What is our purpose
on this Earth?
We are here to heal
Not do any harm
We are to love not hate
Our purpose is to create
At the same to time
Racism Discrimination
Bigotry War violence Rape
We can eradicate
Nobody is superior or inferior
Nobody owns the religion
Or for that matter
Dictate what to do
Nobody can coerce
Or bully anybody around
They are not going
“To “carry the cross”
Or sacrifice themselves on
The cross for you”
Wake up and smarten up
Use the power of reasoning
As you are the master of your fate
Captain of your soul
Stop having the herd mentality
Like “monkey see monkey do”
Fearful what people might say?
They will say it anyway
Society thrives on gossip
Just waiting to pounce
Have a spine & stand tall
So that Almighty will be there
When the” last Tear Drop Falls”
During this unprecedented time, as a leader, what new flavor of leadership have you allowed your flock of sheep to enjoy? Would love to hear your thoughts.
If Mahatma Gandhi
Dadabhoy Naoroji
As well Madam Cama
Hadn’t fought for freedom
Some you would not
Had the pleasure
Of practicing
Your principles of
Racism Discrimination
Bigotry as well Segregation
Bring about wreck and Ruin
Of this miniscule
Zarathoshti Community
If you think you
Are going to win
This race then you
Have misjudged
Ahura Mazda’s
Will power and grace
Next time when a
Pandemic or some
kind of virus hits humanity
Do not go crying
Beg & plead for his mercy
Or by doing humbandagis
Lighting Divos at agiaries
He too can be deaf ears
No amount of pleading
Even when one
Is on bended knees
Will ever change His mind
So respect his
Pristine Teachings
That is meant
For all human kind
Choicest Happiness
Farida
Ps Feed back please
Successful people know that it is important to actively listen to those who have different ideas and opinions and that getting trapped in their own way of thinking is easy, but limiting. Therefore, they also know that must test their plans, observing Aldo Paoli
A poem to mark the first day of our Mukhtaad or Fravardegan days.
(I first wrote it in the year 2017).
…………….
Do you look back at me
When I look at your silver vase?
Do you smell the flowers
I bring so lovingly on all ten days?
Those flowers so remind me of you
Vibrant, fragrant and fresh!
Those divas so remind me of you
Ever so bright and warm to feel
Not a day goes by
That I don’t think of you
But, these ten days bring fresh hope
Of your refreshing presence
I go to your table expecting a response
To the pointless questions I can’t get across.
Sometimes in my mind I forget that you’re dead
Because I keep you living in my mind
I love you so much
It makes me sad
I can’t hear you say it back
The one thing that would make me so glad!
Award-winning Author Murzban F. Shroff Pens Pandemic Poetry Series
Mumbai-based author Murzban F. Shroff, known for his award-winning books, Breathless in Bombay, Waiting for Jonathan Koshy, and Fasttrack Fiction, has now penned a series of poems on the Covid-19 pandemic, tracking its causes and consequences. Shroff, a Commonwealth Prize-shortlisted author and a 6-times Pushcart Prize nominee, says he turned to poetry in order to capture the intensely emotional and psychological states created by these extraordinary circumstances. “The purpose of literature is to bring man in closer contact with nature, to expand our understanding of the universal laws that govern us, and which we are bound to obey by mere virtue of having taken birth on this planet. I found poetry to be a liberating and powerful medium to convey this,” adds Shroff. “The Lockdown Blues” (below) is part of a series of poems that will feature in Shroff’s debut collection of poetry. Shroff’s stories have appeared in over 65 literary journals in the U.S., UK, and Australia. He has been invited to speak about his work at universities like UC Berkeley, UCLA, and USC, and at literary festivals like the London Short Story Festival, the Emirates Literature Festival, and the Irrawaddy Literary Festival in Myanmar. Shroff can be contacted on murzbanfshroff@gmail.com
The Lockdown Blues
This is the winter of our confinement
This is the spring of our unease
This is the summer of our expectations
The fall of our species
This is the weakness of our senses
This is the outcome of our greed
This is the collapse of our intellect
The negation of our needs
This is the night of our darkness
This is the prison of our morrows
This is the cumulus of our burden
The song of our sorrows
This is what we brought our world to
Conquering land and sea and sky
Not for a moment did we pause
Thinking where our limits lie
We robbed the earth of its beauty
And we drained the soil of its strength
We blew off the tops of mountains
We were so hellbent
We did not spare the rocks
And we did not spare the trees
We even dammed our rivers
Before they could reach the seas
We did not spare the seabed
And we did not spare the air
We did not think of the species
With whom our planet we share
And now we live in solitary caves
Nothing to show for our wealth
Worrying about our future
Uncertain about our health
Do I have the virus?
Do I show the signs?
Will I make it safely
Make it through these times?
Will we live like humans?
And will we roam at will?
Or will we experience life
Standing at our window sill?
Will we live off our phones
And our flat-faced computer screens?
Will we know once more
What real freedom means?
Will we rub shoulders?
And will we feel the same?
Will we ever hug
And learn to trust again?
— Murzban F. Shroff
As published in the Parsi Times E-Paper Dated 4 July 2020.