R.K. Bushan
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Born on March 7, 1947 at Kartarpur in Jalandhar District, RKBhushan studied in the
Local DAV High School and did his graduation and post-graduation from Doaba
College, Jalandhar City (Panjab University, Chandigarh) in 1967 and 1969).He retired
as Head, Post-graduate Dept of English from LRDAV College afterabout 37 years of
teaching English Language and Literature. He earned an enviousreputation as a great
scholar with a variety of academic and administrative, socialand cultural interests. His
NCC training for about four years inculcated in him asense of great discipline and
patriotism. A man of great industry and diligence, hehas remained uncompromising
whatever has been the price- a rare species these
days. RKBhushan has been a good organizer of cultural andacademicfunctions. He is a
very good orator and a creative writer and a critic with insight and intelligence.He has
attended national seminars and workshops and has been a visiting facultyto deliver
lectures to PG students of different colleges. He has also taughtCommunications Skills,
Personality Development to Police Personnel of JagraonPolice District. Prof.
RKBhushan served as HOD and Co-ordinator, Languages forsome time at Lovely
Professional University, Jalandhar. At present, he is HOD,Applied Sciences and
Professor, Communication Skills at North West Institute ofEng & Technology at
Dhudike (Moga).
Local DAV High School and did his graduation and post-graduation from Doaba
College, Jalandhar City (Panjab University, Chandigarh) in 1967 and 1969).He retired
as Head, Post-graduate Dept of English from LRDAV College afterabout 37 years of
teaching English Language and Literature. He earned an enviousreputation as a great
scholar with a variety of academic and administrative, socialand cultural interests. His
NCC training for about four years inculcated in him asense of great discipline and
patriotism. A man of great industry and diligence, hehas remained uncompromising
whatever has been the price- a rare species these
days. RKBhushan has been a good organizer of cultural andacademicfunctions. He is a
very good orator and a creative writer and a critic with insight and intelligence.He has
attended national seminars and workshops and has been a visiting facultyto deliver
lectures to PG students of different colleges. He has also taughtCommunications Skills,
Personality Development to Police Personnel of JagraonPolice District. Prof.
RKBhushan served as HOD and Co-ordinator, Languages forsome time at Lovely
Professional University, Jalandhar. At present, he is HOD,Applied Sciences and
Professor, Communication Skills at North West Institute ofEng & Technology at
Dhudike (Moga).
KILLING THE KINS
Killing the kith and kin
For their money
Or to usurp their property
When they return home
Needs a serious view.
They left homes and hearths
To struggle
In lands new and strange
Among aliens
And endure pangs of separation
And curses of racism
For years
And return among their OWN
To share
Their joy and success.
But their own
Are no longer their OWN.
The same, callous now, conspire
A cold war to wipe them off.
Law, politics or society
Also play mute mischief
To twist their calculations
Or hush up the deed!
Against the prey!
We tackle terrorism,
Day and night,
Declare a World War on it-
Worse than 1914and 1939
Amidst din and pandemonium
Of loud warnings
Singing of proud and brave action-
Falling flat apart!
Who will fight
These terrorist kin
At home?
POEMS PURELY PERSONAL
My bosom is burdened
For days and nights countless
With aches and pains;
Suppressed sighs and sobs
Rise and sound
As if someone
Is beating the muffled drums
Constantly.
A single smooth sweep,
Six years ago,
Dazzled me with the illusion
Of happiness and freedom,
Yearning of the ages!
It took away my all
Leaving me to lament
And hear the most tormenting
Moans and laments
Of my finest kids.
Those who were dearest ever
Were in fact the worst.
Their façade of virtue and loving care,
Torn into shreds shorn
Into a stunning shock-
Irreconcilable !
The whole past of decades
Lay bare with graves of memories
Dug on the ruins
Of my labour, love and simple faith.
God be thanked!
My healthy thoughts, healthy outlook
And healthy laugh
Remained my only strength and solace
That humbled the times
And kept the prey upbeat.
It always annoyed
The silent and loving conspirators
Who today are calm
After the deed.
I sift the weeds
And tread barefooted
The stubble fields.
No need to look behind
As the past is showing itself
In its shameless nakedness.
What remains
Amidst the dumb laments,
Silent sighs and soundless cries
Crowding my days and nights,
Is again to manage and live the best-
Not for myself,
But for my daughters,
Sheenam and Geetika,
Whose glow and bloom
Faded and died out
In marital happiness
Five years ago
To the jubilations
Of the ever-dearest!
Killing the kith and kin
For their money
Or to usurp their property
When they return home
Needs a serious view.
They left homes and hearths
To struggle
In lands new and strange
Among aliens
And endure pangs of separation
And curses of racism
For years
And return among their OWN
To share
Their joy and success.
But their own
Are no longer their OWN.
The same, callous now, conspire
A cold war to wipe them off.
Law, politics or society
Also play mute mischief
To twist their calculations
Or hush up the deed!
Against the prey!
We tackle terrorism,
Day and night,
Declare a World War on it-
Worse than 1914and 1939
Amidst din and pandemonium
Of loud warnings
Singing of proud and brave action-
Falling flat apart!
Who will fight
These terrorist kin
At home?
POEMS PURELY PERSONAL
My bosom is burdened
For days and nights countless
With aches and pains;
Suppressed sighs and sobs
Rise and sound
As if someone
Is beating the muffled drums
Constantly.
A single smooth sweep,
Six years ago,
Dazzled me with the illusion
Of happiness and freedom,
Yearning of the ages!
It took away my all
Leaving me to lament
And hear the most tormenting
Moans and laments
Of my finest kids.
Those who were dearest ever
Were in fact the worst.
Their façade of virtue and loving care,
Torn into shreds shorn
Into a stunning shock-
Irreconcilable !
The whole past of decades
Lay bare with graves of memories
Dug on the ruins
Of my labour, love and simple faith.
God be thanked!
My healthy thoughts, healthy outlook
And healthy laugh
Remained my only strength and solace
That humbled the times
And kept the prey upbeat.
It always annoyed
The silent and loving conspirators
Who today are calm
After the deed.
I sift the weeds
And tread barefooted
The stubble fields.
No need to look behind
As the past is showing itself
In its shameless nakedness.
What remains
Amidst the dumb laments,
Silent sighs and soundless cries
Crowding my days and nights,
Is again to manage and live the best-
Not for myself,
But for my daughters,
Sheenam and Geetika,
Whose glow and bloom
Faded and died out
In marital happiness
Five years ago
To the jubilations
Of the ever-dearest!