THERE'S NO PARADISE AND OTHER SELECTED POEMS

THERE’S NO PARADISE and Other Selected Poems Tanka and  Haiku

                                   --Ram Krishna Singh

      

                             ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The tanka and haiku sequences in their present form appear for the first time, even as certain individual tanka and haiku constituting them may have appeared in print and/or online journals such as Sarasvati (Leicestershire), Cholla Needles (California), Still (London), The Journal of Indian Writing in English (Gulbarga, India), Poetcrit (Maranda, India), Haiku Novine (Yugoslavia/Serbia),   Ko (Nagoya, Japan), Lynx, Syndic Literary Journal, and Beneath the Rainbow. Acknowledgement is due to their editors.

Further, the editors of the following print and online journals and anthologies also published some of the poems, including haiku and tanka, presented here: Creative Forum (New Delhi), Cyber Literature (Patna), Triveni (Hyderabad), Indian Book Chronicle (Jaipur), Prophetic Voices (Novato, CA), Moongate de Homo Sentiens (New Mexico, USA), Amber (Dartmouth, Canada), La Pierna Tierna (Philadelphia), Xizquil(NM,USA), Haiku Harvest(Baltimore), Cotipora Cultural (Brazil),  Asahi Haikuist Network/The Asahi Shimbun(Tokyo), Haiku in English: The Mainichi(Tokyo), 23 Samobor Haiku Meeting(Croatia), 24 Samobor Haiku Meeting (Croatia), 25 Samobor Haiku Meeting (Croatia), World Poetry: 1994 (Seoul), World Poetry: 1995 (Seoul), Better Than Starbucks, Wales Haiku Journal, Wild Plum, Life and Legends, Scryptic:Magazine of Alternative Art and Literature, The Bamboo Hut, Failed Haiku, Simply Haiku, Akita International Haiku Network, Protexto, Cliterature Journal, and Poetry Festival.

                   For  Janhavi  & Vaishnavi my grand daughters

CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Poems:

1.     Sweet Savors

2.     Nirvana

3.     Burial

4.     Now

5.     Chain

6.     Song of Songs

7.     Rainbow

8.     God, Sex and the World

9.     Closed Eyes

10.                        Hope of Divinity

11.                        Temptation

12.                        Designs

13.                        Luxury

14.                        Angelic Magic

15.                        There’s No Paradise

16.                        Life’s Strange Relation

17.                        Creativity

18.                        New Dawn

19.                        Moth

20.                        Smallness

21.                        There’s No Third Day

22.                        Harassment

23.                        Lies

24.                        The Ride to Return

25.                        Bangalore

26.                        Threat

27.                        Death of Desire

28.                        Rootless

29.                        Warning

30.                        Achche Din

31.                        Gourmet Journey

32.                        Nemesis

33.                        Hazy Vision

34.                        Existence

35.                        A Father’s Complaint

36.                        Let It Go

37.                        Blood Moon

38.                        Persona Non Grata

39.                        Me Too

40.                        Profile

41.                        Tanka

42.                        Love: A Tanka Sequence

43.                        I’m No River: A Tanka Sequence

44.                        Waves: A Haiku Sequence

45.                        Haiku

About the Poet

1.     SWEET SAVORS

Strayed far from the nest

I’m fed up living with dust

for years fleeting shade

bereft

of melody

of spirit I sink to

the hades of utter loss

I can’t

reckon hidden mysteries

I have lost the sea

for a mere cupful

void of patience and

peace now as I touch the breasts

of the field I crave

for a pure breath

native to

my being I search

sweet savors

of love

2.     NIRVANA

Hours of silence

and a lot of walks:

no facile words

no touchiness

no paranoia

no pilgrimage

but chanting within

through the declining day

the inner acoustics

on a hilltop

no cloudy incantation:

gasp for nirvana

3.     BURIAL

I want to burn the fallen leaves

but fear the flame will hurt the trees

I can’t stand the stench rains bring

the backyard is too big to clean

I can’t rescue my habitat

nor trim the trees for better light

this all reflects the shambles made

for disco of convenience

why regret burial by

taunting helplessness now

4.     NOW

My time is now

the day of salvation

where is Father?

playing patty cake?

I sit a potted plant

and wait at the doorstep

tumbling sun and shade

5.      CHAIN

I do not write the sun, storm or sea

but re-create myself and others

in verses turn time or pluck some stars

to find my ways through masked trenches

witness to my sinking into mud

that curves the memories into bias

disgrace dust, sky, wind, all relations

window of emotions I must chain

to breathe a pure breath without passion

and discover essence of beauty

spring a move toward self harmony

perfection and peace, prelude to nude

enlightenment to carve life in full

6.     SONG OF SONGS

I’m true in my element

begotten of earth

hungry to mate with sky:

seek me in song of songs

in kisses that he and she

rehearse on way to bed

the voluptuous squeezes

fulfillment of godly

and bodily promises

7.     RAINBOW

They color their hair

paint their faces to look younger

then speak aged lies

to emulate rainbows but stare

into the sky to find

which color follows which

before melding into one

they wonder what to do

with beige and indigo shades

that stick their vision

8.     GOD, SEX AND THE WORLD

It’s part of prayer

to have the lingam kissed

or kiss it to feel

the creator’s pulse

for a moment

thank the body too

that houses the spirit

we seek in His name

for relief and salvation

through the cycle

of day and night

meeting and departing

learning and unlearning

each moment synthesizing

god, sex and the world

9.      CLOSED EYES

The faces appearing

and receding in

the darkness of closed eyes

don’t answer why

they aren’t winged souls

fading in the sun

I emptied before it set

in the gowns of girls

stopped from dancing bare foot:

they shake autumn in the rain

mist blurs the image

water spills in shady pool

10.            HOPE OF DIVINITY

The falsity of the sky is more real than the earth’s

lies can’t sustain hope of divinity

we have complicated with poesying

private hells to mitigate flow of time

that couldn’t carve  heaven: we harbor histories

of broken promises and fallen gods

lament men and women buried in light

now soulless, bodiless,  traceless we look

upward and whittle continents from clouds

hanging generations that may never be

11.             TEMPTATION

Again the stone-cool city

frightens the oval existence

downward in black moment

swamps of labor will vanish

in fume I see no prayers:

who can hope to dial new angels

when most have turned cubist cock

rivaling small spooks underground

tempting vulgar   feats with awnings?

12.            DESIGNS

Variously hued

neo-knights knock voters’ doors

search the holy grail

howling, trolling, abusing

baying for blood, lynching, rape

exposing designs

for new history, geography

and deity in mosques

set right blunders they didn’t write

reclaim rights they always had

13.             LUXURY

The framed-in-glass paper goddess

watches me pee in the one-room apartment

vastu experts blame for bad luck

they defecate or rape hundreds

in the open no god sees and none find fault:

cons love luxury of advice

             

14.             ANGELIC MAGIC

Luck awaits me

if I could buy it from

her miracles stores

she gives me three dates

for her call to reach

the higher cosmic forces

she dreams me stand

in the middle of a

tree-lined park

against saffron flowers

flashes of light focus

on my serene face

the shower of gold tempts

a being of light descends

I’m offered a new life

divine abundance

defeat of enemies

and stream of love

if I could pay

for her rituals of

angelic magic

15.             THERE’S NO PARADISE

The fog in mirror

slips by damp towel

cold sets in slippy hands

rain flows on windows

black water crawls down

like diseased reptiles

why scrub the smelly

underbellies

there’s no paradise

16.             LIFE’S STRANGE RELATION

The mind is put off

before the act blood lets down:

it’s end before beginning

how can touch be erotic

with cold copulars

in drunken gibberish?

they all chant their own

equations through grooves of night

trick weeds of ideas

life’s strange relation:

words belong to all

but deeds to a few

17.             CREATIVITY

The hole between words is vaginal

if the mind could penetrate

the seed won’t question age

inside the lines it crackles

with orgasmic pleasure

meanders through the tunnel

from first breath to oblivion

stays erect, liberates the text

18.            NEW DAWN

I love the night with you

when sleepless we yield

to passions of the body

tugging the nagging divine

in the mind ageing fears melt

and dry between the sheets

for a new dawn to set in

19.             MOTH

I gave you my love

what more do you seek

to lighten the night

my beloved

let the fire burn

and consume the moth

                    

20.             SMALLNESS

I live in a crowd of fakes

smallness rises with age

my mind has ceased to think

new metaphors hardly happen

hunger keeps me awake all night

I mitigate minginess

inner lives are emptied

and filled with fresh stresses

too many fault lines run through

to make sense of the divide

my passion itches and prompts

I nuzzle the virtual too

it’s the same virus replicating

the same hackers that hurt

the vigor and rigor of

the new, left or pushed behind

whatever the remedy

wounds take deaths to heal

21.             THERE’S NO THIRD DAY

Nestled between smog and dust

my church faces a collapse

beyond miracle: I can’t

stand up to resurrection

there’s no third day for my soul

no third eye for Shiv in me

God is too old to revive

the rhythm that was my once

I’m now defaced, mired in scams

constantly raped and buried

in chaos of abundance

hope and unanswered prayers

in journey through  crevices

love convulsions and faith shops

22.             HARRASSMENT

Weinstein looked for

creative friction in sex

she always sought

non-procreative sex

in life and business

they condemn both

23.             LIES

No odysseys

under water or space—

retreat within

writing poetry in bed

confronting words to evade

the dead or dying

timidity of body

its libidinal romps

and circuitous lies

24.             THE RIDE TO RETURN

The ride in the car

from airport to back home:

my belly swings

the puke is too much too quick

the day ends in head with what

I’d take to get well

erase memories

of love’s pace in an

ever burning house

dog-earing pages

of the fragile world I wrote

and caught myself

again and again

gaze through the darkened space

decay with aged trees

25.             BANGALORE

No walkways:

food vendors line up

with pushcarts and vans

techies throng with backpack

bike and friends

deal with digital touch

mobile eateries

overwhelm footpaths:

remnants of chilli fish

chicken curry, biryani

nan, uttapam, dosa

and whatnot add to

sensory chaos

what if pedestrians

snake through killing pace

of traffic on footpaths

Bangalore is colorful

and affordable too

26.             THREAT

We chase myths in self-made Amazon

fish turtles that change color in new waters

we create landscape of nightmares and wade through

anacondas that threaten our confidence

lost in the jungles of our own making

we beat about thorny grasses now

look for the twin flames for convenience

cloud judgment and reality for control

challenge the Republic and divide

the defense that could never be

27.            DEATH OF DESIRE

Evening walk:

a peep into my own

lanes and bylanes

bodily harmony

a sense of inner calm

soon disturbed

by TV debates, news

and serials

over sliced apple, snacks

and distorted wholeness

before retiring

swallow pills to mitigate

her rising hackles

that walk me through to death

of desire for love in bed

28.            ROOTLESS

Hidden from the eyes of others

I was made in secret

but can’t remember my birth

from foetus in the womb

to severing of the cord

erased the memory

now rootless in the valley

fading sensations of years

pierce the darkling wings of

world wide web that blob my being

twisted and tangled, brushed

away like a fly hate mongers

hash tag my creation

pirouetting platitudes

29.            WARNING

Between midnight and three

I babble images

my grandson fears to hear

and kicks me in bed, warning

if I don’t keep quiet

he won’t sleep with me

30.            ACHCHE DIN

For divine bliss in the morning

they call out cows to feed rotis        

then chase them away from the gate

for fear of  smelly holy shit

the whole day their game of redemption

through achche din* in holes screaming

minced onion in the eyes and

ready to rob the cerement

from bodies buried by strangers

raising new slogans on sunset

*better days

31.             GOURMET JOURNEY

To win elections

they sponsor chaos chanting

Modi, Modi

kill tongues that utter dissent

or oppose foolishness

in the name of Ram

cow, love jehad, reform

close all windows

making dysfunctional

the holy Constitution

with small deities

watching periodic tango

pop up dinners

global collaboration

in newer territories

without money pouring in

dreams rise and sell

feet forward, mind backward

relishing lies of

gourmet journey

32.             NEMESIS

The deities are dumb

so they speak

louder and louder

vie with each other

for godhood

descend from mosque-top

to Supreme Court

now await

resurrection

33.             HAZY VISION

Rheumatic walking

in crippling lumbar crisis

they pity and pass

the waiting sun

at the naked tree’s corner

my hazy vision

managing to survive

with repair and maintenance

ageing road

revives the dying nerves

her momentary smile in sleep—

I walk again

34.            EXISTENCE

Strolling in the alley

he watches the road turn drain:

it was dry till she came

now it’s dust and smoke

muddy and toxic

day in and day out

he breathes in poison:

listens to a dying sparrow

near the gutter

midwinter the rising sun

drives him to Seroflo

and manage his restlessness

35.            A FATHER’S COMPLAINT

How can I contain
her destructive energy
she conceals what she is
her toxic attitude

they all see
as she unshapes destiny
of her cornpone plots
in elitist mode

she lets down her own folks
with mendacious fabrications
brings doom to her own children
who were born innocent

brings shame to her husband
who seeks to see them rise

brings dishonor to us all
who hope to see her change
despite the vanity wall
she raised for years

she won't know what to do
when her parents are dead
or even we are no more

she can't even weep
or scream on anything she touches

she may then squiggle in her fate
alone in a lonely room
while others may look and not care

36.             LET IT GO

Silent gaze of paper deities

from the little temple

in a corner in bedroom

fills me with hope:

anything may happen anytime

despite uncertainty

unending jealousy

or tragedy in life

I look for grace within

contemplating the unsaid

in the rhymes of rogues and heroes

I’m not afraid of

the body in crumbled soil

there’s always another chance

to re-form my own present

re-write another half-page

in drunken oblivion

God is going to let it go

37.             BLOOD  MOON

Waking to a morning

tainted with prayers

on the toilet seat

nude nature waves to a dull sun

smitten by the night’s long eclipse

38.            PERSONA NON GRATA

Feeling sick with sensory poisoning

and the rising malaise is the black bile

I ooze, do nothing but unweave

the mind lost in emotional memories

and body in the swirl of sensations

sweating the cancerous stress, meander

through the nerve pathways, the fleeting shadows

the vague silhouettes, the colors in dark

rise to make me naked in bed

and I yell expletives in half-sleep

without knowing the pragmatics of response:

I hate the odor of my urine

and the cycles of rectal bleeding

no video game but frustrating

invading the mind and memories

susceptible to viral infection

medicines or no medicines I must

escape the empty wreck piled within

lest the body’s hormones system explode

and the balance without is disturbed

making me persona non grata

39.            ME TOO

I hate to end up

an anonymous failure

repeating the routine

exploring the others

reviewing what is not

there should be time for me too

to turn the leaves between orgasms

the fleeting moments of poems

and the whole lot of deaths

40.             PROFILE

I don't know who shops my books

or cares for sexy and wholesome

for the time I showed up first

I haven't made any money

transcending decades and not

belonging to back-scratchers

or goody-goody poetic

academia and press

trying not to seem better, or sell

I have stayed bold and alone

a work in progress perhaps

even without audience here

or maybe, I simply don't fit

the politics of writing now

but long after I'm dead

buried or burnt to ashes

I may rise again

a tiny phoenix mapped in

fresh DNA of silence

from google's graveyard

41.            TANKA

Stars on the earth

these glow worms I want to clasp

into hands and

offer to God as flowers

of my first obeisance

the wine of love swells

in my vessel dark shadows

recede human dirt

between sound and silence greets

the joy and bliss of spirit

love's spirit descends

and melds into her body

lending it new life:

I'm amazed how the unknown

becomes one with her beauty

full blue moon

divine channel from heavens

illuminating

arrival of Easter Sunday

and April, the angel month

a serpent twists

its head to face a dragon

on her shoulder:

their tails on breasts in water

swirl to cleanse my kiss on skin

intruding

the darkness of bedroom

a tree’s silhouette:

she whispers its masked presence

and says no to making love

tears dry up

leaving no marks where her pain

ends and mine begins

on the face makeup damp

with aching sweat and cold sighs

frozen

in the icy wind

my fingers

she fears the chill

on her cheeks

I thought I would make

tea for her but she was sleeping

I didn't wake up

our back faced each other

once again cold birthday

smallness of the small

no sharing half-chewed betel--

mischievous whisper

in bed fuzzy sensation

of ruddy lips that's no love

the tenuity

of her story like hearing

my own confession

without the priest I wonder

if I knew my true voice

wearied winter

each night bed a living grave:

drying breathing passage

and lonely shadows

delaying disaster

November morning—

too many thorns to reach

the only rose

and the tormenting thought

that I am forsaken

too small to explore

the sea of the unknown:

island existence

breathing hell of darkness

dreading hungry excursions

source of salvation

depository of sins

no cake cutting

in church promise of reaping

if we sow recovery seed

in the white of night

sighs for supreme delight

steal tender pleasure

manipulating wetness

in bed unmask simple sin

her name

a soothing music

in the mouth:

I forget the pain in back

I seek the sky in silence

unhappy

with how I look and

feel right now

seek a best version

and just look within

no one knows

when the sun will be clouded

or when it will rain

in Ramdhura

women and weather one

last night’s rain

paves way for a clear sky

this morning

the breeze is cool and the sun

adds a new hue to the spring

a tidal wave

touches the shore to wipe

my naked footprints

and leaves behind some shells

pebbles and memories

near the railway track

she squats with hands on her knees

and hides her parts

in half-dark the naked truth

transforms nature into nude

half-painting:

palette and easel

collect dust

in the studio

pained silence of mother

dreams puzzling

smallness of waking

I can't live

the child's circumcision

promise of happiness

turns off the mood

for prayer in the park

smelly underarm

of a fellow walker

running to reduce weight

choking air

in a walled colony:

two tired pigeons

perch on overhead tank

whisper pity on us

island of rubbish

home to cows, mosquitoes

and homeless mothers

speak wordlessly passersby

unzip to ease and move

the snail of traffic

near red light bikes zig-zag

on broken footpaths

at Bannerghatta Road

pedestrians seek safe refuge

health horoscope

planetary conspiracy:

rectal bleeding

not healing for months recur

backache with dying libido

unemptied

the cup of remorse--

begging bowl

before the dumb deity

years of noisy silence

visit Vinayak

each day new prayers inside

years old faces

at the threshold hit their heads

the dumb deity stays unmoved

earthy body

and nightness of silence

fear in mirror

return to the river

echoing hollowed sound

when change comes

things change they say--

sight beyond sight

in the wealthy vacuum

all is well with limping days

42.            LOVE: A Tanka Sequence

On the roof top

she waits for her man with

 moon cake and lantern:

a flash of silver showers

on the mist-shrouded figure

raising

her hard drink

heavenward:

to my man, lover of

animals, soft in sex

she stoops low

to the bottom shelf

in black jeans

her curves flattering and

red lace groping her hips

a tress of hair

she drops over the mole

on her forehead

thinking it’s ugly and

hides her own gazelle eyes

the beads of sweat

on her breasts do not touch

her years or face

in candle light her shadow

is more restrained than my thought

shaped like a bird

a drop of water lands

on her breast:

my breath jumps to kiss it

before her pelvic flick

it’s not ageing

but eternal delight:

she under me

smooth belly, nude necking

slow stroking parting flesh

I love her undress

the light with eyes that spring

passion with kisses

she leaves her name again

for my breath to pass through

she undresses in

dim light perfumes her body

fills room with herself:

we hit the hay together

drowning in each other

the chilly twilight—

tossing leaves and branches

tell of the wind

before sunrise she and  I

cross-legged, cling to each other

making love

she tastes the salt

upon my shoulder

in the afternoon I pound

like surf into her flesh

the wind lifts

her curved nudity hidden

in the water curtain:

I touch the strings that whisper

love in each falling drop

a happier image

with salubrious top

turns rapturous

as she tamps her love

with watery lipstick

love’s spirit descends

and melds into her body

lending it new life:

I’m amazed how the unknown

becomes one with her beauty

43.            I’M NO RIVER: A Tanka Sequence

The sun couldn’t help
nor fish protest:
river has no sex
so it dried up
trapped in its own banks

the otter watches
a duck walking on
the frozen river
icicles drop bit by bit
from a lone tree

at the river bank
she folds her arms and legs
resting her head
upon her knees and sits
as an island

I couldn’t understand
what’s Hindu about having
fish and onion
after prayers by the river
in the temple courtyard

I’m no river
flowing toward the sea:
I must find my way
asking strangers in strange places
sensing soul, using insight

44.            WAVES: A Haiku Sequence

Setting sun

leaves behind sparkle

on the waves

parabolic hue

through the cloudy morning:

wrinkling river

the sun rolls

on the waving Ganges

whitens love hope

blinding fog

and cloud of darkness--

river waves

waves of mist shine

with sun the day resumes

laughter shakes each bough

sea waves

roll from far away

white peaks

counting sand

between the toes

a dying wave

her name

written on the sand:

wave breaks

travelling back

from the waves of bliss

a foam-leap

45.            HAIKU

year’s first  snowfall

prediction of early spring—

sakura buds

winter holidays

my son chases butterflies

flower to flower

workplace:

wandering hands

my knees intact

wandering

in  a grey land

thick fog

a red globe

rises at dawn:

waving corn

a sleeping snake

curled between the eggs—

layers of leaves

awake

alone on  the house top

a sparrow

taking a nap

on oranges in his shop—

a fruit vendor

                            

meditating

 in the morning sun—

 his long shadow

the village pond—

waiting for her arrival

with a baited hook

in their webs

spiders racing to spin

their meatless prey

height of the day:

shadows chasing shadows

ghosting dates

hitching up the skirt

she fills her pockets with

unripe mangoes

smell of fish

in his apple juice bottle—

costermonger

knee-deep in the pond

awaits fresh catch to buy milk

for the new-born

pumpkin for dinner

she rues my preparation—

devil’s shit

waking up

gloves ready for the catch –

unclaimed light

dressing up

for the blessing:

money presence

crowded waiting hall

fleshly warmth with smelly clothes:

midnight train still late

on the footbridge

an old beggar spreads

her cardboard bed

camouflaged

her soft fall on bed—

dappled back

cursing love

with freak abandon

lain and lifted

in my path

a monkey wrench—

destiny

lonely hilltop

looking for lavity—

emerald full moon

crescent night

she keeps the flame alive

unstilled smile

her leaning head

from night to deathless light—

chemotherapy

a touch of fire

in inner privacies:

the will to live

darkness of the heart

bouts of quiet clashes:

midnight oracle

cleaning the remains

of burnt out earthen lamps—

dusky temple yard

walking alone

lost in a different world—

head cernuous

night ends

in nakedness—

lonely bed

touching her tattoos

in the darkness of mirror

moon from the window

ice cream

melting on her lips—

senses flood

a night wolf

chomps the leftovers—

teeth in moon

swimming with the wave

stuck in the loop in water:

wisps of memory

unable to map

on the face where her pain ends

and mine begins

she looks ahead

after years of heart-bleed:

harvest moon

chilly stillness

mist of my breath

blue Monday

stands the house

unmoved on the rock—

tornado

coming out

a slip with zero—

ATM

paid followers

hitting with vile messages:

panic attack

post truth or fake news

hates odor of his urine—

self-invented lies

life expires

taking care of self—

clever delusion

hovering my head

luck-stealing spirits—

golden moon

fishing peace

in the inner sea—

solitude

after the discourse

beer and biryani in lunch—

Happy Drinksgiving

prayer book

covering the glass—

his last drink

Copyright: Ram Krishna Singh

ABOUT THE POET

Ram Krishna Singh, born, brought up and educated in Varanasi (Uttar Pradesh, India), has been writing poetry in English for about four decades. He has authored over 160 academic articles, 170 book reviews, and 44 books. His recent collections of poems include I Am No Jesus And Other Selected Poems, Tanka and Haiku (English/Crimean Tatar, Romania, 2014), You Can’t Scent Me and Other Selected Poems(New Delhi, 2016), God Too Awaits Light(California, 2017) and Growing Within (English/Romanian, Romania, 2017).  

Widely published and anthologized, and appreciated for his tanka and haiku, R.K. Singh’s poems have been translated into several languages, including Japanese, Greek, Italian, German, French, Spanish, Chinese, Portuguese, Romanian, Crimean Tatar, Bulgarian, Russian, Slovene, Croatian, Farsi, Arabic, Serbian, Esperanto, Hindi, Punjabi, Kannada, Tamil, and Bangla.

His awards and honors include Ritsumeikan University Peace Museum Award, Kyoto, 1999, Certificate of Honor and Nyuusen Prize, Kumamoto, 2000 and 2008, Life time Achievement Award of the International Poets Academy, Chennai, 2009, Prize of Corea Literature, South Korea, 2013, Naji Naaman’s Literary Prize, Lebanon, 2015, and nomination for Pushcart Prize, 2013, 2014.

Known as an Indian English poet, haikuist and ELT/EST practitioner, Dr Singh retired in 2016 as Professor  at Indian Institute of Technology--Indian School of Mines, Dhanbad (India). More at: https://profrksingh.wordpress.com   https://rksinghpoet.blogspot.in  and https://pennyspoetry.wikia.com/wiki/R.K._Singh

  ISBN-13: 978-6202292474Publisher: Éditions Muse (April 3, 2019)