breaking off
Posted by
wanderer
on Saturday, September 12, 2009
/
Comments: (1)
Man-
I walked a step
But said nothing
You walked a step ahead But never turned back.
As I kept wandering
How your eyes felt about it
You started off
Never to look back again.
Woman_
I walked a step away from you
Towards the strangeness of the night
Felt like turning,
Touching your jaw line
Shuffling your hair
Set it and things right again-
Your sigh filled the air around
An impinging defeated succumbed air
I started off into Unknown
Never perhaps to turn back again.
A wish for a silent soul
Posted by
wanderer
/
Comments: (0)
My afternoon of fragrance
Elope with me
To unknown shores of destiny.
Let no pain touch our feet
Let no storm flung us apart…
To love if little is this earth
Lets fly for the stars up above
My wings with hold you close to me
My breathe will fan your lovely curls
Let the envious dark clouds
-Rumble all about
Let the glaring sun set ablaze our path
My arms will guard you from all pain
-Trust my smile and touch my soul.
My lonely arches now
-Sing of your praise
My blooming roses
-Speak of your grace…
Oh! Grand oceans spread across
Let your pearls adorn his crown..
Oh! Gods of heavens beyond
Shower your blessing on us for sure….
WHILE STOPPING BY…
Posted by
wanderer
Labels:
figmants of imagination
/
Comments: (0)
I wrote this poem while reading 2000 Nobel Prize winning Chinese author Gao Xingjian's 'soul mountain'.
here is a brief introduction to the book and why i thought of reading it...
Soul Mountain (Chinese: 灵山; pinyin: língshān) is a novel by 2000 Nobel Prize winning Chinese author Gao Xingjian, first published in Chinese (Taipei) in 1990. It was first published in the United States in English in December 5, 2000, and was translated by Mabel Lee. The novel is a product of the author's journey in rural areas of China, inspired by a false diagnosis of fatal lung cancer.
The novel is a part autobiographical, part fictional account of a man's journey to find the fabled mountain Lingshan. It is a combination of story fragments, travel accounts, unnamed characters (referred to by the pronouns "I", "you", "she", etc.), and folk poetry/legends.
synopsis-the reason why I read it
At the suggestion of a fellow traveler, the protagonist chooses to seek out the elusive Lingshan, a sacred mountain. The narrator himself, however, multiplies as the narrative progresses. First he divides into "I" and "you". Then the "you" creates a third voice, a troubled and emotional "she", followed by "he". These characters hold some interest for the sacred mountain, yet in the quest the sensitivity and humanity of the characters is revealed, and the narrator realizes that he still craves the warmth of human society, despite its anxieties.
and now my inspired little piece...
WHILE STOPPING BY…
Cold waiting veins of future
Can that mar the living present?
Forget the series of mistakes made in the past?
Time flows on, touching similar shores.
A single sound slips into history.
Yet history repeats itself.
Crystal-clear lakes of Earth
Reflect the stoic faces
Gaping blankly at them-
A Gush of Wind! The picture gets blurred
The traveler treads on his way…
Joy-the changing city
Posted by
wanderer
/
Comments: (0)
This poem was born because I was told by one of my enthusiastic friends to write something of the city I live in…that was the time when I had just discovered I could write quite decent pieces (credit goes to the my illustrated presidency college, Kolkata)…there is a little story behind this piece.’ It was born on the move’. I was waiting at the metro station and the idea came to me…the dumdum-bound train arrived, I struggled my way in, found a seat to squeeze in, took out my note book and started scribbling my mind out…stopped my rushing pen on reaching my destination-the mad rush…dashing up the station steps-half running to my college-the classes-the library trip-the quick snack-the little gossip heard over the shoulder…grasping the essence of
“My echoing song: then worms shall try
That long preserved virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust:
The grave's a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.”
(To his coy mistress-Andrew Marvell)
So on and so forth-until getting bored and rediscovering my morning scribbled madness…
It is that madness I am sharing now will you all….
JOY-THE CHANGING CITY
As the night creeps slowly and slowly…
My world slips into half slumber,
-Never had a chance of complete relaxation.
-The tubes still rushing under my feet.
-The jet still flying above my head.
-The street lights glaring by my sides.
I begin to doze off still.
Interrupted now and then by a burglar alarm
-Jostled by some heart renting fatal cry.
Intoxicated by the laser beams-
-Of charming awaking night life.
I think of closing my tired eyes.
Yellow taxis whiz past.
Some giggling cries in the dark dead lanes.
I turn myself from one side to other.
‘Joy’ whispered some soothing hand,
“Sleep for some hours”.
I mumble words in my mind,
“Sleep for some hours”.
‘Joy’, she calls me ‘joy’,
As I sleep through the night
I grow; I swell, expand, and explode
I prepare myself for the coming dawn.
As the night recedes, the sun glares up.
And I christen myself anew-
‘Joy’- ‘the city of joy’.
banjara...
Posted by
wanderer
Labels:
figmants of imagination
/
Comments: (0)
One of the most enchanting poems I have ever read in my life. just amazing…to think of the time, the moment, the tussle, the strain, and the relief that was all there when I read it….it was before one of the crucial exams of my life and instead of digging myself deep into the heap of notes of literature…I was secretly flipping through javed aktar’s book called quiver…..and believe it or not fell in love with his way of looking at life…
Banjara=wanderer, do I not think myself as one of that kind….?. yes I am one such a confused walker…stopping at some doorsteps for the night to pass by and then trudging on again on the unknown road of destiny…as the new day creeps in with new promises….
Learn to the poem in the Poet's voice
Banjara
main banjara
waqt ke kitne shaharo se gujra hun
lekin
waqt ke is shahar se jaate jaate
mudkar dekh raha hun
soch raha hun
tumse mera ye nata bhi toot raha hai
tumne mujhko chhoda thha jis shahar mein aake
wo shahar bhi mujhse chhoot raha hai
mujhko wida karne aaye hain
wo saare din
jinke kandhe per soti hai
ab bhi tere julf ki khusbu
wo saare lamhe
jinke maathe per hain raushan
ab bhi tumhare lams[sparsh] ka tika
nam aankho se
gumsum mujhko dekh rahe hain
mujhko inke dukh ka pata hai
inko mere gham ki khabar hai
lekin mujhko hukme-safar
jana hoga
waqt ke agle shahar ab mujhe jana hoga
naye shahar ke sab din sab raatein
jo tumse nawaakif honge
wo kab meri baat sunenge
mujhse kahenge
jao apni rah lo rahi
hamko kitne kaam pade hain
jo biti so beet gayi
ab wo kyun dohrate ho
kandhe per jholi rakhe
kyun phirte ho kya paate ho
main bechara
ik banjara
awaara firte firte jab thak jaunga
tanhai ke teele per jakar baithunga
phir jaise pahchan ke mujhko
ik banjara jaan ke mujhko
waqt ke agle shahar ke
sare nanhe munne bhole lamhe
nange pao.n
bhage bhage aa jayenge
mujhko gher ke baithenge
aur mujhse kahenge kyun banjare
tum to waqt ke kitano shahro se gujre ho
un shahro ki koi kahani hame sunao
unse kahunga
nanhe lamho -
ek thhi rani....
sunke kahani
sare ghamgi.n lamhe mujhse ye poochhenge
tum kyun unke shahar na aayi
lekin unko bahla lunga
unse kahunga ye mat poochho
aankhe mundo aur ye socho
wo hoti to kaisa hota
tum ye kahti tum wo kahti
tum is baat pe hairaa.n hoti
tum is baat pe kitni hasti
tum hoti to aisa hota
tum hoti to waisa hota
dheere dheere
sare nanhe lamhe so jayenge
aur main haule se uthhkar
waqt ke agle shahr ke raste ho lunga
yahi kahani phir dohrane
tum hoti to aisa hota
tum hoti to waisa hota
Dreams and thoughts
Posted by
wanderer
on Friday, September 11, 2009
/
Comments: (1)
Suppressed below they try to break through
Suppressed down the ages, they try to
Reassess their identity
Regressive attitude have marked their entity
They like you and me
Trying to minimize the gap
Between their short falls
And their springing achievements..
Beyond all ages they want to score..
Beyond all times, they want to triumph..
They are thoughts and dreams..
We all feel them thumbing
Inside our rotting cage…
Desolate being we remain like this..
With our dreams never translating into reality
Bristir songay
Posted by
wanderer
/
Comments: (0)
Aj notun kore bristir songay
Alaap korbar ichcha holo.
Tar gumro mukho megheder dekhe
Purono alaaper kotha mone poregelo.
Matir trishnarto deho dekhe
Notun patar jonmabar avash peye
Jibon k abar chinte ichcha korlo.
Du hath bariye tader sporsho korte chailam
Alpo hese miliye gelo tara.
R dure kothao, sona gelo,
Hajar nupurer shobdo.
opekhaye
Posted by
wanderer
Labels:
figmants of imagination
/
Comments: (0)
Raat bose thake diner opekhaye,
Kintu se dinta ajo elo na…
Chele gelo ‘phire ashbo ma’ bole…
Bochor elo bochor gelo.
Kintu sei shanto cheleta
Maa r kache ajo elo na…
Oi je golir mukhe
Rong chota dant barkora
Fhal fhal kore takiye thaka barita
Maa r sate, didi k school theke
Sedin khub jeed kore ante gechilo
Oi barir chotto cheleta…
Na maa, na didi, na sei chele
Kauke phirte dekhlamna oi barite
Sobe biyekore bou eneche
Notun jibon, notun swapno…
Bou k niye tar jonmyodiner
Saree kinte gechilo na sei born a sei bou
Kauke phirte dekhlam na
Ekta prochondo awaje
Era sobai hariye gelo
Kauke phirte dekhlamna r.
Kintu se dinta ajo elo na…
Chele gelo ‘phire ashbo ma’ bole…
Bochor elo bochor gelo.
Kintu sei shanto cheleta
Maa r kache ajo elo na…
Oi je golir mukhe
Rong chota dant barkora
Fhal fhal kore takiye thaka barita
Maa r sate, didi k school theke
Sedin khub jeed kore ante gechilo
Oi barir chotto cheleta…
Na maa, na didi, na sei chele
Kauke phirte dekhlamna oi barite
Sobe biyekore bou eneche
Notun jibon, notun swapno…
Bou k niye tar jonmyodiner
Saree kinte gechilo na sei born a sei bou
Kauke phirte dekhlam na
Ekta prochondo awaje
Era sobai hariye gelo
Kauke phirte dekhlamna r.