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Mohan Jaipuri
60/M/India    All poems are my inner voice and are protected under copyright laws.

Poems

Karijinbba Jun 2021
mera dil jayapur bhaarat mein dhadakata hai
~my heart beats in Jaipur India~

Dil ko tumse pyar hua Jayapur
~my heart fell in love
with you in Jayspur India~

mera dil ham jayapur bhaarat mein toot gaya
~my heart is broken in Jayapur India~
~all the way to America.~

mera dil ham sabhee tarah se tod diya amerika aur vaapas karane ke lie

mera dil bhaarat se lekar amerika aur peechhe tak toota hua hai

It just means
My heart is broken all the way from India to America and back.

that's the beauty of being s poetess
we can dream aware
that dreams don't always come true

ek kavayitree hone ke naate yahee khoobasooratee hai

ham sapane dekhate hain ki sabhee sapane sach nahin hote hain
~~~~~
My dear Hello Poetry
I didn't cared for followers
nor comments or denied suns
I was looking for my true love.

mere priy ech.*** sun
mujhe pholoars kament kee paravaah nahin thee aur na hee sooraj sun

mujhe apane sachche pyaar kee talaash thee

I found my beloved asleep
deep in my heart

mainne apane priy ko apane dil kee gaharaiyon mein soya paaya.

~just waiting for my kiss.~
bas mere chumban ke lie intajaar.
Just waiting for my kiss.
~~
By Karijinbba
06-2021
Love is a many splendored thing
Inspired by the few followers
who had wisdom to bet on my future
unselfishly.
benefits to my life story belong only to me
and my kin nobody else here.
Àŧùl Sep 2013
I have known this much talked about search for true love for over 10 years and I am aged 22 years now. There was this unforgiving loneliness till I was 17 years of age given that I am the only child of my parents who lives with them in a lonely campus of a research institute away from the small city.

A tumultuous relationship filled with resentment to the brim about my parents keeping me their only 'issue' was brought to the hilt and I was weary of being their arguably most beloved 'machine' who was supposed to live sticking to the 'guidelines' laid by them as the ideal only son.

We aren't from a landlord's family and have limited resources, so I was supposed to suffice in my parents' love and affection, studying at a fairly consistent dedication to bring forth the results worthwhile landing me a good job.

But who has been able to control a Romeo-in-the-making?

Answer: Nobody!

But my Juliet wasn't yet on the horizon till age 17, when I mistakenly took my first girlfriend who was my classmate till class 7, to be my last love. Period. Then for the first time I was introduced to the idea of 'love' by this sweet girl whom I dub "G3" over 11 months elder to me. I had proposed her, but it was not a pre-emptive proposal.

Our period of courtship had started over Orkut which was the most popular social website at that time. It was just friendship initially until I had unsuccessfully proposed two bimbets other than my first girlfriend. One of those two unsuccessful attempts was with her best-friend-once-upon-a-time.

I had told her about them both, she had even tried apparently helping me propose her best friend when I had told her that I had even written a song for my childhood crush over the years I had been away from my old school.

Her first reaction was, "I would die for having such a boyfriend! Wish it was I for whom the song was composed."

Then when I proposed my childhood crush, G1, I couldn't even mention about the song and she rejected my proposal. Period. I was distraught, I was broken & I was amazed at how easily she could've undermined my liking for her from the past 7 years.

To take my attention off the disappointment posed by my first rejection. I proposed a different girl, G2, non-seriously, knowing that another rejection was lurking behind the curtains of time.

Rejection 2 successfully diverted my mind away from the mess created. Anyways, I did have a girlfriend for myself. After all, people love guys who sing melodiously and can play guitar apart from having decent appearance, and believe me- I used to look this chocolatey young guy until I was 19 years of age.

The girl who later went on to have the place vacated by my first crush was her same best-friend-once-upon-a-time 'G3'. She went on varied lengths in narrating her own break-up story with the guy she was with. I got a second-hand  piece as my first girlfriend. It was no issues, at least till she was bickering about how he had broken her 'heart-of-a-self-proclaimed-princess' and we started having arguments and serious tiffs over what had been happening in her life.

We broke-up. I had enough of the hardships brought by myself upon her. She had taken to crying harshly over phone. I resented myself. I failed to identify that it was not true love indeed but only a mirage of the idea.

I next concentrated in studies and this time I prevailed over the hurdles offered by examinations and a second girlfriend, 'G4', who refused to openly accept she was going about with me was attracted to me. She'd go see the Taj Mahal at Agra and the Hawa Mahal at Jaipur with me apart from spending the night in the same hotel room but would still reckon me with my pending reappear supplementary exams and wouldn't openly accept a failure as her man. I was frustrated by her autocratic behaviour and opted for a different girl, 'G5'.

G5 was the prettiest of my first 3 GF's as far as looks were considered. We romanced around Delhi's historical places and malls; holding hands around cinemas and Old Fort walls in New Delhi. But still I was as ****** as I was when I was born.

May 7, 2010 was a scorching hot day with the sun ablaze overhead and me going on the busiest highway of India. I was going back to my home and met with a serious road accident en route that kicked me out of my senses into a frozen comatose state.

I somehow survived the life-threatening coma and was moving around in 52 long weeks, limping heavily all thanks to my parents and the kind physiotherapist. Thanks to a poor memory, I initially performed extremely below average at college.

Then I was all prepared to attack at all future examinations and nothing could stop me. I breezed past another girl 'G6', this was my last failure. She was confused between me and a different guy. Neither me nor any other guy with a high self-prestige would entertain the idea of being weighed as an option. I again moved on.

Then comes the continuing story of my true love. True love is the one that lasts forever successfully. She is incidentally my 7th chance upon the love pathway and last. I am sure this is her- my soul-mate.

She is my gateway to the 7th heaven, I find her presence in every aspect of my life. She is 6 years and 9 months younger to me and her descent in my life has been the best thing in my life. I celebrate and rejoice each day in her presence. Our tastes are so similar that we feel merely our X- & Y-chromosomes are different.

We patiently wait for time to last till the day till we perish after blessing our grandchildren. We live 250 kilometres away from each other and have only known each other through voices and photos. We are yet to meet. Till then I wait for the day my master degree gets over and she gets into a medical college.

Now I will end this post by saying that there's no end of love and no beginning of it - you just have to wait, identify and hold on to your truest love.
http://www.relationshiptalk.net/in-search-of-the-truest-love-3677.html

Self-Note (Not to be forgotten): This was the last time you wrote about your past. But what's passed is past now and is meant to be forgotten. I really hope she reads the second-last paragraph duly and gives it due thought. 143 Creeps!
Connor Jun 2015
Myself caught in the heatwave sunlight, brown eyes
furrowed in the sun, scarf loose on my neck/
the transcendental Denpasar morning-birds
are playing their melodies in my head still,
three years post-Indonesia.
        All of my soul to India now,
        sky the pink of painted elephants
        on Jaipur dawning,
        my afterlife was somewhere here
        perhaps two generations ago, chances are.
               Vijay Raghav Rao and Alla Rakha
               playing the Tabla/via earphones/treading the
               Funary Box City (Kashi) future Spring
               hands held together keeping calm pace.
               Looking about, my twenty-two year old face
catches humid wind
S
I
L
V
E
R
S
H
O
P
tattered bike leaning on the gated guest house entrance
     PERENNIAL AZURE SHIVA SITS CROSS LEGGED/
     COBRA NECKLACE IMITIATONS ON THE GODDESS THROAT/
     MEDITATING SHIVA/
dulled from years and corrosion.
Brahmin center of the market street
flapping it's tail,
sweat beads from my forehead bleeding
to oily pavement.
At last the months have come for the river Ganges,
April penumbra/savage thunderclap
while school children uplifting the heart
                 AND MIND
are ROARING in their laughter
the CONTINENTAL DISCORD OF JOY
sleeping with their eyes open
while others are too tired for the Earth.
Sidney Bechet floating swan songs during
the black hour cremations/
“Bechet Creole Blues”
CATERWAUL IN THAT              VOID
THE METAMORPHOSIS OF DEATH/
LUNACY OF LIFE
                     (I've arrived at the simultaneous crossroads
                                                      ­  of both)
searing flesh in open air pyramids/
Manikarnika Ghat,
Asia  F
          L
         O
         W
          S
through dreams
like inevitable prophecy
and as ash blends with stars
the CITY seems fulfilled
and mystifying
in it's
                      (((((RESPLENDENCE)))))