Poetic Delicacies from Mauritius

Anoucheka Sweety Gangabissoon

Tangled in vines swirling in a typhoon

The woman – child dances blindly

Ecstatic at everything life promises her:

Warmth, comfort, Queen title,

Giving her the impression that the world

Is a fluffy playground and that the smiles she carries

Shall always remain the same

But she knows not when and how the typhoon

Crosses the oceans merely to land her

On new lands, where her smiles have to be earned

She is now woman, no longer child

And life plays another symphony for her,

Most of time laden with sad notes

So much that everything is no more given

On a golden platter

The protection she received when she was yet a child

Now plays a scary game of hide and seek with her

Its rules are clear;

Should she lose her steps, should she forget to look ahead

She will be subject to a life lived upon sheer pretense

The smile she carried upon her face turned into tears

Then into screaming agonies in the middle of the night

Then into silent submission while waiting for the typhoon

To land her somewhere where she shall get that which

She could not find anywhere while she lived on Earth

And which caused her to agonize at all times:-

R-E-S-P-E-C-T !

Dovishka Muskaan Shaib

Eski to Konner, eski to realizer,

La verite ki devan to lizier,

Lizour p kassiet, Sitant li p touffer,

La nuit p éloigner, Sitant li pas respirer,

Mais kot nous soley, Mais kot nous ban pier,

Couper ranzer, Pou fer la monnai,

Piocher azordi, demain to pou gagner,

Azordi lever ranzer, Touzour pou la monnai

Mais nou nepli get soley, Nou nepli respirer,

Nou nepli écouter, nou nepli riyer,

Telma nou engazer, Telma nou ranzer,

Mais kot nous soley, Mais kot nous ban pier,

Kan nou pou riyer, kan nou pou respirer,

Azordi nou in oublier, demain p faire nou rever,

Ouver to lizier, respirer, kot Konner,

Demain na pa kav realiser,

Azordi aussi to kapav rever.

You have one life, be yourself, who knows that you being too much is the light of someone else.

Jeewansing Ramlugun

You were right here, wistfully

it will be recalled,

at the crux of history,

having been an anxious time back

then , now in peace settled,

no conscience to rack,

the once dire days remembered

dignifiedly, from tribulations resiled,

an unflashy fishing village

succeeding in putting its stamp

on the world heritage map;

all benign and peaceable

it is an imposing , statuesque place

where all would seem to be so well,

sea and sand for disportments;

for a glorious time

you are warmly welcome

to sojourn even if briefly,

amid so much in the topography

that is ecstatically dramatic,

the angular grandeur

of the peaks, notably the iconic

Le Brabant: you would have merged

here into one singular splendour.

©Jeewan Ramlugun

19 June 2025

Jeewan Ramlugun BSc. MSc. CFCIPD FCMI FRSA.

Poet, Academic Researcher/Writer ,African Development Advisor.

Poetry Publications:

Wellsprings: Poems of Life & Nature( 323 pages, UK, 2010).

Poetry from Paradise ( 108 pages, Mauritius, 2010).

Bushy Park: A Collection of Poems( 221 pages, UK, 2015).

Mother & Memories( 110 pages, Mauritius,2022).

Hornbeam Dreams: A Collection of Poems( 182 pages, India, 2023).

My previous publications:

Wellsprings: Poetry of Life & Nature
Poetry from Paradise
Mother and Memories
Bushy Park: A Collection of Poems

Published in :
Mauritius Caught in a Dream
An Anthology of Surrey Poets

Fellow of the Mauritius Institute of Directors.
Longstanding Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts
Honorary African Capacity Building Consultant
An academic researcher and writer.

Dovishka Muskaan Shaib

Sometimes I close my eyes,

Or hide under smiles,

They call me shy,

While my friend aside,

Looks up the skies,

And talks to the clouds,

As winds ride,

Two tunes apart,

Yet our hearts,

Seem to,

Sing the right lines,

They call me mad,

Sometimes wild,

I burn fires and ash,

While thunder and lights,

Breathe along my side,

They call me mad,

Sometimes bad, sometimes wild,

Meanwhile my friend,

Weeps and cries,

Pink all the time,

That kind, we call,

Once in a while

Yet our hearts,

Seem to,

Sing the right lines,

Our hearts,

Seem to sing the right lines,

Holding hands tight,

Keeping minds alive,

Making the best times.

You have one life, be yourself, who knows that you being too much is the light of someone else.

Anoucheka Gangabissoon

Cold winds
Void whispers
Silence in the shadows

A world relying on forgiveness
Hatred brings suffering
Separation comes without being heeded
And our paths are to be walked, alone

Cold winds
Unageing sceneries
Empty hands
Flames which burn for eternity

Moods swell
Comfort in the goddess
Temporary world
The stars hide and laugh at us

Cold winds
Cold hearts as well
Words forced back
Let’s plunge in dreams
Pools of amnesia

Life is just a dream

Dovishka Muskaan Shaib

Smile in your eyes but pain in mine,

How could you do this crime,

Tears grieving cries,

Heart, voice and eyes,

Seeking light and rights,

How could you do this crime,

Yesterday’s smile,

Impaired a piece of my life,

I miss how,

I used to call my mother,

Because you were unkind,

I miss how,

I used to see my mother,

Because you were unkind,

An act that made you smile,

For me was a crime,

Erased my heart, erased my light,

Can it be forgiven, should it be forgiven,

A sentence that resides in my mind,

Yet forgiving this crime,

Is a sin in disguise.

You have one life, be yourself, who knows that you being too much is the light of someone else.

Anoucheka Gangabissoon

Feet on land
Heart in clouds
Head lost in memories

I play tunes of regrets on my saxophone
And the nectar of love remains a craving

Pleas sent to the skies for an immortal existence
Laden with the warm gaze of my muse
As he shall play for me, songs meant to wake me up
From the slumber that he imposed upon me

Feet on land
Heart in clouds
Head dancing between the two worlds
Imagination and reality play dangerously
Games meant for lovers solely

A white rose,
I seek to be tainted red
Coloured with hues of passion
So deep that their stories shall be recounted of in secret!

Anoucheka Gangabissoon is a Primary School Educator in Mauritius. She writes poetry and short stories as hobby.

Anoucheka Sweety Gangabissoon

Une chanson perdue dans ma tête,
Une vie égarée dans des souvenirs brumeux,
Une pensée,
Un sourire caché,
Un secret…
L’amour, perdu mais promis
Pour la prochaine vie !

Succomber à l’amour,
Un dieu, une image gravée dans mon cœur,
Un million de papillons en vol…
Aujourd’hui, je me sens comme hier,
Quand nos visages ont rougi
Et que nos yeux parlaient en silence

L’espoir se lit dans le réconfort de tes bras,
L’aube nouvelle sera teintée de ton nom.
Un instant perdu, peut-être,
Mais qui sera retrouvé,
Le jour nouveau

Succomber à toi,
Après avoir résisté à tes chants
Qui n’ont cessé de faire écho à mon nom

Succomber à toi,
Comme le soleil qui se noie dans l’océan au crépuscule

Succomber à toi,
Un frisson léger dans mon âme,
Mon but, ma force,
Mon espoir !

Anoucheka Gangabissoon is a Primary School Educator in Mauritius. She writes poetry and short stories as hobby.

Aneeza Soobadaar

Sometimes I pray for that little boy that was never mine
I smiled at him as he tugged at my long Indian skirt
In a desperate attempt to attract my attention, his arms glistening with slime
As he begged for a few coins, his shivering body oblivious of all hurt

I pray for that little boy with big dark eyes, so forlorn
Watching him milling around the market area
With its display of splashy items, leaving no spot unadorned
That his heavy heart so desires, his life an innocent inertia

I pray for that little boy, whose sight has become a comfort to my distant gaze
I give him what I give best, a kind smile
Oh yes, some food too, but words and more, to level him in his haze
As we feel each other, both thrown into some sort of exile

I pray for that little boy, whom I haven’t seen since a long time now
Earnestly hoping he is not in harm’s way
I have grown grooved to his presence, surprising myself somehow
I did not even ask for his name, he must surely be strolling some other alleyway

Sometimes I pray for that little boy that was never mine
I stopped going to that area, as I bled through the years
For things that ought to be, but never were, shimmering crystalline
It is strange how life throws people at you with whom you sync instantly, no demur

Yes, I pray for that little boy that was never mine
He is probably a young man now, as I try to picture him
As the fog is nestling itself deeper and deeper into my mind
For each day that unfolds, brings me some pieces of an answer that is still spinning

Sometimes, I pray for that little boy that was never mine
I am staring at a fish pond, its clear waters whispering to me
A sweet whisper that touches only those who are not blind
As my heart slowly releases the little boy, in an unmatched harmony

Biography

Aneeza Soobadar loves reading and writing poetry and short stories in both English and French since her teenage years. For her, writing is a way to connect to the essence of life and its people, as we navigate this increasingly digital world.

©Pushmaotee Subrun
Mauritius

Certainly, faith and trust are what hold us
In this maze of life, so dark and circuitous.
As human beings we often pass through tamasic phase
When our minds are as good as in haze
Added to uncertainty, with hearts painful,
Words or behaviour of our closest ones so hurtful.
We desperately need the tonic of faith, healing,
Comforting, assurance bringing.

Indeed, like the majestic cedars of Lebanon, a must
It is, to have steady faith and trust,
To reign in our minds, to invite peace and beauty,
Yes, freshness, as the pristine, ever green Ooty or Manali,
Or KodaiKanal, to act as the stimuli,
The beacon of hope, and to keep the spirit,
Uninterruptedly lit.

Thus, the holy scriptures, preaching
Love, hope and faith, are so reassuring,
In our mundane lives,
As honey plentiful in hives.
Otherwise, we would have been miserable, pessimistic,
With dreary moods, victims of panic,
Uncertainly, mistrust, loneliness,
Dejection, utterly affected by hopelessness.

Pushmaotee Subrun studied in Delhi University, worked in Zimbabwe and Mauritius, and is currently an editor in the Ministry of Arts and Cultural Heritage. She is the author of: ‘Ella’, ‘Who is Your Best Friend?’, ‘Short Stories and Fables’, ‘A lyrical bouquet of Soulful Poems’ and ‘Dreams to Reality’. Very soon, her next anthology of Poetry will be published by Inkdew Publications. Her poems have featured in prestigious online magazines. She was selected by ‘Destiny Poets’ as Poet of the Year – ICOP Awards 2019. Her poems feature in several International Anthologies. Lately, she was honoured by Gujarat Sahitya Akademi. She was honoured with the prestigious title of Poet of the Year in 2022 by Inkdew Inkdew. She was among the most favourite 3 World Gogyoshi organized by the founder of world gogyoshi, Taro Aizu.