A POEM i felt like preserving!

Sohrab Sepehri: In The Meadow

The turfs of such vastness;
The mounts of such heights;
... The meadow is engulfed by the fresh scent of the grass.

In that remote parish,
I was looking for something,
Maybe a dream, perhaps a fistful of sands,
Or a lightening, a smile,
Yes, something:
A fleeting trance
at least.

Behind the willows,
There is an innocent sense
-made of oblivion and of original void-
It is constantly calling my name.

I stay besides the reeds,
And I listen;
But,
Who is talking to me?
Who is calling my name?

**&**

A lizard slipped into the river,
I leave.
Ryes on my way.
Then it comes the green sight of the farms,
And forgetfulness that stream in the air...


**&**

I stay by the waterway,
I ousted my shoes, feet in the torrent:
Oh, so green I feel at this moment!
And so fluid, so sharp all my senses are!
So aware!
**&**

Who is behind the trees?
No one, only a lonely cow!



It is the noon,
-of a warm summer day-
Even the shadows know the name of the season.
The shadows are spotless and dense.
And in my bright, tidy space,
all the children of sense
Sometimes play, sometimes rest.

**&**

Life is not empty:
There is kindness,
And there is apple
and there is faith.

Life is full,
wherever flowers dare to bloom...
It is true, so true:
Till the last tulip
Life goes on worthwhile.


And now,
Now,
There is something in my heart;
And I am so restless,
Restless like a storm:
I like to run till the end of this perish
to the summit of this mount;
to the end of the perish-
summit of the mounts!

**&**

Faraway,
There is a Voice.
The Voice
is constantly calling my name.

A DULL AFTERNOON!

It’s a mid may afternoon. Like an inaudible anger it is sweeping this date. It’s like a tired dreading labor looking for his lover and her comforting touch but is sustaining his work with half dead will. Forgetting the enthusiasm of the morning this afternoon is sure that no history can be created today.

Sun is having a lot to deliver yet. Wind is hot enough to shut the windows and put the curtains on. Music is doing much little today then expectations.

Twinges of nostalgia in between are working as bit of escape. There used to be a time when heart had such springs in blood that no summer noon was a disturbance. That springtide was eternal but time went lot back in past.

Seems like nothing can be started and accomplished this noon. If sleeping is not an option available then just wait for the evening like I am doing.

A moment and a pond!

I sit silently by the side of a pond and look at the serenity of water. I have some issues with human voice! The way it twists the music of nature is unpleasant!

So! All those moments when I pick silence in a soothing splendor of Mother Nature! I feel an eternal reflection which settles in me forever!

A NIGHT TO VARANASI!

I fancied so much about train and rain both together sharing my equal courtesy! Varanasi came in my life making this fascination true! A random whack of fortune it was and irony being that it was a compulsion too!

That legally debauched arrangement of seat by feeding TC, I noticed Delhi fading in front of my eyes. It diluted and dissolved in the speed of train I remember Shiv Ganga express travelling through that dark night, dark trees, dark sky, dark nostalgia and dark dilemmas. I was feeling the adventure of anxieties in me. It was a silence, a bleakness, breathe taking fear of accepting the defeat of dreams! A compulsion of starting all new. It felt like I have been given an ultimatum to vacate my house by next morning and I just have this night left to pack up. Yes! I felt like vacating myself. It felt like a good bye to me! I had no one in my stories and memories that night. All was I! Everything was me. My versions of world, people, truth and life, I did not allow any interference. Accepted everything what everyone said, rejected everything what everyone said.

My sister slept and it came as a relief, I was relaxed for imagining tears now but they too were not attractive.

Wind was all at my face, making me lose every time when I wagered her if she could make me blink. I was tired to the extent that sleep too was not attractive. My inner revolt was going on silently making every possible destruction to me. I do not know what I needed! Perhaps only and only my mother and her lap.

**

 It started raining! a smile came from somewhere! That same smile when I got drenched in rain with my friends in IP College.  The same smile when I did walks in rain from anywhere to anywhere, the smile when I wrote poems on rain, when I bunked classes for rain, when I spoiled my exams because it was raining outside , when I made tea and pakode for my family, when I smiled for rainbows, when I did not sleep for rain, when I tried drinking it, when I photographed her , when i lost my sleepers in heap of mud during heavy rain and walked naked feet, when we made boat in childhood. That smile! Which came to me every time whenever it rained.

Rain is my elixir it is my salvation. It makes me believe, accept and make things right. This splendid symphony of nature is my strength.

It kept raining, I slept for couple of hours and then there was dawn!

A morning! Which gave me my first encounter with Varanasi.

I do not know what is the measurement for the intensity of feelings, success, and failure.

What matters is! RAIN.

Life should be wrapped in rain! In beauty.

P.S- As I am typing this post for my blog after so long, its raining heavily and I am up with THAT SMILE!

MAKING OF A BACKBENCHER!!!!!!!!!!

Chapter 1
The last bench of my classroom has always been both a magnet and mystery for me. As my elder sister was always a brilliant student, so,i too was forced to be one.Such a strange expectation, isn`t it??? This is how the last bench of my school became worthy of no more than a passing glance and slowly and steadily i turned out conditioned and labeled a "front bencher"it`s an honour to be amongst the so called "cream" of the classroom , but what about the statement which economics is shrieking at us since the beginning of the time, "There is no free lunch in this world..."(i wonder about the dinner and breakfast)No doubt, there are lots of great (but silly) things expected of a front bencher. No need to mention them , they are so obvious( roll eyes). But the thing that is designed to kill is the direct eye contact with the teacher. Gosh!! But still being that irritating "front bencher " is an honour of sorts, So, as it turned out i was amongst the top rankers since i worked hard (so modest ,na?) and i hopped my way into Delhi University.
Chapter2
Now, came the first day of my college. A wider spectrum of knowledge , a new feeling,!! Automatically i occupied the first bench (sick of my habit) and yet again fulfilling the horrendous task of maintaining eye contact ( by now i had enough experience to do so).So in one of my rebellious days, i entered Room no. 56 for the first time, Ma`m was not exactly visible and the distance from the board was too huge to be ignored. Believe it or not!! I was at the last bench (mind it1) not even at last...absolutely the last!
Too my surprise it was an exciting place, you have to do absolutely nothing!! Just inhale and exhale...think about whatever you want to, fantasize as much as you can, the perfect place for planning pranks on an unsuspecting friend, writing your best poetry and prose or fulfilling your cherished dreams of mastering the drawing of a perfect Mickey mouse....How free is this place! The teacher will never come to you even if she suspects you and strides over to your end, the magical hub will itself give you a number of creative ideas to stop her advance. I can bet my life you will start writing A B C D or other gibberish on the notebook with such confidence , sincerity and concentration that she will think you are bust in the utterly bizarre and incomprehensible work given by her and thus there will be a happy ending of a fifty five minute lecture in which the minority consults the teacher and their books while majority consults their watches. To sum up ,all i can say is that there are two heavens on this generally mundane earth. One is our mother`s lap and other is the LAST BENCH.......
P.S:- With all the consideration and due respect, it is really tough to imagine the situation of the teacher. Anyone care to elaborate??????

i penned down this article in 2009..thanks Akshita for editing this in such a fine manner