A brush with life
A day in adulthood

A helpless follower

A man draped in tattered clothes

After dark

An axe on Keats

And can't I mould my future

And how the dreams fall

Being in love

Bereft of success

Between despair and hope

Come back soon
Devil and his counterpart

Devour

Engineers

Epitaph

Farewell

Farewell from the circle of friends

Fast moves the time

Femina

Finding Estella again

Freedom came cheap

From where to nowhere

Fulfillment

Harvest

Heart in Everest

Heaven to hell and back again

HOME

How he lies amid his ruins, and you smile

How I missed the beauty

I want to be your nosering
I weave a dream
I wonder
Insomnia

Kiss from a rose

Land's end

Leeches in my soul

Letter from battlefield

Looking back

Losing everything

Love and compromise

Love in modern times

Madonna

My abode among the clouds

My beloved

Naga Sadhu goes digital

Nevertheless I tried

Ode

On St. Valentine

On visiting an old place

Papa dear

Rancour

Reminiscences from my graveyard

Stranger at the tavern

Suspended animation

Tears, idle tears

Telephone call to my beloved

Tell her I am dead

Termination

That passed, this also may

The blissful illusion

The breathless seashore

The bride

The Buddha smiled, but he died

The cigarette butt, the mosquito blood

The day after the crossing

The desert princess

The dipping sun

The eve of St. Valentine

The frozen wet damsel

The last word

The pen and the paper

The phoenix

The pimp

The silence spoke so much

The soldier's lament

The tear left a trail

The world beyond innocence

They tell me I am mad

Thoughts of tomorrow

Titanic

To hug her close or leave her alone

Today I die

Vain is the wish to be born again

Vanished figure

Walking through the streets of a country deprived

When loss pains no more

Where the grass in not painted green

Which is better?

Wild nights
You don't ask

You see why I died

 

Priyatu's World > Poetry>  The bride

The bride

There goes my daughter to a place unknown,
The mature plant of a seed I had sown.
By these two hands how I reared,
With the passing days as she was endeared!
Her smile was a thing cherished; her cry did so pain,
Sulking once, how she would come to my arms again!
Must she be married; must she leave me alone?
‘Tis the plight of a father who cannot even moan.
Cruel is the world, which takes my daughter away,
I despair, how shall I spend my night and day?
There goes my daughter, who is no more mine,
And no more the sun or moon will shine,
There goes my daughter for a custom terse
With someone who was never her’s.
-3\12\98,Calcutta-63

COMMENTS :

This poem is so much relevant for a father in the Orient, like in India. The philosophy goes that a daughter is paraya dhan (other’s possession) who must be given over to her husband- in fact there is even ceremony involved- kanya daan literally means giving the daughter over to the husband, who now becomes the legal and social owner of his wife. This feeling of loss of possession eats into the heart of the father- in worse cases this provides a cause for reluctance into doing anything good for the daughter. The high cost of marriage of a girl becomes a headache ever since her birth. Thus instead of being a bundle of joy the girl becomes a burden of grief. But notwithstanding this unfortunate attitude which has been created by social and cultural conditions, there exists a deep emotional and psychological bond between the father and the daughter-and forget Freud for some moments. This bond is symbolically broken at this social ceremony which hands over the father’s daughter to a man who was unknown until this day. Perhaps for most fathers this is their most happy as well as their most sad day.

My favourite picks

Devil and his counterpart
Devour
Epitaph
Farewell from the circle of friends
Femina
Finding Estella again
Harvest
Kiss from a rose
Land's end
Leeches in my soul
Love and compromise
Nevertheless I tried
Stranger at the tavern
Suspended animation
Tell her I am dead
The blissful illusion
The breathless seashore
The bride
The cigarette butt, the mosquito blood
The dipping sun
The pimp
They tell me I am mad
To hug her close or leave her alone
You see why I died
Wild nights