Poems published in 'Kalpana', 'Poorvagrah', 'Naya Gyanodaya', 'Lahar', 'Samkaleen Bhartiya Sahitya' and other magazines:
A POET DEPARTS
And Other Poems translated from Hindi/
And ultimately a poet unsung
Leaves the world silently
And shatters nothing, anywhere!
The world snoozes in slumber and wakes up with eternal ennui
Trudging on beaten paths planets and the Universes revolve!
Waves brim all seas
Flora breed on the plateaus...and thus the scenes grow old & older.
A mute scream like a lump
Plugs into throats
When sons aspiring to prosper
Leave our homes without bidding any one a good-bye and
Daughters falling in love, just fleet away
Thousands and thousands board trains to earn their daily bread
Buses carrying pilgrims collide and crash.
New born open their eyes in an unrelenting commotion
Ultimately the dead bodied are made to rest on the chilled floors
The scenes: soaked in ample of acid and affluence of salt
Strangulate inside the poet
Like a fish breathing last strangles in the net unknown
Catalogs of thousands of strange sorrows
Threadbare flags of feeble hopes
Helplessness mirrored in millions of images
A fathomless expanse of violet pathos
Within his nerves flows a counterworld:
A wishful thinking
-Of finding a world full of love, set in order!
He was a speechless bird
A mute butterfly
A dumb honeybee
Away from his abode he is missing from a life that was
Once again
Staying far far from the clutches of corpse
The poet would once again feel
The secret tears of scenes peeled off
And
The world shall continue to nap
And wake up as ever before!
****
Translated by the poet
THE DECLINING MINAR
Our home was a sagging Minar
Where aspirations lived like cloths, worn,
The weathers wavering often visited it
As our bodies were just spaces to rest?
For years together the flowers would never know
The art of blooming
Weeping could be set off, any moment, anytime
Sometimes the Dal tasted bitterly salty
But hardly anyone would go on a long journey!
Letters dropped by relatives often came
The ritual of STD lessened their frequency
We bid farewell in youth, to some of our friends, who demised
Some dearly loved ones never turned up again once gone.
Wives and children bought expensive stuff only in the Ads
And looked contented.
Anarchy and Scarcities became natural, just as breathing!
Our home was ours
And we were not the inhabitants of an unknown planet- aliens,
We had full poise and pride about it
Like anyone has, or one ought to have!
Earlier this Minar used to quaver a bit
We were unconscious a little, then almost infatuated considered it as distinctive
But out of the blue it trembled
And now even with a slightest blow of wind
This could collapse off, to the earth.
But, you must ponder it over too-
If so happens some fateful day,
Responsible for it shall be, who?
***
And Other Poems translated from Hindi/
And ultimately a poet unsung
Leaves the world silently
And shatters nothing, anywhere!
The world snoozes in slumber and wakes up with eternal ennui
Trudging on beaten paths planets and the Universes revolve!
Waves brim all seas
Flora breed on the plateaus...and thus the scenes grow old & older.
A mute scream like a lump
Plugs into throats
When sons aspiring to prosper
Leave our homes without bidding any one a good-bye and
Daughters falling in love, just fleet away
Thousands and thousands board trains to earn their daily bread
Buses carrying pilgrims collide and crash.
New born open their eyes in an unrelenting commotion
Ultimately the dead bodied are made to rest on the chilled floors
The scenes: soaked in ample of acid and affluence of salt
Strangulate inside the poet
Like a fish breathing last strangles in the net unknown
Catalogs of thousands of strange sorrows
Threadbare flags of feeble hopes
Helplessness mirrored in millions of images
A fathomless expanse of violet pathos
Within his nerves flows a counterworld:
A wishful thinking
-Of finding a world full of love, set in order!
He was a speechless bird
A mute butterfly
A dumb honeybee
Away from his abode he is missing from a life that was
Once again
Staying far far from the clutches of corpse
The poet would once again feel
The secret tears of scenes peeled off
And
The world shall continue to nap
And wake up as ever before!
****
Translated by the poet
THE DECLINING MINAR
Our home was a sagging Minar
Where aspirations lived like cloths, worn,
The weathers wavering often visited it
As our bodies were just spaces to rest?
For years together the flowers would never know
The art of blooming
Weeping could be set off, any moment, anytime
Sometimes the Dal tasted bitterly salty
But hardly anyone would go on a long journey!
Letters dropped by relatives often came
The ritual of STD lessened their frequency
We bid farewell in youth, to some of our friends, who demised
Some dearly loved ones never turned up again once gone.
Wives and children bought expensive stuff only in the Ads
And looked contented.
Anarchy and Scarcities became natural, just as breathing!
Our home was ours
And we were not the inhabitants of an unknown planet- aliens,
We had full poise and pride about it
Like anyone has, or one ought to have!
Earlier this Minar used to quaver a bit
We were unconscious a little, then almost infatuated considered it as distinctive
But out of the blue it trembled
And now even with a slightest blow of wind
This could collapse off, to the earth.
But, you must ponder it over too-
If so happens some fateful day,
Responsible for it shall be, who?
***
2 comments:
Dear Sir,
Namaskar !
You might not remember me. I am son of shri Anil Gangal of Alwar. i met you couple of times at Jaipur.I still remember the 2 paintings given by you ( which I was suppose to return).
Hope you are doing fine. It was nice to go through your blog.Hope to see you soon.
best regards,
Abhishek Gangal
Dubai
Abhishek, I am happy to receive what you wrote. Should I thank you for everything and expect to keep in touch.Keep reading my other three blogs also....Love, HS
Post a Comment