The Thermopylae of Rajasthan

(A Poetic Tribute to the famous Battle of Haldighati, fought between the numerically superior and materially prosperous Mughal Empire led by Raja Man Singh and the fiercely Independent Mewar Kingdom led by the famous Maharana Pratap, on 18th June, 1576 CE. The battle is regarded as the Themopylae of Rajasthan for the heroic last stand of Mewar.) 

The Forts of Rajputana shook at the Great Mughals' gumption

with new allies and old foes all seeking redemption.

Yet, on the turmeric colored pass, Mewar's Rana stood tall;  

For his warriors, the battle's a game, with no fear of fall. 

@ Museum, Haldighati

Men, Horses, Elephants all set for glory; 

Ambition clashed with courage, and the result's very gory. 

Near the impregnable Kumbhalgarh, a tryst with blood  was sought,

and with Saffron clad frenzy, the outnumbered Rana's troops fought. 

 

Me at Haldighati Pass

But the forces of the Emperor's trusted lieutenant were not ill prepared,  

and the deadly battle raged on, with hell's cynical glare.  

The adjacent pond became redder and redder with each passing minute;

The victors and vanquished became inseparable with no escape route 

Me at Haldighati

Then at that fateful movement, the noble & sweet stallion Chetak was wounded;

With worse to come, with all hope lost, the Rana’s forces were rounded. 

The Bhils rallied behind Rana, but the battle was long over,  

The bloody day ended, but the battle and the warriors’ deeds remain etched in Mewar’s folkore. 

Samadhi of Chetak, Halighati

"The Thermopylae of Rajasthan" (Poem /Poetic Tribute/ English) 

Maheeth Veluvali, 

16 Saladi Jamindar Street, 

Palakollu. 

Friday, 20eth of March, 2026.

A Winter's Day

It's a Winter's Day - that lazy, listless, lethargic season; 

Dull yet dreamy, all cravings unwritten.

How great a dream is to remain unbothered, 

yet it's a dutiful regular day, like any other.

Gentle drops of snow dancing in the morning,

playing hide and seek with the rays of the Sun;

A perfect recipe for Solitude's yearning -

Alas; but work bothers us all with a Gun.

The days may be short, but our memories aren't;

The show goes on for the men in the arena. 

A crisp chilly sojourn before Summer dawns, 

As for the rains, they never left anyway. 

The Divine aura of Kartheeka sweeps the Hills and the Plains, 

As festivals of fervor make their mark. 

In winter's warm embrace, we mark our gains, 

But, hey - tomorrow's another winter day - no less shiny, no less dark. 

"A Winter's Day" (Poem / English) 

Maheeth Veluvali, 

16 Saladi Jamindar Street, 

Palakollu. 

Thursday, 14th of November, 2024.

Tribute to Shri Ratan Tata

Shri Ratan N.Tata . Picture Credits : Wikipedia

 (Poetic Tribute to Shri Ratan  N Tata, who passed away on 9 October, 2024 and whose name requires no introduction.)

The nervous nineties shuffled a nation's economic coil, 
whither do we go? What fortune binds ?
That household brand seemed to be in a boil,
troubled times called for tougher minds.

In these times of shorter attention and fickle fame, 
where man dances to the tune of color paper,
and where inequality is cherished to the core,
one man stood tall, simple and honest and he did matter. 

A rebranding done, all challenges accepted, 
a life well lived, warming many hearts. 
A Gentle Giant passed away in the dead of the night, 
An era ends, a noble soul departs. 

"Tribute to Shri Ratan Tata" - on Shri Ratan N.Tata

16 Saladi Jamindar Street, Palakollu

Thursday, 10th of October, 2024.

Maheeth Veluvali.

The Taj Mahal

March 2023 CE (Chaitra 1945 SE) - Taj Mahal, Agra, Uttar Pradesh

"

An idyllic walk down the battered roads of Agra, by and by,

led to the Mausoleum of the Emperor's ladylove. 

And lo, this glittering monument of beauty,

more a symbol of skill and power, than love.

Pages of praise, poignant and poetic mark this Mahal's story, 

where medieval engineering married opulent endeavor.

The Mughals left, so did the British, with no sorry,

Yet this timeless grandeur flourishes with matchless measure.

The outward pointed Minars and the Bulbous Ivory White Double Dome,

the Pristine Pietra Dura  and the Joyful Jali work;

Here, the nightmares of reality are toyed by dreams that roam,

and sheer marvel and appreciation make their mark.

 

On the banks of Yamuna, refusing to be ravaged by the tests of time;

stands this Wonder of the World, in all glory and prime.  

 "    

"The Taj Mahal" - on Taj Mahal, Agra

16 Saladi Jamindar Street, Palakollu

Sunday, 08th of September, 2024.

Maheeth Veluvali.

Sweet Victory

(On Saturday, 29th of June, 2024 - India beat Republic South Africa to clinch ICC Cricket World Cup T20 2024, a major cricket title after an agonizing near misses of eleven years. This is a poetic tribute to the men in blue.)

"

In Barbados, an old tale seemed to play out, 

a familiar eerie script, a Deja vu of sorts. 

The hopes and dreams seldom in doubt,

but aren't twisted tales a part of sports?

The West held promise unlike the travails of past, 

what's that good in the game of cricket, many would feel?

But the nation of passionate millions waiting for a blast,

got everything when Rohit Sharma's men sealed the deal.

Fandoms passed down from generations, 

a cult that survives and thrives. 

One game of bat and ball with twenty two players

a feverish craze beyond mere words. 

Let the negativity and naysayers wait for all that matters, 

And hear, hear; - Indian Cricket, another glorious chapter is added.  

What a game it was, and catches do win matches,

a gloomy decade gone, let us bask in glory, with our boys' backs' patted.

"

"Sweet Victory" (Poem / Poetic Tribute) 

                                                                                                                            16 Saladi Jamindar Street,

Palakollu. 

Monday, 1st of July, 2024.

Maheeth Veluvali

Conquest of Chandra's South Pole

(At 06:04 PM, 23rd of August 2023, India became the fourth nation to soft land robotic lander on the moon, first to do so on South Pole. The poem is a tribute to Chandrayan-3 mission of ISRO)

That dreaded deja vu of 'fifteen minutes of terror'
played havoc on everyone's mind.
Four years ago, that countdown held a mirror,
to the calamity that's handed down. 

The moon was distant, the media was cruel, 
the maverick prophets of doom triumphed.
The Gods smiled this time, with fate's duel,
human endeavor and scientific temper combined. 

Slowly and steadily, billions watched, 
with fervent hope and bated breath;
amidst raging worse news, our hearts touched,
an event memorable even in death.

Who knows, some future dreamers may take birth today, 
in non-descript rural school buildings without fuss. 
For now, let's Hoist the tricolor, praise the brilliant minds and bask in pride,
for The Lord Soma himself, his mysteries intact, hosted us.

Maheeth Veluvali,                           

16 Saladi Jamindar Street, 

Palakollu.

Gorbachev

Mikhail S Gorbachev

"

The sick sickle and hammer suffered since the sixties,

when the war that wasn't hot was too hot to handle,

there was beauty in struggle, like autumn's lillies,

brought up in the red banner of Moscow's granduer.

 

A clash of ideologies set after a gory war, 

brought no glory to the common man,

swollen pride mattered little with prices they can't bear,

and one man understood the rut, a reformer in a dying clan.

The warriors of west, those champions of democracy mocked 'Trust but verify',

with the ashes of the second world consigned in Afghanistan's battlefields.

But, one little Gorbi made one last stand, 

hated by left right and centre, still not corrupted by power. 

Glasnost and Perestroika, the comrade general secretary ensured in letter and spirit, 

unmindful of history's partisan junior judges, unaware of the betrayals by one and all,

Tried till the last to hold the republics, but never forcing the winds of change, 

'This is how it ends, Sasha' said the maligned Gorbi and quietly slipped out with no applause.

"

 

Mikhail S Gorbachev passed away in August 2022. He was the president of the Sovier Union from 1985 to 1991, whose well meant reforms of Glasnost and Perestroika could not save the Union from disintegration. Although there is divided opinion on his legacy, one should accept his role in the end of cold war and his unappreciated efforts to save the people reeling under an in-efficient socio-enconmic system, his untiring efforts to unite the union till the last, and his stoic refusal to quell rebellions in the republic. 

Tuesday, 27th of September, 2022

16 Saladi Jamindar Street, 

Palakollu

She

From the ages of the distant past, 

silently she rose and made her way. 

Words like daggers and actions like thorns 

just made the champion in her determined to stay!

 

Battles for an equal pie and a right to be acknowledged,

 - struggles that were fought within and without.

She wasn't a sacrificial lamb, rather a Tiger that pounced,

she's mundane and divine, obvious yet a mystery, without doubt. 

 

Emperors, Poets and singers rave about her beauty,

But was an honest effort ever made to understand her!?

She's a synonym of sacrifice and everything beautiful, 

a conqueror and a queen set to face an avalanche of challenges!

 

(To the women of our hearts and homes - you make us proud and happy every single passing day! Not just today being International Women's Day!)

 

  

Poem - "She" - on the eve of the International Women's Day 2022 -  Not surprisingly, the idea of an International Women's day has a global and leftist origin. At the dawn of the 20eth Century, it was the German delegates at a Socialist conference in USA who first proposed such an idea. Later, when USSR proclaimed and issued voting rights to women, the idea caught up as a concrete celebration. After the rise of the feminist movement in 1960s, in 1977, UN started celebrating March 8th as International Women's day. For the year 2022, the official theme of the event is 'Gender equality today for a Sustainable tomorrow.' The Governments of India and Andhra Pradesh took a slew of measures towards that lofty goal of Women Empowerment, still a distant dream, one that hinges on perception as well as ground reality.

Maheeth Veluvali,

Tuesday, 8th of March, 2022, 

16 Saladi Jamindar Street, Palakollu.

1971

 

Picture information and credits below

The ides of march brought ill tidings to us all, 

for we lament the East that's bleeding red;

while the politics of power was vested and small, 

behold the Bengal of yore, the beauty brutalized;

 

The western beacons of democracy went silent, 

and refugees set for the noble land as problems piled;

There was neither time nor space, every day's a torment;

A sinister ploy left our brains raked and our hearts riled.

 

Then in winter, we made the impossible possible, 

a team was set and everything's in place;

A defining moment of glory so indomitable, 

wherein bluffs were called and risks were taken.

 

From the sea at Karachi, amidst clouded skies over Calcutta,

crossing the Meghna and liberating Dhaka -

To those valiant many who fought and died, 

and to the people of the new nation, 

What a glorious victory was it, etched forever in loving memory!

 

Poem / Poetic Tribute (English) - 1971

Exactly 50 years ago this day, i.e, 16th of December 1971, the Third Indo-Pak war concluded with the surrender of Pakistani forces in the then East Pakistan, leading to the formation of Bangladesh. The poem is a tribute to the Indian martyrs and is a commemoration of the 50 year friendship between the nations of India and Bangladesh. 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indo-Pakistani_War_of_1971

Picture above - Lt Gen A A K Niazi signing the Instrument of Surrender under the gaze of Lt Gen J S Aurora (left), General Commander of the Indian and Bangladeshi Forces. 

Picture Credits - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pakistani_Instrument_of_Surrender

 

 

Maheeth Veluvali, 

16 Saladi Jamindar Street, Palakollu,

Thursday, 16th of December 2021.

India @ 75

Seventy Five years ago, our nation began her tryst with destiny,

with an echo of freedom that warmed few million hearts.

An era of despair and destruction ended emphatically;

but all's not good, for the new nation was already scarred.

 

Unified yet diverse, from the lofty Himalayas through the Gorgeous Ganges;

with bountiful plains and forests of yore, is a timeless ideal that seized the minds of men,

and lusted by traders and conquerors, this land of Bharatas;

Our India, an amalgamation of ideals and melting pot of cultures!

 

As we scan the annals of our glorious history, our chests fill with pride

at the supreme sacrifices of freedom fighters and nation builders,

And in the march of nations, ours is but a unique tale,

as we celebrate 75 years of freedom, wonder with what glorious tales of success the future beckons!

 

 

Poem (English) - "India @ 75" - On the eve of 75th Independence Day of India. 

 

Saturday, 14th of August, 2021,. 

Maheeth Veluvali,

16 Saladi Jamindar Street, Palakollu,.

Catharsis

(To whomsoever it may concern)

My World’s an ugly truth & your world’s a beautiful lie,

I knew I’d end up dejected no matter how hard I try!

How cruel and deceptive is reality, and how I assumed I was smart;

The dreams that I built got locked stoically in my heart.

Yesterday, when the cuckoo sang an ode to your beauty,

Then paling in your presence, the reddest Roses writhed in jealousy.

Me, a mundane creature lost in the travails of daily life,

How wrong for a mortal to gaze upon a Star so bright and right, it’s ripe for strife!

But the pains that I endured and the smiles that I generated

Would pale as I failed to conquer the one heart that mattered,

All the trysts we had and the hopes that I entertained,

Would all be shadows and dust in the fell clutch of feeling nothing.

But, Darling, consign all the melancholy and nostalgia to me,

As I look up to the heavens that are blessed with your charming grace.

In the lonely days and longing nights that follow, I smile and cry,

For the little things that mattered, the memories we made, pleasures even Gods couldn’t deny!

 

 

Poem - Catharsis

Maheeth Veluvali, 

16 Saladi Jamindar Street, Palakollu,.

Saturday - 15th of May, 2021.

Tribute to an unknown spy

"..At the risk of violating a cardinal rule of intelligence, it might also be the opportune moment to pay a silent tribute to one of the most outstanding secret agents of recent times, whose name and pseudonym will, however, have to remain a secret, but whose exploits were no less than that of the most celebrated spy of World War II, Richard Sorge."

- An article in The Hindu dated 26 April, 2021 by MK Narayanan, former director of Intelligence Bureau, (inter alia) paying tribute to an as yet unknown, classified spy who worked for India during the Bangladesh Liberation War of 1971. The poem is a tribute to the unknown spy.

 

 

Away from the glare of public, where false heroes rise and fall everyday,

bereft of the crazy romanticism that shatters focus in every way, 

what silent deeds committed by little men makes things work?

In the mundane shadows of daily life, what dangers lurk? 

Over the waters of Bay of Bengal, when the seventh fleet arrived with superb speed,

and Searchlight launched to destroy and bleed Bengal of the hoary past, 

Then, in those troubled times, a young nation rose with a unified voice, 

A game of skill and nerves of steel was played, nothing left to chance. 

 

O unknown spy, I bow to your service in troubled times, 

What scale could measure your worth, in an era of war crimes?

The greatest secret is better kept that way, the best hero is one unknown, 

and when the issues of nation matter, covers remained unlbown.

 

It is a grateful nation that offers tribute to you, 

It matters not what we speak, and what was due, 

It only mattered what you did there, however little and unsung, 

for those silent deeds of a spy made a difference and packed a sting.

 

 

Poem - "Tribute to an Unkown Spy" based on an article written by  MK Narayanan, former director of Intelligence Bureau, (inter alia) paying tribute to an as yet unknown, classified spy who worked for India during the Bangladesh Liberation War of 1971. 

Maheeth Veluvali, 

Monday - 26th of April, 2021,.

16 Saladi Jamindar Street, Palakollu,.

But, all alone I dreamed,

Way past midnight, I dreamed a dream that no one dared dream, 

as panic gave way for peace, there was no talk of the doom

for a hundred thousand oxygen tankers ran to the rescue of ailing ones,

But, all alone I dreamed, for dawn came damning millions  

Yesterday, I was a besotted hero, today I was barricaded by fate

A prisoner of my own thoughts, a pensioner of my testy past

The tonnes of fake news, disinformation failed to make me cry

But, all alone I dreamed, like a lake that's sunk, a river that's dry.

Way past midnight, when nightmares dominate, I dreamed a dream

Of a happy present, to live in the moment, a call for carpe diem.

behold, bliss beyond the scope of logic and filters of feelings...

But, all alone I dreamed, for I lost track of reality and it's trappings.

Pride of the pristine past? What good does it do to a raging heart?

Promise of a fabulous future? What comfort it gives to a restless mind? 
The tryst with destiny turned into a mirage of cruelty
But, all alone I dreamed, for that dream is a work of art, a true beauty!  

"But, all alone I dreamed," - Poem (English)

Maheeth Veluvali, 

Sunday - 25th of April, 2021

16 Saladi Jamindar Street, Palakollu,

An ode to her

The Sun rises after she rose, and then begins a battle with questions and perceptions, 

If only ambitions and dreams can be neatly packed like those lunch boxes.

While the scriptures of yore ordained respect for women, 

there was a shrill echo all around - "Respect? there shall be none."  

With or without the support of the near and dear, 

inch by inch, spaces were carved and niches were made.

Somewhere, A Satyabhama slew Narakasur, a Joan of Arc shook the British,

Elsewhere, A Mother Theresa served the poor, a Sudha Murthy taught and wrote with flourish.

 

Yet some other place, she remains unknown, a synonym of sacrifice from start to finish. 

Ignorant of the dumb stereotypes laid by dumber people all around her; she multitasks as a silent witness.

What noble thoughts emerge from her selfless mind, what great deeds are made by her everyday -

The words of the greatest poets couldn't fathom the depths of such love and affection, in any way!

 

Poem - "An ode to her" - on the eve of International Women's Day 2021 -  Not surprisingly, the idea of an International Women's day has a global and leftist origin. At the dawn of the 20eth Century, it was the German delegates at a Socialist conference in USA who first proposed such an idea. Later, when USSR proclaimed and issued voting rights to women, the idea caught up as a concrete celebration. After the rise of the feminist movement in 1960s, in 1977, UN started celebrating March 8th as International Women's day. For the year 2021, the official theme of the event is 'Women in leadership: Achieving an equal future in a COVID-19 World.' The Governments of India and Andhra Pradesh took a slew of measures towards that lofty goal of Women Empowerment, still a distant dream, one that hinges on perception as well as ground reality. 

Maheeth Veluvali,

Monday, 8th of March, 2021, 

16 Saladi Jamindar Street, Palakollu.

From Salary, with Love, to Petrol!

(My heart skipped a beat when I looked at the reading of the Petrol Bunk -  1.03 Litre(s) for Rs.100/-! This was how 'salary' reacted poetically to the growth of his beloved, unreachable and unapproachable 'petrol')

In the times of Fire and Wheel, ours is a tryst set by the masses;

Me, a middle class dreamer and you, the fantastic fuel of all classes!

A darling made dearer by the Arab Crisis and unknown higher levies,

and so, each passing day takes you away from my reach. 

 

Why so serious? Why so aloof and why so ambitious? 

Even the stars of the sky bow before my master's aspirations.

If only you knew how much of me you've taken and torn apart;

if only you'd come down once lest we be forced to take the ancient cart.

 

To gain your favor and seek your blessings, treaties are made and wars are fought..

Alas, I could make none, for I am a mere pawn trapped and caught. 

You grow and glow like a heartless giant, but I have a larger heart.

Heed to me and fall, my dear, and you will see for yourself, a connoisseur's art! 

(From Salary, with Love, to Petrol!)

Poem/Allegory - English

Maheeth Veluvali, 

Monday, 1st of March, 2021,.

16 Saladi Jamindar Street, Palakollu.

The Fall of Golconda

(In the late seventeenth century, 'Zindapir' Alamgir Aurangzeb, the Mughal Emperor finally conquered Qutub Shahi Sultanate after a prolonged and pyrhhic siege of Golconda, finally realizing the Century old fantasy of direct Mughal Imperial domination over Deccan, however short lived. In his own words after the fall of Golconda...)

 

Aurangzeb at Siege of Golconda - from A.Truschke's book

Day in and day out, the flames of ambition kept me alive, 

and the lust for conquest is a desire that made me thrive.

What disdain men had for me, despite me brimming with competence

and what mockery women made of me, when I simply abhorred the opulence!

 

O Proud Princes of the Deccan, look how I smashed your pride, 

as my Mansabdars and Musketeers persisted and tricked.

The Diamonds of Krishna are of no value to the Shahs of South, 

as my cannons chipped your fort, brick by brick, in a battle so foul!

 

When strength deserted my troops, I carried on and on and on, 

Patient and pious, yet I imposed my imperial will for a cause long forgone. 

In future, My travails and travels would be laughed upon,

But the legacy of the Great Mughals is not forlorn!

 

 

Poem - The Fall of Golconda 

Maheeth Veluvali, 

Friday, 29th of January, 2021.,

16 Saladi Jamindar Street, 

Palakollu,.

My twenty twenty

An year passed, and passed fast, a challenging and damning one, 

And it is time to take stock of my crushed dreams and betrayed hopes.

Like the wheels of Lord Jagannath's chariot, time marches on and on, 

and in it's great vortex, my emotions run dry without steam. 

 

With my condescending conscience, I fought new and bloody battles, 

and in an arena set for bloated egos, my bruised self respect stood unbowed.

When legends trembled and trolls laughed at my chances skittled, 

day in and day out, I showed up, and stood to face the Covid Dragon, unmoved.  

 

In Samalkot of the Winter's past, I got to speak at the blessed Lord's temple, 

And, new alliances forged and formed as new lessons were learnt from mistakes made. 

Few little crimes committed for many lofty elusive ideals, so elite and ample, 

matched those fleeting moments of pleasure that I always dreamt, but never had.

 

Battered by the banality of life, I sought refuge in solitude, 

caressed by the twilight of struggle, I was all at risk and not safe.

In books and dreams, I lived and died, I laughed and cried,

away from the scorched reality that offered no kiss of life. 

 

And twenty twenty, the year of vision that  turned rapidly into an unkept promise, 

made me rich and poor, cursed and blessed alike like the hero of The Thousand Hoods. 

What new joy and sorrow awaits me, what challenge turns me into a champion?

Well, towards 2021, I walk, a new sojourn with an old passion.  

Veluvali Maheeth, 

16 Saladi Jamindar Street, Palakollu, 

Thursday, 31st of December, 2020.