some stray thoughts, places, persons, peculiarities and perceptions: from Ramdhari Singh Dinkar's famous "Rashmirathi"

some stray thoughts, places, persons, peculiarities and perceptions: from Ramdhari Singh Dinkar's famous "Rashmirathi"

A beauty

The air was calm
Silent waves rose and fell
Now and then, the leaves fluttered
And the sari rustled
The image formed and then scattered away.

He came there
Saw, admired, said, ‘How lovely’!

She suddenly startled,
Roused from rumination
looked at the mirrior in the water
Then slowly raised her face;
Saw the timeless beauty of the mountains
Heard the silent sound of the sea
And realized suddenly
That whatever is perishable
Can ever lovely be?
Mortal beauty can never compare with
the enchanting phenomena of lapping of the waves
Or the blossoming of a beautiful flower.

Today she looked beautiful
And he may admire her
But tomorrow she would be an old lady
And none will be here to say, Ah! Poor she!
The river will flow calmly,
The breeze will blow coolly
And it will rain timely.
Other girls will come and sit there
And will be called pretty!

She was only a small part
Of the chain stretching to eternity
And only so far as
She was a sparkle of the fire burning constantly
Shining brightly for a moment
Dying out the next could she be called a beauty.

Being a beauty!

The air was tranquil and calm
So was the sea
The leaves were blowing
My sari fluttered
Branches swayed
The pebbles shone brightly.

He came there:
Saw, admired, said, ‘How lovely’!
I looked at my reflection in the water
looked at the timeless beauty of the mountains
Heard the silent sound of the river
And realized suddenly
That whatever is perishable
Can ever lovely be?

Mortal beauty can never compare with the enchanting phenomena of lapping of the waves
Or the blossoming of a beautiful flower.
Today I look beautiful
And you may admire me
But tomorrow I will be an old lady
And none will be here to say, Ah! Poor she!

The river will flow calmly,
The breeze will blow coolly
And it will rain timely.
Other girls will come and sit here
And will be called pretty!

I am only a small part
Of the chain stretching to eternity
And only so far as
am a sparkle of the fire burning constantly
Shining brightly for a moment
Dying out the next can be called a beauty.

Lost in the confusion

Lost in the confusion
And the crowd
I stand in the middle of the road
facing the onslaught of vehicles
a dark patch.

The vast earth,
Important personages,
Luxurious cigarettes,
Rustling silk, crackling cottons
And bottles of lavender,
Where am I in the middle of it?

My identity lost in the crowd,
Seen for an instant
An eye a moment, a smile the next,
Then melting in the panorama of people,
Becoming faceless
A profile, a shadow
Embarking on an uncertain journey.

Life..

Life is very short, transient and uncertain, yet we go on accumulating, paying little thought to where our selfishness is leading us. All the natural resources have been exploited to the hilt, and specially we in india pay scant regard to rules, so anyone can get a borewell installed, and the taps are allowed to flow freely, so what if ground water level is falling, it is not an immediate concern. People think more about the sanctity of their rituals then about the environment so flowers and other residues are thrown into the rivers. Worshiping only Tulsi plant, Peepal plant is essential, rest of the trees can be cut down as and when needed. This led me to write this: but we need to make the poor sections of our society aware about not harming the environment, that strata of society needs to be educated which burns rubber tyres during to save itself from the biting cold.

The Time Has Arrived.

Would it be such a bad thing

if 2012 became a reality

the pralaya did really occur

and Lord Shiva performed tandav nritya on the ruins?

We the supreme beings

Have exploited everything natural and beautiful

never giving and replenishing

interested only in reaping the benefits

of God’s boundless bounty.

Merely paying lip service to the idea

Of living in harmony with nature.

Worshipping Tulsi and Pipal

and Mother Earth is

just a ritual performed mechanically.

The time has arrived.

Cows and buffaloes grazing in the country side,

forests resplendent with pools and ponds

are only a part of the panorama

to be used for illustrating the calendars.

The sonorous sounds of birds chirping and twittering

are no longer heard.

The time has arrived.

We the greatest breed of salesmen

which has ever existed

are well versed in (the art of )

availing, spending, consuming

each and every particle of soil.

Nothing has remained inviolate, unadulterated, untouched

the pristine ice covered tops of the Himalayas

or the sand dunes of Rajasthan

all have been explored, enjoyed, praised

and then turned into a waste ground

of cold drink cans, Bisleri bottles and Lays wrappers

giving whole spectacle

a colourful look

turning the land barren

The time has arrived.

The villages and towns both wear the same barren look,

The ball is getting hotter

Ac’s won’t be able to save us long

from the vagaries of nature.

The time has arrived.

We ourselves have planned this

Ecstatically using colourful plastic bags

submersibles, throwaways and unrequired products bought at sales.

Would this doomsday be such a catastrophe after all

The planet getting awashed

from the waters of melting glaciers

the brinks getting submerged.

The time has indeed arrived for the mayan prophecy to come true at last.