays
Always he goes astray and weaves hollow dreams
That obstruct the entry of dancing sun beams

- Dr. Intaj Malek

In the Hands of the People

All my friend, elders, country people

Beloved citizens, heed this plea,

Consider well where your vote should be.

Decide wisely, for the future's sake,

 

Ensure your choice shall not be a mistake.

For the nation's good, choose with care,

Guide it away from darkness and despair.

 

Hold fast to values, don't give in,

Investigate and think let truth begin.

Justice and fairness, let them prevail,

Keep out corruption, let truth unveil.

 

Look beyond guarantees, see what's real,

M ake a stand, for the people's appeal.

Never forget, your vote has great might,

O ppose oppression, stand up and fight.

Perhaps it's time for a change of hand,

 

Question authority, make a strong stand.

Remember, your vote shapes the land,

Seek out justice and equality take a stand.

Tell others too, spread the word,

 

Unmask falsehoods, let truth be heard.

Voice your concerns, don't be swayed,

Warn others, don't let them fade.

Xenophobia, reject with might, don't abstain,

Yearn for a better future, free from chains.

Zero shall be tyranny, Hitler shall not reign.

 

~ Dr Intaj Malek

Never alone

Never Alone 

In the world of knowledge, I am never alone, From dawn to dusk,I remain in bustling tone. Surrounded by friends, fans, and many more, In teaching's embrace, ways of muse I adore.

Among students of all hues young and old, In every discipline, my heart deeply unfold. Ashok, Dinesh, Pritesh, and gentle crew, We soar high with Jagu, Nishu, and Lolu too.

Bakar, my brother, forever by my side, Even on way to abode where souls abide. With all my family in their Love's embrace, In books and fans,I find solace and grace.

So when the night may darken the sky, In companionship, my loneliness will die. For in this journey, I am never on loan, In love and learning, I'm never alone.

~ Dr Intaj Malek

In the grip of fever

In the grip of humbo humbo fever's sway,

My soul takes flight upon the poet's bay.

With cheeks ablaze and mind a-whirl,

I'm seized by words, like a lyrical pearl.

 

As fever's fire courses through my veins,

I dance with muses in poetic reins.

In trance-like state, I freely roam,

From philosophy's heights to literature's home.

 

Oh, fevered brow and fevered plight,

Igniting verses in the dead of night.

From Lol to Pritu, my mind does roam,

As Tennyson's waves my thoughts find home.

 

With each rise and fall, a verse is born,

In fever's embrace, my spirit's torn.

But thanks, dear fever, for the gift you bring,

A muse in disguise, with every sting.

~ Dr Intaj Malek

Shadows of Deceit

In shadows deep, where truth retreats,

Lies a party of deceitful feats.

Thieves and decoits, their masquerade,

Rapists lurk in the dark they've made.

 

A saga of vein glory and falsehood spun,

By liars and blunderers, they're overrun.

Principles and morals lost, on barren ground,

In this party of pomp,  white lies unbound.

 

Divide and conquer, their age-old game,

Chaos and anarchy, their claim to fame.

Misleading courts, with twisted tongues,

This party's anthem, where deceit belongs.

 

Plutocrats and autocrats, there thrive,

In the shadows where truth doesn’t survive.

But in the light of day, we'll stand,

Against this party's tyrant hand.

 

In the web of lies, citizens are ensnared,

By falsehoods spun, they're left impaired.

Mesmerised youths, in its grip they sway,

Led astray from truth's guiding ray.

 

Wealth flows freely to businesses grand,

In exchange, mere pennies in hand.

The poor, forgotten, voiceless they stand,

Their cries ignored in this corrupted land.

 

Yet hope still flickers, a beacon bright,

Guiding us through the darkest night.

For truth will rise, its power untold,

To reclaim what this party has sold.

~ Dr Intaj Malek

Relations

In this modern maze, relations fray, Once cherished bonds now dim and gray, A mate, a friend, once held so dear, Now used and discarded without a tear.

What once bloomed strong, a sacred tie, Now wears a mask, a shallow lie, A doormat, once a trusted friend, Trampled upon for self-seeking end.

In this world, where connections fade, And genuine bonds begin to cascade, Let's sow seeds of trust and care, Revive the love we used to share.

Let kindness reign, let empathy soar, To rebuild what's lost, and even more, For in these fragile ties, we find our worth, Beyond mere use, a treasure trove unearth.

Let's breathe life into relations' art, And heal the wounds within the heart, For in this modern age's constant churn, True connections, eternal, forever burn.

~ Dr Intaj Malek

Rosacea on my cheeks

In a sudden blush, my cheeks turned red, A hue so vivid and glossy like a tale unsaid, As if brushed by makeup's gentle touch, A rosy glow, it seemed, a bit too much.

At first, a beauty in that pink embrace, A lovely pink tint bedecked my face, Days passed, and it ventured more, No pain, no itch, just that rosy lore.

Slowly, its canvas began to grow, lines did show, near eyes and brow, Scales and patches, an unforeseen plan, An older mask on face on a younger man.

Fear clasped tight, I sought a guide, A kind-hearted dermatologist beside, She found the cause, not a dire fuss, Rosacea was it and not Lupus plexus.

Medicines came, in a blend to heal, Antihistamines, a soothing seal, Topical mix, with a professional grace, Restoring to me my original former face.

Originality, a treasure to behold, Weighs heavier than artificial gold, My cheeks, in their natural bloom, Radiate love, dispelling every gloom.

In life's paths too, a lesson for all to find, In Rosacea's dance, brought fear in mind, Originality, as held high in its purest flow, A joy in simplicity and in gentleness glow.

~ Dr Intaj Malek

Simpleton Yanko

Once in a quaint village nestled amid rolling hills and lush meadows, lived a simpleton named Yanko. He was a man of endless chatter, possessing a penchant for sharing his thoughts on every topic and person that crossed his path. His words, like a ceaseless river, flowed freely, uncaring of their impact.

 

On a serene afternoon, Yanko set out to visit his friend Nanko, who had recently met with an unfortunate accident. As Yanko entered Nanko's humble abode, he greeted his friend with a flurry of words, not pausing to notice Nanko's guest, another villager named Tanko, sitting beside the bed.

 

Yanko, true to his nature, prattled on about everything under the sun. However, his musings took an unexpected turn when he stumbled upon a name—'Ianko.' In his usual fashion, Yanko embarked on a spontaneous monologue about this mysterious Ianko. He spoke of him in a manner that stirred bewilderment in the eyes of Nanko and Tanko, who exchanged surprised glances as Yanko continued, oblivious to their reaction.

 

Unbeknownst to Yanko, his casual ramblings about Ianko, littered with unintentional fabrications and exaggerated anecdotes, began to circulate within the village. The very air seemed to carry his words, and before long, Ianko's reputation was tainted, tarnished by Yanko's reckless tongue.

 

Remarkably, Ianko chose not to confront Yanko about the matter. Instead, he chose the dignified path of silence. Yet, Yanko, despite the unintended repercussions of his words, remained unchanged. He never seemed to grasp the weight of his careless chatter or the consequences it wrought upon others.

 

The village, once a haven of tranquility, found itself caught in the whispers fueled by Yanko's thoughtless banter. And although Ianko silently endured the fallout, Yanko continued his carefree musings, never considering the damage caused by his unfiltered words.

 

For Yanko, the world remained a canvas where words flowed uninhibitedly, often leaving behind unforeseen marks on the lives of those touched by his thoughtless speech. Yet, despite the lessons life presented, Yanko remained steadfast in his ways, forever lost in the endless stream of his own chatter.

~ Dr Intaj Malek

Merging with Krishna

In the quiet moments, I utter your name, Krishna, Krishna, in endless acclaim, But have I asked, in this one-sided devotion, For your presence, your divine emotion?

Is it I, who over-glorify your divine name, Or dear Krishna, do you lay your claim? In truth, the soul is you, and you are it, In this dance of delight, we find our spirit lit.

It's the pure consciousness, the soul's pure delight, In the name of Krishna, in the day and the night, When we see a rose, a beauty so divine, It's the soul within us, in its essence, we entwine.

External Krishna, and the one deep inside, In this sacred union, our spirits do confide, The supreme beauty, in the depths we explore, As innermost Krishna, with outer, does implore.

In this divinity, in this Krishna's grace, The merging of the external, with the inner space, This is pure consciousness, the divine's own art, Where Krishna and the soul, in love, never depart.

So, in every utterance, in Krishna's sweet refrain, The inner Krishna wakes, and we begin to gain, A glimpse of the beauty, within and without, In Krishna's name, souls dance, without a doubt.

~Dr Intaj Malek

Krishna in Mythology

In modern times, where myths and legends blend, I speak of Krishna, a timeless message to send, With mythology's wisdom, we rekindle the old, In a modern world, his captivating tale is retold.

From Greece's Olympus to the Nile so grand, From Norse mythology's icy northern land, Krishna stands, a symbol of love so pure, In tales from world, his essence does endure.

As Vishnu's avatar, in the pious Hindu lore, He's the flute-playing god, whom we adore, But in modern context, his teachings transcend, Cultures and religions, they harmoniously blend.

In Greece, he's the harmony of Apollo's lyre, In Egypt, a symbol of resurrection from the mire, In Norse myth, he is a warrior's courage so bold, In Krishna's love and wisdom, world finds its mold.

His lessons of compassion, love, and grace, In every culture's myth, we find their trace, For in a modern world, his message still stands, A universal truth, across all earthly lands.

So, Krishna, in myth and modernity's race, Your teachings of love are a timeless grace, In changing world your wisdom we unfold, For in every mythology, your story is retold.