Babu’s Death

Babu’s Death

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See the image feel it and read very Smoothly each line .

(Babu means Father)

Each entry I made

Babu’s fumes I hailed

In the morning he told

Will be back

With some marigold

In the evening

He was back

With a crowd as jack

He was laying in a bed

It was new to our head

He was sleeping cold

In a white fold

Where is my marigold?

I goal’d

He dint said anything

He dint said anything hold

Hold

Don’t take him away I told

But people took him away

With flowers on the way

As sold

Neighbors said a labor died

For which no one cried

We cried

We cried our best

For what I still hide

Amma said his death arrived

What is death I mild

Nothing, you sleep child

My babu is there

Somewhere in the hut

Somewhere in the nook

I know

I know his body was perfect

Today

Nobody is there

In my hut

Only his fragment of body left

Each morning I waited

When light enters to wake up

My eye wishes

He is there on the gate

To love us

To save us

Fake

He is not there anywhere

In the gate

I called my babu

Babu  babu

Where I could find

My elders said

Babu is late

Late

Wait

I waited

I waited in veranda

Perhaps we played

We played

Hide and seek we played

I was caught’d, every time

But where is my babu

I couldn’t find

Find…..

 Hari Das



Street Children s where ever i went i had seen these ill fated babies.
What to do? was the question It came with an answer
SHABD Society for Street Children s
My Ambition
My Aim  

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My Friend Alyssa from France had done some research in 2012 with subject Indian street babies
please do have a look .I am shore u people will like her post and will learn some thing.
http://hitherebeaware.blogspot.in/2010/05/india-and-her-babies.html

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Street Writer Hari Das

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On-The-Streets

street children

(Drama)

Born in black

I squeezed for the white milk

From an unknown Breast

On the streets

I was a month old as a feast (0-1)

 

I balanced my feat

Raised my hands for a treat

But nobody was there

To give me a warm great

She left me alone

With my future on the streets

But three year old that was least (1-3)

Streets took me to seek

To play hide and seek

I found some nomads

To roll down the tire on the streets

In the circus was the food as a fees

And for the people age six was sweet (3-6)

 

Cool breeze chilled our finger

White fog took shelter in the winter

Some where our teared cloths trendy in summer

Become first door to enter

We shivered on the streets

To stick to each other was least

Any how we have to pass the time

Because morning is going to gift us a warm shine

 

But we will find a place

Were we will beg for a sake

Can get some coins with woolen

From the rich people who pray’s in heaven

And I will sleep with the age of nine

On the streets as lion (6-9)

 

 

 

Run run common fast on the streets

Said an ugly face to mugly face

Huge traffic is there to knock the door

Were I raised the voice as headline as a choice

If u need to know come and grab the voice

Mesmerizing to the god in each festive size

Something should happen somewhere

As I need to sell info with gear

So that at least today we can fulfill our hunger

As this age of eleven is not a big wonder (9-11)

 

Someone on the streets

Said we need to be protected

For the future of east

They took us to orphanage

Where everything was fine

With a show peace and a show time

Someone on the streets

Said we need to be protected more

For the future of east

So they took us to home

Were emotion was the trade mark

How much work we have to do

In the absence of the lady

Was a big question mark?

 

They took us as a dirty blood

As the real blood went to school

And we were left in the kitchens

Where broom act as a hunter

In each summer and winter

Blood shreds from the sky

Where each corner tells me to cry

For god sake I need my streets again

To hug my mother for a rain

As this age of fourteen

Is giving me unbearable pain

I need my streets again

I need my streets again

On the streets again……haaaa (11-14)

last

Hari Das

Innocent face of humans are children s .we got every thing in our child hood but some children s are ill fated because they live in streets  they are in lost track.we people need to support them to get them into wright track.Next time a child beg in front of u don’t hesitate just give them as much u can If our life is perfect cant we help them too with a little bit effort in our own way.So that these qt little children s can feel  flex y towards their life.

May God Bless these children s.

In Support of Child Welfare and Against Child Laboury…Hari Das

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@ all right reserved by Hari Das Vieena 2014

An Ink Fruit – Streets

AN INK FRUIT – STREETS

https://store.kobobooks.com/ebook/an-ink-fruit

Free To Down Load from all  ebook stores world wide
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A travel on the city streets of India to connect with the people and their life to get rhythm of poetry and love.

This book consists of Love, Travel, Philosophy, Social, Religion, Humanity, Poetry, and Politics and with many other features the writer is trying to formulate streets in a book. The main ambition of this book is to point out those negative human psychologies, old and rusted customs or belief and various in humanitarian acts present in this society and community that are easily visible in streets. As an act of authentication each chapter will be acting as each bar of that iron gate of coming 30th century where for such kind of deeds and acts against poor and suppressed there will be no entry.

The elements of this book are from writes personal experience during his travel in the streets of Bhopal, situated in central part of India. In the upcoming volumes of An Ink Fruit he will be discussing about streets of Mumbai.

Hari Das is an Indian street writer. He is well known for his poetry’s especially street poetry’s. He as a poet and writer is writing for the coming next 30th century. He wants his work to act as a closed gate for all those in humanitarian acts against human life so that at least coming generation can be free from the curse we are facing today. For this purpose he believes street is the best place where he can work because all the negativity’s present in this world can be easily traced from here. In this way his Book An Ink Fruit – Streets (Bhopal) is his first project he completed. For his next project he is there in Mumbai Streets now Streets (Mumbai).

If

 

If there is a forest
There is a barren land

If there is darkness
There is a sourcing light

If there is belief
There is a term relief

If there is disbelief
There is a term self

If there is good 
There is a bad

If there is human
There is air to breath
Water to drink
Food to eat

Everything is there in this nature 
With an if
With an else

But if there is a start
There is an end…..

Hari Das

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https://haridas7499.wordpress.com/2014/12/13/one/

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@ all right reserved by Hari Das Vieena 2015

Nandini

Nandini

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My name is Nandini

I sell pens in the traffic signal

When the signal get orange’d

I sell pens long and elastic pens

I move door after door

Carrying bunches of pen

I knock on the door

Five a pen for ten three pens

But no one buys

They  tell we have a pen

Small and fountain pen

I don’t know how to write

How to read

But i know how to sell the pens

Some one buy some one buy

Five a pen for ten three pens

Child in door shining pen

Mamma i need i need this pen

Long and elastic pen

How much for a pen?

My age is five

Five a pen for ten three pens

One i sold

Still left in fold

Some one buy Some one buy

Five a pen for ten three pens

My name is Nandini

I sell pens in the traffic signal

When the signal get orange’d

I sell pens long and elastic pens



Poetry is a music a ry-them if u follow the rules u will
love it so take a glass of wine or a cigarette and read it
smoothly smoothly lovely.

I Wrote this when i had seen a small baby girl selling long and elastic pens in the kormangala Sony World Signal  Banglore India.

(In This age she should be there in school but she is there in signal this is India we have to except it)

Hari Das

https://www.facebook.com/haridaswriter?ref=hl

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100008189326013
http://www.haridaswriter.weebly.com/

https://haridas7499.wordpress.com/2014/12/13/one/

https://www.facebook.com/shabdsocietyforstreetchildren

@ all right reserved by Hari Das Vieena 2015

Nandini

Nandini

timthumb

My name is Nandini

I sell pens in the traffic signal

When the signal get orange’d

I sell pens long and elastic pens

I move door after door

Carrying bunches of pen

I knock on the door

Five a pen for ten three pens

But no one buys

They  tell we have a pen

Small and fountain pen

I don’t know how to write

How to read

But i know how to sell the pens

Some one buy some one buy

Five a pen for ten three pens

Child in door shining pen

Mamma i need i need this pen

Long and elastic pen

How much for a pen?

My age is five

Five a pen for ten three pens

One i sold

Still left in fold

Some one buy Some one buy

Five a pen for ten three pens

My name is Nandini

I sell pens in the traffic signal

When the signal get orange’d

I sell pens long and elastic pens



Poetry is a music a ry-them if u follow the rules u will
love it so take a glass of wine or a cigarette and read it
smoothly smoothly lovely.

I Wrote this when i had seen a small baby girl selling long and elastic pens in the kormangala Sony World Signal  Banglore India.

(In This age she should be there in school but she is there in signal this is India we have to except it)

Hari Das

https://www.facebook.com/haridaswriter?ref=hl

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100008189326013
http://www.haridaswriter.weebly.com/

https://haridas7499.wordpress.com/2014/12/13/one/

https://www.facebook.com/shabdsocietyforstreetchildren

@ all right reserved by Hari Das Vieena 2015