Precious jewels in heaven!

 

Mirza Saab admiring Chinar leaves in Srinagar

These that wither and rustle,

These that sparkle and crumble,

These that are spread so bountiful,

These that are infinitely beautiful -

Mamma, are these leaves of Chinar,

What they call precious jewels?

And the land that nurtures them,

Is this what they call heaven?

For their fleeting company 

Brings to me unbounded joy!

What else can be precious?

Where else can be heaven?

 

Virtues of Relationships?

Speak of Love! (PC: Myself!)

 

Those who preach 

The virtues of relationships,

Mind a few subtleties that make 

It worth the idea of companionship.

One is called 'choice',

Another is 'perspective',

Few more are called

'Expectations', 'mutual respect',

'Evolving values' and 'contingent truths'.

Only after thou appreciate these,

Do dare to speak of 'Love'!

The wild flower

 

PC: Myself!!

 This is an attempted translation of a Kannada poem. The original penned by the philosopher-poet D V Gundappa is titled "vana suma" (literally 'forest flower'). A prayer seeking more humility!

 

Oh Lord...
Master, refine my soul so
That my life too may evolve
As that of the "wild flower"!

Like the jasmine in the forest
That blooms in silence,
Spreads true fragrance in joy;
Blooming behind the leaves
Being in all humility,
Abandoning pride,
As it attains fulfillment.

Oh Lord...
Master, refine my soul so
That my life too may evolve
As that of the "wild flower"!

"Benefactor am I and
My benefaction to the world"
Saved from such
Perverted thought;
Let me live in genuine grace
Like that of a tree that provides
Abundant shade, good fruits
And fragrant flowers.

Oh Lord...
Master, refine my soul so
That my life too may evolve
As that of the "wild flower"!

 The original (In Kannada) - 

ವನಸುಮದೊಳೆನ್ನ ಜೀ-
ವನವು ವಿಕಸಿಸುವಂತೆ
ಮನವನನುಗೊಳಿಸು ಗುರುವೆ
ಹೇ ದೇವ

ಕಾನನದಿ ಮಲ್ಲಿಗೆಯು
ಮೌನದಿಂ ಬಿರಿದು ನಿಜ
ಸೌರಭವ ಸೂಸಿ ನಲವಿಂ
ತಾನೆಲೆಯ ಪಿಂತಿರ್ದು
ದೀನತೆಯ ತೋರಿ ಅಭಿ-
ಮಾನವನು ತೊರೆದು
ಕೃತಕೃತ್ಯತೆಯ ಪಡೆವಂತೆ

ವನಸುಮದೊಳೆನ್ನ ಜೀ-
ವನವು ವಿಕಸಿಸುವಂತೆ
ಮನವನನುಗೊಳಿಸು ಗುರುವೆ
ಹೇ ದೇವ

ಉಪಕಾರಿ ನಾನು ಎನ್ನ
ಉಪಕೃತಿಯು ಜಗಕೆಂಬ
ವಿಪರೀತ ಮತಿಯನುಳಿದು
ವಿಪುಲಾಶ್ರಯನೀವ ಸುಫಲ
ಸುಮಭರಿತ ಪಾದಪದಂತೆ
ನೈಜಮಾದೊಳ್ವಿನಿಂ ಬಾಳ್ವವೊಲು

ವನಸುಮದೊಳೆನ್ನ ಜೀ-
ವನವು ವಿಕಸಿಸುವಂತೆ
ಮನವನನುಗೊಳಿಸು ಗುರುವೆ
ಹೇ ದೇವ

- DVG

Ramblings of an Outcast

Painting by Sir Peter Paul Rubens
Picture credit: http://www.abcgallery.com/R/rubens/rubens106.html

जो भी मैं कहना चाहूँ

बरबाद करे, अलफ़ाज़ मेरे!

(Whatever I wish to say,

By my words, destroyed are they!)

                        - Irshaad Kamil(In the soul-stirring lyrics

                      for the movie 'Rockstar')

If at all you look at me,
Then look at me, as I am;
And not as I could have been
Or as you had wished me to be.

I am now, only what I am.
Neither what I once was.
Nor what I once maybe.
If I have changed, then so have I.
Changed when felt a need to.
What is wrong, if to me I heed to?

Spare the prejudices and preoccupations.
Dodge thy taught perception and comparison.
Deep in my eyes, don't you see your reflection?
I too am like you.
Haunted by guilt, Burdened by desires
            And driven by dreams.
Frustrated in pursuits, lost in victories
            And won in defeats.
In true love, only with myself.

Confess in solitude; Conceal in multitude.
Perfected by the imperfections of my attitude.
Flawed, the way we all are, but not faked.
Baked, the way life roasts us all, not exempted.
Is not this you?
Or is it still only me?

Well, I derive a unique pleasure
Common to the outcast genre!
Pleasure in the pride
Of dancing to my own tunes and rhymes!
Unfettered by the truth or vanity of these dreams,
I live, in ecstasy - as if flowing through life's streams.

When death knocks my door
I wish I die a mad dog's death.
One I have dreamed and craved often for.
As I lay in my death -
If at all you look at me,
Then look at me, as I am;
And not as I could have been
Or as you had wished me to be.

Kittens in Akhanda Bharat!

Picture Credit: Myself!

 The kitten at my home
Whom I consider my daughter
Suffers from a unique fever
I know not what is the cure
Nor do I have an answer.

We have chosen a family doctor
Who claims to know the cure
He always has all the answers.
My mother is a skeptic, they say.
She lets the kitten endure suffering.

After days of disagreement
Mom is thrown out of home
Locking up Dad in forced slumber
The doctor stealthly administers
What he claims will work wonder.

We all knew the kitten was born
Under circumstances so terrible
That it inherited the unique fever
Vainly treated by vets from all over
Yet we pin our hopes on this doctor.

The kitten is forcibly tied up tight
How to treat if it puts up a fight?
And lo behold, what is the medicine?
To deprive it of all the accommodation
Done to put up with the uniqueness.

Should I celebrate the experiment?

Is this how I treat my daughter?
Or do I let it be as it is a mere kitten?
Am I sure someday the doctor will not
Treat me with one of his wonders?

Well, my name is Akhanda Bharat
I have usually been a mute spectator.
Though I do not have all the answers
I trust in the reputation of the doctor
For he protects holy cow from slaughter.

ಓ ಬದುಕೇ

ಚಿತ್ರ ಕೃಪೆ: ಸ್ವತಃ

(ಕೃತಜ್ಞತೆ: ಸಂದರ್ಶನ ಒಂದರಲ್ಲಿ "ಓ ಬದುಕೇ ನೀ ಮೌನವಾಗಿಯೇ ಉಳಿದು ಬಿಟ್ಟೆ!" ಎಂಬ ಸಾಲು ಕೇಳಿ ಆ ಸಾಲನ್ನು ಸ್ಫೂರ್ತಿಯಾಗಿ ಬಳಸಿ ಕವಿತೆ ಬರೆಯಲು ಸಲಹೆ ನೀಡಿದ ಗೆಳೆಯನಿಗೆ)

ಓ ಬದುಕೇ,

ನೀನು ನಿಜವಾಗಿಯೂ

ಮೌನವಾಗಿಯೇ ಉಳಿದೆಯಾ?

ಅಥವಾ

ನಿನ್ನ ಸಹಜ ಉದಾಸೀನಕ್ಕೆ

ನಾವು ಮೌನದ ಭಾಷ್ಯ ಬರೆದೆವಾ?

ಓ ಬದುಕೇ,

ನಮ್ಮ ಕಥೆ-ಕಲ್ಪನೆಗಳಿಗೆ

ನಿನ್ನ ಉಪಮೇಯವಾಗಿಸಿ ಬಿಟ್ಟೆವಾ?

ಅಥವಾ

ನಿನ್ನ ಚದುರಂಗದಾಟದಲ್ಲಿ

ನಾವು ಅರಿವಿಲ್ಲದೆ ಪಗಡೆಗಳಾದೆವಾ?

ಓ ಬದುಕೇ,

ನಮಗೆ ಅನುವಾದಾಗ

ನಾವೇ ಆಯ್ಕೆಗಳನ್ನು ಆರಿಸಿಕೊಂಡೆವಾ?

ಅಥವಾ

ನಿನ್ನ ದೂಡಿ ತನ್ಮೂಲಕ

ನಮ್ಮ ಆಯ್ಕೆಗಳ ಸಮರ್ಥಿಸಿಕೊಂಡೆವಾ?

ಓ ಬದುಕೇ,

ನೀನು ಬವಣೆಗಳ

ಬೇಗೆಯಲಿ ಬೇಯುವ ಅನಿವಾರ್ಯವಾ?

ಅಥವಾ

ಸುಖ ದುಃಖೇತರ

ಭಾವ ವೈವಿಧ್ಯಕ್ಕೆ ನಾವು ಕುರುಡಾದೆವಾ?

(Oh life,

Is it that you have

truly remained silent?

Or

Have we interpreted your

natural indifference as silence?

Oh life,

Is it that we have made you

the metaphor for all our fictions?

Or

Have we unknowingly

remained pawns in your game?

Oh life,

Is it that we made our

choices when it suited us best?

Or

Have we blamed you and

consequently justified our choices?

Oh life,

Is it that you are the

inevitability of bearing pain?

Or

Have we been blinded to the

diverse set of varied feelings?)

Complexity of love

A middle aged couple watch the sunset on a beach off Kochi, Kerala (PC: Myself!)

The angel and the devil were grappling to understand the complexity of love.

"Is not failure the essence of love? You fail to be yourself. The loved one fails to be the one who was loved as they evolve while they reciprocate love."

"Is it all not creation, evolution and discovery? Why brand it failure?"

"Because it is! So selfish is love that it consumes itself, constrains the ones in love from being the ones they truly are. It is a baggage of expectations."

"Really? Love is rather so selfless that it creates new worlds, allows the ones in love to flourish and grow beyond the ones they are. It is a source of nourishment."

"But it is such a transient thing. It changes with every moment. It gives rise to multiple expectations. It is so dynamic, fickle. Never stable. The adaptation, adjustment gradually robs you off from your soul. I am afraid if the price of love is the very reason it blossomed in the first place."

"Is not that transience worth it all? Like the essence of our lives which is transience. Love does not keep the seed a seed but nurtures, lets it bloom and flourish into a tree. Maybe allowing it to be a part of the forest."

"Honestly, does not love in the real rugged world constrain, expect and disappoint?"

"Honestly, does not love in the real rugged world also bear, care and nurture?"