Longing… Tuesday, Mar 2 2010 

The longing to see you
And feel you and live you
Stirs my soul to destruction.

You’ve come my way,
Given me a life,
And then left me alone
On this stony path.

Who will, then, care
To know who I am?
When you have left me
With nothing to say?

All I have now
Is this parched soul
That seeks your respite
And be part of your life.

I search for you
Amidst the hundred faces
That come before me.
And console myself
Saying, You still love me.

These untrue words
Mean nothing to my heart
Which is sure of one thing
That you have disowned me.

——————-

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Have to share a thing Monday, Mar 1 2010 

Hey guys,

The last poem that I posted “Waiting for You” came to me after a long long while. In these months when I wasn’t penning my thoughts, it was Love that kept me busy with its thoughts. During these months, when Love kept me engaged, it made me realize the essence of poetry… that Love is a sublime form of poetry, that Love what was makes you live a poem, breathe one and then when you are on the seventh heaven, that’s when a poem comes to you and runs towards a paper… [:)]

Aah, I find it so difficult to express myself. I know what I have written is a mere cluster of words that have no meaning, probably. But, I write all this here so that I feel I have shared the most beautiful feeling with the world! I want to stand at the top of the cliff and say, “YES, I AM IN LOVE!!!”

PS: Well, the thought of Love has made me so mad, I forgot what I had to say. Thanks, people for loving the last poem. [:)]

Do I LoVe yOu??? Friday, Mar 20 2009 

Yes, I fell in love with you.
I am still under your spell.
Yes, I admit it.

Your thoughts, your mind,
Your emotions, your call,
Each one was special to me.
I understood everything.
I knew you in and out.

Our love was so pure
That I fell short to comprehend it.
I took you for granted
And went ahead for the world around.

Now, when I want to come back,
Something is stopping me.
I know you are at the end of the tunnel,
Standing with your arms open for me.
Yet,there lies something inside,
Which isn’t allowing me to run into you.

May be there is a guilt feeling,
Or a feeling of having lost my innocence.
Or a feeling of done stupid things under the charm of my innocence?
And realizing them now…
When you are far away…
I am hurt…
And I have no respite.

Look, now I realize,
How many times I have uttered “I” in these few lines.
It was never “WE”.
It was always “I”.
Never did I look at you.
In spite of falling in love with you,
I pestered my selfish “I”.
Did I fall in love with you?
Or I always kept loving my “I”?

I have no answers.
Only sobs, tears,
And a feeling of loss.
Of losing my “I”.
(Well, I am happy about it),
And of losing you
And of losing “Our Love”, “Our Life”, “Our Dreams”
And Our selves.

———————–

Passion for poetry…. Sunday, Mar 8 2009 

Guys, last night I read “Gitanjali”, a collection of Rabindranath Tagore’s poems. Unfortunately, I read the translated version ๐Ÿ˜ฆ Although what I read was a cut to cut translation, (hence it was in prose), it was an amazing experience. ๐Ÿ™‚ย  This edition had a preface by W.B.Yeats written in 1912. Yeats was amazed at the immense talent, creativity and humility with which each and every word, every alphabet was woven into these poems. Yeats mentions that he always wondered why Tagore is held with so much reverie in his country. When he read his works (of course, translated), he was completely under a spell. Same was my case. Gitanjali transports you to another world, in the true sense of the term. It is a union of your soul with the metaphysical realm, without leaving aside your physical realm. It is about love, loving His beings, his things in whatever form you find them. Tagore pens of each and everyone, each and every thing with so much grace that you fall in love with everything… the skies, the stars, the grass and even the weeds. ๐Ÿ™‚

Oh poor me! I again drift away from what I actually wanted to write. I have a friend of mine who is a known Marathi poet. When I had told him of having bought this book for myself (I bought Gitanjali one year ago and read it yesterday ๐Ÿ˜ฆ BAd Gurl, I know you must be saying this). He had, then, said, “Tagore is such a noble spirit and his poetry is of so much height that one must read him only in his original texts so as to understand a bit of him.” Being an eternal lazy bee, I just said, “Who’s going to learn Bengali for that? English is something I can understand at sight… so I am content with what I have (the translated version).” Yesterday, after reading some of his poems from Gitanjali, I realized I was wrong. What my friend said was right. If Tagore can keep you spell bound, elated with his translated works, how explosive will be the energy of his original works? How much calm will his pen provide when read in his native tongue? I must say, I am envious of everyone who knows to read, write and speak Bengali. Can someone teach me the language? I want to read the text in the original form? I do not want someone else to interpret the original for me? I do not want the food. I want to learn how to hunt. ๐Ÿ™‚

I have known, till date, several people who’ve read loads of books (my collection is close to negligible). At times, I used to wonder how come they have the patience to read so much? I have felt this urge many a times.But never have I put it into practice. After reading Tagore (although in the translated version), I have understood what this thirst really is. Poetry has the capability to move a person from the remotest part of his soul. This is where passion develops and this when you become a good reader… knowing many things, yet oblivious to many.ย  ๐Ÿ™‚

Relationships… Thursday, Feb 19 2009 

Every relationship has two participants. Depending on the involvement of the participants, one may determine who is the dominant one and who is the other. Who loves more than the other. This is not only the case with a love relationship, but in any relationship that you may find. A mother and child, a brother and sister, a father and daughter or between two friends. Things go fine when this relationship includes these two people. The moment the baggage of nostalgia or the shadow or the thoughts of a third person enters, or of the crowd around (people you know and talk of), it is then thatย the relationship starts decaying. And one fine day, comes the question, (indirectly of course), who is important? this third person or me??

You have to give an answer that avoids the storm. And your dear relation (the partner in the relationship) feels betrayed. H/She says, “your answer is self explanatory. You are more worried for this third person and you’ve shown me my position in your life.”

Your love is shattered, your relationship in pieces and you, depressed. How, then, do you calm the Tsunami that storms in your heart???