नए मील का पत्थर पार हुआ

--
translation on 13-12-2012. For A.

"नए मील का पत्थर पार हुआ

कितने पत्थर शेष न कोई जानता?
अन्तिमनए मील का पत्थर पार हुआ।
कितने पत्थर शेष न कोई जानता?
अन्तिम कौन पडाव नही पहचानता?
अक्षय सूरज , अखण्ड धरती,
केवल काया , जीती मरती,
इसलिये उम्र का बढना भी त्यौहार हुआ।
नए मील का पत्थर पार हुआ।

बचपन याद बहुत आता है,
यौवन रसघट भर लाता है,
बदला मौसम, ढलती छाया,
रिसती गागर , लुटती माया,
सब कुछ दांव लगाकर घाटे का व्यापार हुआ।
नए मील का पत्थर पार हुआ।"

-अटल बिहारी वाजपेयी

Everyone wonders,  how far the road goes,
But the Final Destination, everyone knows.
The eternal sun, the endless skies,
Only the body, lives and dies.
And so we celebrate, as another year is lost,
After all, a new milestone was crossed.

I yearn, often, for the childhood years,

Wholesome youth, free from fear.
Seasons change, shadows spread,
Vessels empty, enchantments dead,
I staked everything, and lost.
A new milestone was crossed.

- Atal Bihari Vajpayee

I Wish

There are times

when I wish.
for what, I cannot say
I do not even know
But I wish.

I smile with my friends
And joke and laugh
But suddenly, without notice
My brain whips around
The world ends
And I wish.

I shut the doors
And work hard, keep calm
And breathe.
But a word, a picture,
A stray thought
And the world comes crashing in
And I wish.

I learn to stand
I know I need to learn
To be a man.
And to Stand.
But still, sometimes,
I look at the sky, searching,
The clouds hide every star.
And, I wish.

- Yours Trully
for A. 

Very Random poem written 26-04-2010

_

I stare at the ceiling
Lying in my bed
Afraid of the Voices
Shouting in my head.

Afraid of the silence
Playing videos all night
Alone in the darkness
Afraid of the light.

I listen to lectures
Ignoring whats said
To drown in that noise
The voices in my head.

I talk constantly
I have much to hide
Echoing loudly
the emptiness inside.

I use my words
To hide from my friends
Its standard practice
For one who pretends.

I know what to do
but I don't even try
Leaving my soul
To suffocate and die.

I make no effort
I dabble and pretend
Paralyzed and waiting
For this nightmare to end.

The day is not far
when Ill resort to lies
Extinguishing finally
The spark in my eyes.

I listen all night
I talk all day
I speak the most
when I've nothing to say.

-Yours Truly

Untitled

I'm a river creeping to the sea,
I'm a lemming rushing to its fate,
Let me be please let me be,
Its too late, its too late.

With empty words I amuse,
Profound in my decadent state,
I neither accept nor refuse,
Its too late, its too late.

With quiet and indifferent eyes,
I stare blankly at the date,
Silent, watching as time flies,
Its too late, its too late.

The truth makes way for lies,
As the floods of sanity abate,
Songs subside, give way to sighs,
Its too late, please, Its too late.

I feel no love,
I feel no hate,
I feel nothing,
Its too late.

- Yours Truly

अर्ध सत्य. (Half Truth)

This is the poem from Govind Nihalani's brilliant second film Ardh Satya (1983). The poem is by Dileep Chitre.

चक्रव्यूह मे घुसने से पहले,
कौन था मैं और कैसा था,
यह मुझे याद ही न रहेगा.
चक्रव्यूह मे घुसने के बाद,
मेरे और चक्रव्यूह के बीच,
सिर्फ एक जानलेवा निकटता थी,
इसका मुझे पता ही न चलेगा.
चक्रव्यूह से निकलने के बाद,
मैं मुक्त हो जाऊं भले ही,
फिर भी चक्रव्यूह की रचना मे
फर्क ही न पड़ेगा.
मरू या मारूं,
मारा जाऊं या जान से मार्डून,
इसका फैसला कभी न हो पायेगा.
सोया हुआ आदमी जब
नींद से उठकर चलना शुरू करता है,
तब सपनों का संसार उसे,
दोबारा दिख ही न पायेगा.
उस रौशनी मे जो निर्णय की रौशनी है
सब कुछ समान होगा क्या ?

एक पारडे मे नपुंसकता,
दुसरे पारडे मे पौरुष,
और ठीक तराजू के कांटे पर
अर्ध सत्य.

-दिलीप चित्रे

2. The Son of the Soil

The hard, strenuous life is not for me

And Ive always shunned all labour and toil

That being as it may be

I still wish I was a son of the soil.

As a toddler he played in the puddles

On the track that led to my farm

As I swerved my car to avoid him

He smiled at me without alarm.

Ive seen him walking to school

The wind blowing rain in his face

He's barefoot with a well ironed shirt

Completely at ease in his place.

I pass him by in my car

Insulated from the wind and the rain

and the dirt and germs and the people and pain

and my country and its lovely refrain.

Ive seen him standing at the tea stall

With his cutting chai in his hand

With chappals that have never seen a mall

He's at ease, he belongs to the land.

I pick my way through the garbage

Looking away from the beggars I pity

He strides by with a spring in his step

A villager at ease in my city.

Ive never seen envy in his eyes

and I see him every now and again

He knows he knows and hears what I dont

Our country and its lovely refrain.

I have much and seen many lands

An interesting life without toil

And every moment Im back in my country

I wish I was a son of the soil.

-Yours Truly.

The Cats Eye Nebula

I'm wondering where the passions went
As I ponder the times I spent
Dreaming of whales, planets and you
Walking along beaches,
Thinking things through.

I'm puzzled by my lack of will
To find the path I remember still
Winding through strength, beauty and you
Clambering over mountains,
Not only for the view.

I'm trying to recall the people Ive met
Who helped me build the goals I set
Thinking of glory, eternity and you
Blundering through the darkness,
Trying something new.

I'm marveling over what I meant
When I showed myself how far I went
To touch electrons, light and you
Staring at the stars,
Looking for a clue.

-Yours Truly

Untitled Poem. 27-06-2005

Something I wrote a long time ago, as the date indicates. But I thought Id put it up here anyway.

The tides of time rock the isle of the mind.
The world mirrors that interminable sequence.
A welcoming door on an empty street,
The unconscious patter of well shod feet,
Its the most random thoughts that make most sense.

The air is heavy with the smell of rain.
The twilight softens the garish hues.
A cute girl with a smart lad,
The waitress with her note pad,
Its the obvious things that are most abstruse.

The cafe is mellow with the sound of voices.
The music lightens the sombre mood.
Blinking lashes and twinkling eyes,
Stunning truths and prosaic lies,
Its the highbrow things that are shallow and crude.

The curtains are billowing with the freewheeling winds.
The landlady brightens the room with her smile.
Hot coffee in a large mug,
Tired feet on a soft rug,
Its the forgotten heroes who were devoid of guile.

The dull grey skies are darkened by ominous clouds.
The flowers splash colour on old wooden tables.
A haggard face and a meditative sip,
A lovelorn gaze and a quivering lip,
Its the most honest men who are acting out fables.

The cobbled walks beyond the windows are wet.
The smell of fresh bread perfumes the air.
Faded paintings in bulky frames,
Old men playing quiet games,
Its only tired folk who want the world to be fair.

The raindrops carried by the swirling winds are cold.
The slight smile cannot hide the determined chin.
A broken nest by a fallen tree,
A lonely speck on an empty sea,
Its when the storm without is loudest that peace reigns within.

The Scientist

In lonely valleys
along forgotten streams
In solitude and peace
the scientist dreams.

With eternal questions
and wondering eyes
he dreams up celestial catastrophes
and quiet blue skies.

Glimpsing subtly vast infinities
And profoundly delicate forces
With arcane equations
From elementary physics courses.

He ponders equanimously
waltzing galaxies and life on mars
unconcerned by his airy prison,
Splendidly encrusted with glittering stars.

Writers and Poets and Painters
Talk pompously of beauty and art
but in the revelation of the loveliness divine
theirs is a minute and transient part.

In Churches and Mosques and Temples,
Fools dish out answers and lies,
In the minds of the god fearing faithful
Truth withers silently and dies.

Beset with Gods and fears and fairies,
He champions the freedom of thought
In books and classes and bars
Battles for our future are fought.

He asks nothing of his world,
He does not expect life to be fair,
In his humbleness he sees the truth,
Which is that It just does not care.

He has touched the beauty of this realm,
So it does not pain him to see
The Void that lies past the moment
that he stops and ceases to be.

- Yours Faithfully

And therein lies a tale.

To be blank inside
With the remnants of promises made
Dreams woven
Lingering uncomfortable shadows
Tugging persistently
Like ghosts that wont let go
Reminding, painfully painfully
Of a world that had meaning
A life that had faith
Smothered by thought
Textures so subtle and fascinating
Flattened by knowledge
The magnificence of the universe
The insignificance of man
The arbitrary nature of decisions
The vagaries of fate
Textures erased by the flamboyance of creation.
Leaving serene emptiness
A long life to be led
Sleepwalker in a marathon
Saddled with baggage
Cheered by friends
Called ever forward by spirits
One more step one more step
One more step
And therein lies a tale.

I wait

for Silence and Solitude to fill the emptiness that curled up and settled inside me so long ago



the emptiness that has no business being here

the emptiness that causes reasons and feelings to implode and explode alternately


the emptiness that makes words lose meaning and conversations hollow


the emptiness that leads to doubt fear and defeat




She speaks in a soft cajoling sympathetic voice

She spouts the velvety philosophy of decay in lilting perfumed double edged words


She carefully nurtures all that is vile and base within us




She's the devil's favourite whore my friends, and far more dangerous !
Crush her !



crush her i say



Emptiness and the devil





I'll tear her out if I've to cut myself open to do it

they shall not prevail that venomous pair emptiness and the devil



they shall not prevail



It has been a losing battle most of the way comrades and now I rest awhile


And while I rest, I wait for Silence and Solitude

Sunder Kavita.

How much should I give, and how much should I take
The Sky has come to an end
The moon comes into the cup of my hands
With softly shut eyes.



I'm trying to traslate this, but as you can see I'm terrible at it.

Please help !

Its a poem by Mangesh Padgaokar from his collection "Oonjhaleet Swar Tuzhech"

To 'flow', 'lilt', 'tune' and other precious things

Sarojini Naidu: Palanquin-Bearers

Lightly, O lightly we bear her along,
She sways like a flower in the wind of our song;
She skims like a bird on the foam of a stream,
She floats like a laugh from the lips of a dream.
Gaily, O gaily we glide and we sing,
We bear her along like a pearl on a string.

Softly, O softly we bear her along,
She hangs like a star in the dew of our song;
She springs like a beam on the brow of the tide,
She falls like a tear from the eyes of a bride.
Lightly, O lightly we glide and we sing,
We bear her along like a pearl on a string.







That something so prosaic and mathematical as symbols representing sounds can be arranged into patterns that carry meaning quite independent of the specific interpretations of the symbols themselves, that there exist certain forms and structures that strike a chord within the beholder which is independent of the function/meaning associated with them, that this effect is remarkably universal in nature and transcends race, background and age, surely, surely in these degenerate, disturbed times these things should tell us something about ourselves and our place in the loose but omnipresent structure of our splendidly exasperating species.