Frangible Sculptures

Holding on to their fragile lives

They ran, they stumbled

Etched in stone forever

Hot lava turning cold

Life's warmth sucked away

But not the hope

Still they are there

Standing

Slumped

Resigned

Still Clinging to their fragile lives 

Young and Old

Master and Slave

Mother and Child

Father and Son

Pregnant then

Plastered now

Brought back to 'life'

Shatterable Life

Frangible Sculptures

Frozen in time....

Image Source

The devastation of the city of Pompeii in Italy due to the eruption of the deadly volcano, Mt Vesuvius in 79 AD, left behind a strange spectacle. Those who see it are filled with an awe, an angst, an unspeakable feeling. I have not visited the place but seen the pictures which stunned me. This poem is my response to the fatal result of that disaster.


Linking to Blog-a-rhythm's Day 3 of #BarAthon Challenge

किस्सा गाड़ी का

Math में था मैं थोड़ा weak

बस सौ तक गिनती आती थी 

पर competition था गाड़ी  का 

तो सौ से भी गिनती पार करी 

रातों को सपने आते थे 

टाटा की गाड़ी में बैठा 

मैं लम्बी सैर पे जाता था 

पर हाय री किस्मत धोखेबाज़ 

जब नींद से मेरी आँख खुली 

टाटा गाड़ी टा टा करके 

पतली गली से जा निकली 

हाथों में मेरे voucher है 

और दिल में मेरे है  anger 

quality post के चक्कर में

 हुई गाड़ी मेरी रफूचक्कर  

Image Source

This is a funny take on the present discussions going on in the forum of IB for Tata Tiago Marathon. Whatever the result is going to be, I feel many will have a heart-break. The reason is obvious - bloggers blogged crazily as is evident in the mammoth number of posts submitted and approved. But there are only two cars in question. Yes, there are vouchers but the grand prize is just for two. So, it is a no-brainer that tempers will run high. The results have also not been declared, which is another cause for growing restlessness among participants. This poem is only to make matters light. I do not intend to take anyone's sides here. I can understand the hard-work of those who participated and I can also see the difficult task of choosing the best among so many.

Whatever happens, dear bloggers, just stay happy. And keep blogging....

True Love

I still remember the time I was a child

Born to well-educated parents

Well-educated, thus well-institutionalized

They gave me the best academically, socially, financially

No complaints to them…

They did not know anything about the 'third gender'

They did not know what being 'straight' or not 'straight' was about

They did not know homosexuality

 They did not feel homo-claustrophobia

Being heterosexuals

Being ‘normal’

They just knew what they had been taught

They just knew that man married woman

That was how it always was

Law of nature…

With good intentions, they passed it on to me

School over, college began

New thoughts sprung up

New books, new authors, new discoveries made

When Auden knocked the door of my mind

His poems sensitized me to the ‘other’ voices

Discovery of violence, injustice, subjugation

Left me in a state of shock

‘Boys don’t cry’ made me cry

As I watched the horrors perpetrated

Just because s/he was different

Why was the ‘dominant’ the ‘normal’ thing

Why was being ‘different’ a crime

As my mind opened up to new realities

I shared them with my mom

Her heart was ‘sensitized’ too

I passed on my knowledge to her

As she had passed on to me

New realizations led to new enlightenment

I sit today and write

Knowing not how and what my children will grow up to be

Being sure about one thing

They will not be burdened by stereotyped identities

They will not live as social ‘constructs’

I give them freedom to choose

Let their orientations

Lead them to true love

Let their path be free from rigidities

Let them live out of the closet

With dignity and respect

Without interrogative disrespect

Yes we all are human

Only if we are compassionate

Only if we understand

Nothing else matters….

Let all live a life they deserve as humans

Let all live with affection

With freedom

With true love.

कोई जिसको हरा ना पाये वह खुद अपने मन से हारा

Sometimes, there are stories that just stay with you forever. They create a magic that leaves you hypnotized. They touch you with a caress that lasts forever. Their imprint speaks in ways you cannot express or articulate. 

There is one such story I read a few days back from For His Shelf....An Expression of Turbulence Inside. It is just one of the many flawless, mesmerizing poems by the writer. 

The story she weaves here is one that grips you by the exceptional choice of words. There is a flow, a melody that sings to you when you read it. The conclusion is left for the reader to make. And that is what hooked me for days. I kept thinking of what would be the best way to end it. The protagonist 'rajkumari' had enchanted me by her charm and grace, her purity and guilelessness. 

I attempted the conclusion and I hope it does justice to the story as a whole. 

If you wish to read the poem I have written, you have to first read the three parts. I have included the links below. Read the whole three parts as they are the context in which I write. My poem is incomplete without these gems. 

@findingnimi 

I owe you this one. I dedicate this post to your beautiful story. It touched my heart in a way very few things do. I hope that just like me, those who read this will be smitten by your charm.  

A BIG THANKS to you!

To the readers

Please read these parts before you move on.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

The conclusion I wrote - Do share your thoughts.

क्या गलत ना होता गर भोलापन नम आँखों में भीगा रहता 

और कपटी अपनी जीत पे हँसता और धोखे का बिगुल बजाता?

अम्मा मेरी कहती थीं की छल से कोई बड़ा न आगे 

कोई जिसको हरा ना पाये वह खुद अपने मन से हारा 

कुछ ऐसा ही हुआ वहां जब राक्षस अपने महल में लौटा 

मग्न हुआ मदमस्त नशे में खुद को खुदा समझ वो बैठा 

खरे ह्रदय का मोल न समझा और निरीह पर दुराचार कर 

उसने था कोमल फूल को मसला 

मूढ़ ना समझा फूल की खुशबू लिपट गयी थी उससे कुछ ऐसे 

लाख जतन कर लेता लेकिन जुदा ना खुशबू को कर पाया 

जो सबको महकाती थी उस सुगंध ने ऐसा जकड़ा उसको 

हर सांस से उसकी आह निकलती हर आह की सिसकी उसे जलाती

तप्ति अग्नि अंतर्मन की, विष से भी घहरा घाव थी देती 

बंद महल में तड़प रहा वो राक्षस कैसे किसी से कहता 

गूँज हंसी की चुभती कानों को, एक भोला चेहरा देिखता हर दम 

महकता हर एक कूचा कूचा, घोट रहा था उसका अब दम 

थक कर बलशाली टूट गया था, वापस चला वहीँ जहां से 

फूल को तोड़ा था निर्दय ने, और कुचला था निर्मल मन को 

राजकुमारी को देखा, वो आज भी खुशियां बाँट रही थी 

लेकिन कुछ खोया खोया सा उसका चंचल मन लगता था 

बिखर गया राक्षस बगिया में जैसे मोम पिघल जाती है 

दूषित मन को बिछा के नीचे कम्पित गुहार में यह कह पाया 

अहंकार में डूबा था मैं सबको मैंने हरा दिया था 

राजकुमारी तूने लेकिन मुझे आज यह सबक सिखाया 

सच्चे मन से नहीं बड़ा कुछ नहीं जीत मैं उसको सकता 

जो त्रुटिरहित है दोषरहित है कैसे मैं उसपे दाग लगाता 

तेरे उजले मन ने कुछ ऐसे इस खोटे मन पे छाप है छोड़ी 

क्षमा नहीं मिलती है मुझको नहीं चैन से मैं जी पाता 

कुछ जादू कर निर्मल मन से, मेरी कालिख अब मिट जाए 

फूल बनूँ मैं बिन काटों के तेरी बगिया को महकाऊँ 

राजकुमारी के हाथों में गुलबहार की  कुछ पंखुड़ियां थीं 

राक्षस की बातों को सुन वो पंखुड़ियां उसने वहां बिछा दीं 

अंतर्मन राक्षस का स्वच्छ हुआ एक नवजीवन अब उसने पाया 

गुलबहार बन बगिया को अब रंग और खुशबू से महकाया 

 खुश हो राजकुमारी भी अब चली बाँटने कुछ और हंसी 

बरसे बादल भी इन्द्रधनुष संग अब कुदरत भी नाच उठी