Whispers of the forgotten

We have been sent to this planet with a promise

That every moment the memory of divine source,we will never miss

We will not forget that being part of the eternity

Only for a transit phase,we have to stay on this

The moment we take birth in human form

We remain involved in worldly tasks to perform

Never ever the committed vow comes to our mind

Unless someone awakens our soul purpose and reminds

No doubt whispers of forgotten keep whispering in our ears

As the existence of the supreme in each soul is infact very near

But we get completely lost in performing our worldly chores

That the path to return back remains unclear

We all have hidden powers like Lord Hanumaan

All we need is someone who make us aware

The path to the divine light is covered with many layers

It is only by unveiling one after another,the source becomes clear

Daily meditation reminds us of our forgotten identity

That cladded in human form,we are infact a soul

It is only by merging back in our separated origin

Our existence gets completed as a whole

Anu Gupta

Jammu

Brave New Classroom

I stand before the rows of chairs,

Faces glow with projector light glares.

The mic hums its weary tune,

And I speak to silence in the room.

The syllabus sells what hearts once sought,

Each grade achieved, each conscience bought.

The library waits, its shelves unseen,

While profits rule where thought has been.

They come not to learn, but just to pass,

To chase a mark, to fill a class.

The mind once wild is trimmed, confined,

A product made for some design.

Their eyes stay fixed on glowing screens,

Lost somewhere deep in online dreams.

I quote Eliotbut none reply,

Their voices lost, like mine, nearby.

They call learning an "education plan,"

And wisdom just a "human brand."

I teach of truth, they ask for scores -

The grade sheet now my metaphor.

Once I could light a spark, a flame,

Now it's attendance that I claim.

Each lecture feels like speaking slow

To minds too young to want to know.

Still, I return each morning new,

To teach because I still see a few -

A thought, a spark, however small,

That makes this fight worth it all.

And if they ask me why I stay,

I'll simply smile and say,

Even here, where learning is sold,

A single spark is still worth gold.

Dr Manvi Sharma

Jammu