Pramila Khadun, Mauritius


Pramila Khadun

Bio Data

Mrs Pramila Khadun is a poetess from Mauritius.

Her poems have appeared in various anthologies mainly,

The American Poet Naomi Nye’s anthology, The Vast Sky
National library of Poems, Maryland
The significant anthology by Dr Ampat Koshy
Brian Wrixon for anthologies, Spring Summer Autumn and Winter
Pics anthology
Diaries at Coldnoon

She is a featured poet at Pentasi and her poems appear regularly in “Rejected Stuff” and Destiny Poets.

She has had 4 collections of poetry published entitled ‘Rajnee’, Kavi,Priyumvada and Igniting Key. Her Novel entitled “When love speaks” has also been published in India

Her book “Food and Nutrition  Simplified” is currently being used by Cambridge School Certificate in School in Mauritius.

Her two projects, “Understanding Diabetes” and her collection of 108 Poems on peace and love entitled “Shangri – la” are currently under print.  

She is a retired educator and lives with her husband and three children.

A world called tomorrow

We sat around a hearth of dim fires

Sipping our coffee laced with sugar.

Considered as most acclaimed and influential poets,

By the usual world of glitz and glamour,

We were rather focusing on mankind’s fate

While the river flowed languidly.


We remembered the illustrious moments

Of great inventions, of great makers of civilization,

Of fighters of liberty, the writers and the satires,

The painters and the singers and the accompanying musicians,

And the sweet sweat on the neck of farmers.


We, as avant-gardistes of our times,

Could not allow our minds to play old thoughts.

Our unrelenting passion for humanity’s progress

Which must glow like paint on canvass,

The gleaming light that stands on man’s path

Will never leave man like old trash or recycled garbage.

Man’s evolution must not lead to man’s degeneration.



While the columns of smoke rose

Like falcons flapping their wings

For the great heights, with graceful composure

We eased our troubled hearts

And prayed for man’s unity, for peace and for love.

Prayers have powers, conclusively, incisively.

With our uniform loneliness, we started drawing

On plain paper with our box of crayons

Of a world   called tomorrow

In the backyard of your heart

He  was a London-born designer

Inspired by the rich cultural heritage

That is synonymous with India.

And she was a ballet dancer

With sophisticated tastes

And a champion for social causes.


Both knew each other for sometime

And soft flames of love and desire

With emotions cascading in all forms

Grew gently in her heart

Sparkling a ray of hope.


He was the answer to her prayers,

The warmth that encased her

And when she thought of him,

Be it dawn or dusk,

A sweet radiance of happiness

Glimmered in her grey eyes.


Her soul embodied the perfection

Of love God had created.

One evening, while they walked

Fingers intertwined, in the long

Promenade in the pine forest,

She unraveled to him

The sweet mystery of her love.


The horizon shone

Luminescent orange and white.

The birds sung unheard melodies

And she felt stepping on

A threshold to a new experience.


He held her close to his heart

And she whispered in his ears,

‘I know your heart is not mine,

Yet, give me a small place

In the backyard of your heart.’


He held her closer to him,

With a resplendent smile,

And strolled his fingers on her hair.

He thought for a while and said,

In love, I don’t give all my heart,

I always keep some to myself

And that precious part,

I give it to you now.’


The strings of her heart

Strummed into celestial melody,

In an air scented with lavender.

Enfolding her soul in his,

He gave her his first passionate kiss.

Lover lost

She was tall and elegant and languid,

A beauty with pale blonde hair,

And wistful blue eyes.


He was a great jazz guitarist

Who had read ten thousand books

And travelled ten thousand miles.

He had the wisdom of ancient men,

Always nurturing her thinking,

And broadening her mind.


Weaned from cartoon channels,

She had a tender and seductive body

And yet, the child in her never grew up.

Transparent innocence,

Great compassionate mind,

She always clang to him,

Seeking for love and kisses,

And especially for his attention.


Nestling close to him,

She listened to the fables

Of La Fontaine

Which he narrated so beautifully to her.

She would look at the snow – capped

Mountain range while he smoked his pipe

Releasing spirals of smoke in the air,

Listening to the silence of the woods.


Sometimes, they would sail to deserted beaches,

Basking in the sun with bodies naked.

He would apply jasmine scented oil,

To her back and buttocks,

Her soft shoulders and when

His hands touched her soft breasts,

She felt a breathlessness,

She had never felt before.

The sun felt shy, like a virgin

And hid his blazing face

Behind the clouds rolling and stopping

At this sensuous sight.


Sometime, on moon – hit nights,

They would make a bon – fire

On the shore, far away from

The melancholic tinkling of bells.

He would make tea for her, Darjeeling tea.


While drinking the tea, they watched

The whales diving and surfacing.


Loss in the dimness made by stars,

He touched her velvety legs.

Swept away on a tidal wave

Of sensuality, she came closer and closer,

And they made love till the early hours of the morning.


One summer morning, he leaves her,

Leaving his guitar behind.

He simply disappeared.

And yet, the sweet melody

Did not change to a sad eulogy.

The sweet music of pain played on and on.

While the thunderheads,

Rose above the horizon

And were mounting with swift strides

Through the sky,

She thought of the father.

She had lost in him,

More than the lover.


And she waited for him,

With a pain and grief

Almost beyond bearing,

While the sweet perfume of promise

Filled the air.


 While The Moon Hid Her Face

Sadness, a quintessential part

Of our lives governs our heart

Since the creation of the universe.


There are institutes of seismology,

Meteorology and hydrology

For various studies of  earth’s functional behaviour

Across the sands of time.


And yet, though the heart has its own

Fire, inundations, tsunamis and sandstorms,

There is so little research done on it.

Poor heart! Just the essentials and that’s all.

With a single sigh, it disappears

In distant solitude, running out of time.


However, hers is a heart

Which  always leaves an impression appeasing

Wherever she trod with a holistic approach,

Leaving the air replete with

The scent of a million roses.


While the log fire roared

And the turquoise-hued waves

Touched the shores with peerless love,

Her mind brimmed with memories sweet,

Giving to love a transcending meaning.

She felt she knew her lover

Since a million years.

With a sheepish expression,

She looked at the feisty clouds

High up in the sky

While the rhythmic move

Of the swirling branches

Fanned the air with grace.


All of a sudden, she felt her lover’s hands

Holding her breasts lovingly,

Caressing them with soft touches

And gently drawing her close to him,

So passionate, so compassionate in his moves.

And now the fire of desire

Rose with bright flames

Trying to reach those great heights.

Sometimes hard and at other times harder,

And yet, always desiring for more,

The moments stretched

To phenomenal altitudes

Charting the transparent territories of love

While the moon hid her face behind the clouds

For a sight hot as this one,

She had never seen.

The beauties of co-existence

We exist because others exist

And yet, everyday we pretend others don’t exist.

How long?


Each one of us has flamboyant ambitions,

An insatiable desire for perfection.

Creative, smart, realistic and flexible,

We want to bring our plans to fruition

And the voice within us that says

‘Move on,’ cannot be stilled.


It is believed that if we want

To achieve something in life,

The ensemble of the entire cosmos

Conspires with us to make of this daunting task

A mission successful and plausible.

It is the glorious path of full consciousness

That sages have worked on for years

That helps to open the sleeping eye.

It is the spirit of togetherness

Which under the yoke of ignorance

Looked like a bull without horns.


Einstein’s theory of relativity

Just turned hundred years old.

Faraday, Marie Curie, Michelin, Darwin,

To mention but a few,  have left light for us

And gone.



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