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Showing posts from 2010

flute and peacock feathers

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now these give an asthetic appeal....serenity in the surroundings.. Flute is for peaceful, soothing music...that triggers the emotional corner of ur heart..,makes you nostalgic ..and takes you back to those old days of the past...which you most lovingly cherish as a memory.... And peacock feathers relate to Him, lord Krishna...(infact flute too does)...

Passing Away

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Shimmering lights Will fade up soon, This brightness shall not Be there, in the noon. I won’t be there To see the morn. You enjoy the days The stars, the moon and the sun. I’ll come back sure, just After a brief sojourn. Parting is difficult Don’t say goodbye… Hold my hands I’m not going that far away. Don’t bade me farewell With so tearful eyes. Let it be a happy one Smile! Stop those cries. I’ll be leaving behind All bonds, relations, all ties. Thousands of emotions shall be left unexpressed Thousands of words, unspoken….. Works undone, moments inexperienced As life fades and hopes shrunken. As life’s cradle heads to the grave And the beating heart retards.. Senses get numb, vision starts blurring out, I ponder over life and the unspoken words. I can’t bear the poignancy of parting and separation The tearing sorrow and unbearable pain. I don’t want to grieve more, Lie here and ask w
THE LAST RIDE TOGETHER by: Robert Browning (1812-1889) SAID--Then, dearest, since 'tis so, Since now at length my fate I know, Since nothing all my love avails, Since all, my life seem'd meant for, fails, Since this was written and needs must be-- My whole heart rises up to bless Your name in pride and thankfulness! Take back the hope you gave,--I claim Only a memory of the same, --And this beside, if you will not blame; Your leave for one more last ride with me. My mistress bent that brow of hers, Those deep dark eyes where pride demurs When pity would be softening through, Fix'd me a breathing-while or two With life or death in the balance: right! The blood replenish'd me again; My last thought was at least not vain: I and my mistress, side by side Shall be together, breathe and ride, So, one day more am I deified. Who knows but the world may end to-night? Hush! if you saw some western cloud All billowy-bosom&

A letter

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Hope this letter finds you In good health and heart Words to share are few Yet I write, before I depart. Amazing was the journey Excellent was the run All days were bright and sunny Memorable was the fun. It’s just two years Still feels like a decade Of friendship, love and cares Of the bond so delicately made. For never had I thought So intimate would be that bond-friendship. Of course, I would miss them a lot And promises I would surely keep. Now, the farewell has come Time has just flied….. All were sad, kept mum “These days have ended,” we sighed. Life would make itself busy again Hope we don’t lose contacts And here I remain… Your friend----Prats…

Senses

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How would life be.. Without The pleasing fragnance of the earth After the first downpour, the first shower. A rose's sweet perfume... And the scent of wild flowers. The aroma of mummy's homemade delicious dishes And all other pleasant odours all around. The sight of  Nature's numerous manifestations The aesthetic beauty...the godly illusions and illustrations.. The river, the dark night, the twilight The sunset over the lake The view of the world heritage sites The ancient and antique treasures of history The varied cultures, traditions..the festivals The pomp and show..the enjoyment The glimpse of a thing of beauty A painting, a flower..a miniature representation Of His creation......... Or just ...an emotion..an expression of love. Hearken... The music of Nature The thunderstorm..the whirling,whistling wind. The outburst of Nature's inlaid anger The rhythmic flow of the river The beat of the heart.. The breeze whistling through the tr

A Short Journal

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I love palaces- beautiful palaces; old sprawling traditional buildings; old monuments and castles; those that speak of the bygone days. They have an essence of ancience and antiquity in their walls, in the art and artistries in their buildings; in the architectures and tapestries that they are adorned with. They are a witness to a history. They make a mark on the sands of time. I feel as if I am a part of their surroundings. I feel a sense of belonging and strong affinity for these places. They awe me, mesmerize me, intrigue me, mystify and even soothe me. These ancient towers are an ambassador of dignity, elegance, beauty, loyalty, and tradition. They speak of a whole dynasty, its success, achievements and its failings; its influence on eternity; its principles and ideologies and its inevitable end. Even old monasteries, forts, churches, tombs, and bungalows, attracts me, especially those long corridors and spacious courtyards. Dan Brown’s ‘The Da Vinci Code’ and ‘Angels and Demo

A tragic End..

Come; listen to a tale of a tragic end With no true witness No one to pray for the departed And no remains of the mistress. A grey towered castle against grey slab rocks Stood in an abandoned island,amidst the sea. Neither fauna, nor village folks Did dare explore the island, so strange and eerie. But the glittering sea concealed tales untold The castle walls bore witness to the unknown history The solitary call for liberation; yet so bold And the surrounding held an air of great mystery. The remote place had a world of its own The walls were bars for someone beautiful With withered fate, and scathed fortune As no mortal did respond to her desperate call. Grown immune at last had she, to prison life Its pains; away from the essence of the world Had stopped every hope, strife A hapless victim, as they called. Yet one day the magnificent bells tolled Announced of freedom, unrestricted mortality But no one came, no voice called No Rapunzel is she nor slee

Through the looking glass

Morbid thoughts and terrifying speculations Filled the mind till the far horizons. The mundane world whispered to me That life, lying embedded in dark silhouette. Painful thoughts of leaving home Fear of the far-off place, so unknown Some eerie enigma Hovered over the kingdom of my mind. Pensive mood thrust with piercing melancholy Light wings of hope, of ambition Helped me fly to the extreme pinnacle And shimmering lights brought excitement. Sober reflections of the bygone days Deep quite contemplations of life’s alleyways I left behind sweet home, all joy and mirth For the soaring heights and that glory. Yards and yards did I leave behind With a strong will but stressful mind…. Destination’s still yards afar… But I would return soon, sure With success, achievement and fulfilled desires Through the same door That I left ajar.

My homeland

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A place alive with the song of birds Where prevails, tales of miracles— And enchanting music of nature dear. Where, In the hazy blue of early morning Come those heart warming sounds— The chirruping of thousands of birds The flapping of their wings Speeding through the gossamer mists And those arising, divine babblings. The date palms, the monkeys and the temples, Where sit subtly coloured songbirds Singing their hearts out……. Nature here, connects sense with sensibility Melds shapes and colours…. Its amplified, echoing silence The reverberating music The call of the night The phenomenal tranquility…. Gives me profound joy. The urge of the world of practicality The suffocating confines of hostel life Nostalgia for sights, sounds, and tastes of native land, Lays bare a part of my own yearnings. Those secret cravings…. For traditional food….. For the presence Of the kith and kins... And for having those flights of fancies…
In this world full of contrasts and paradoxes, one easily gets to smell the sweet fragrance of flowers along with the awful smell of petrol. Imagine the rich aroma of fresh coffee in chilly winters, at the coffee stalls, with an equal proportion of stink from the drains nearby. The scent of wild flowers and the nasty odors from the garbage dumped their. The delicious smell of food in a room full of musty old books and acrid smoke. And who has not seen lotus—the elegant, pure, divine flower with the most beautiful tinge of pink—that grows in filthy waters!!! It is a mystery indeed that a thing of beauty, and dirt, combine in such unwelcome proportions. Well it’s His way of creation….with the most unmatching and weird combinations.
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{inspired by a cellphone SMS} How heavy I feel, When you look at me….O dear! With tearful eyes And I can smile at you Not. How heavy I feel, When you greet me goodbye, With that shaking, trembling voice And I can greet you Not. How heavy I feel, When tears roll down your cheeks… Those dew drops I had treasured And I can console you Not. How heavy I feel, When you give a heart-rending cry— Calling out my name And I can come back Not. It is then, That I realize….. You are sitting, Beside my grave…

Bouts of Emotion

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Bouts of Emotion Deep within, the rhythm goes on The solitary heart beats for the soul forlorn. The vibrant emotions overflow, o hold! As the insane night creeps on the world. How it tries, to escape through the haze of pain The guardian angels leave, their comrades all slain. Eyes swollen, but tears, not even a drop, All sucked in by the thirsty hope. Weeping again on the graveyard sight Happiness, Love, Peace—all buried underneath. “Come to me,” the wailing emotions urge, Only, into the blank air does it merge. As deep within, the rhythm goes onThe solitary heart beats for the soul forlorn

The Spell

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The Spell Here he comes Formally dressed A violin in the hand And a smile on the face. Seats himself, as he does; Amidst the loud applauses— People cheer him up He hears, smiles but replies not. As the show begins The violin is played Spirits are lifted, solaced And silence abides the place. Tunes, played one by one A note comes after the other Three hours pass thus, But the enchanted lot Know it not. Hypnotized, as if they were Lost in a deep trance, Listened to the soulful music Peacefully; disturbed neither— By the time that passed. He stopped at the end, Woke up from his seat Bowed his head But no claps heard The unknown magic Had killed them all.

Queeristan by Parmesh Sahani

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  Queeristan (Amazon Link) Thanks to Audible Free Trial I listened to this amazing non-fiction on LGBTQ inclusion in Indian workplaces. Author Parmesh Sahani identifies as gay Indian, working closely with Godrej higher management and employees for years to create an inclusive workplace, both legally and in spirit. This book is a result of those years of experience, research, collaboration with individuals from difference spectrum of the society and organizations who has successfully transitioned into a queer friendly one.   Indian history is inclusive. From the Khajuraho temple architectures, to Konark to the Rig Veda, there is existing proofs even 2000 years ago of Indian inclusiveness of queer. It’s the draconian British law that criminalised it, which was scraped in 2009, came into effect once again following a sad judgement in 2013 and eventually was scraped off for good in 2018. I am in awe of the lawyers who fought this legal battle- colleagues and partners – Arundhati Katju

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