Wednesday, December 16, 2009

gnoS s'appiP

gnoS s'appiP

Aren't there monies
That arrive and fall
Like autumn rains
Which bring to all -

A certain incertitude
About desires unwanted.
Like prayers made
With beloved hatred.

Friday, December 11, 2009

O Moment!

O Moment!

O Moment! Why you were?
Why you came and split the worlds
In what could, and what were?
How you caused a sun so bright?
Where you found that perfect green?
How you made the time so right?
My ears that were to hear no more -
Why you played the morning music?
- Your last pity or a cruel chore?

And if you were and couldn't not be,
Could you not take my case
With the Gods of Destiny?
Could you not ask for mercy?
Or failing that, be less perfect -
Could you cause little less misery?
Could you beg my miser fate
Scrapes of love for my sake?
Or best, could you make the future wait?

Could you make the future wait?

Yes, O Moment! could you stop?
Right there, in my memory -
Could you please, would you stop?
I wish for you to never pass.
I wish for later to have never come.
It has come to later alas.
In my memory, how perfect you were -
Farewell Moment! You are past.
But O Moment! Why you were?

Wednesday, December 09, 2009

The Greed (Eldorado III)

My third poem on Eldorado. Links to Eldorado I and Eldorado II.

The Greed

Eldorado, my love,
I seek what's mine.
Why to me is love denied?
Eldorado, my love,
Why do you hide?

Do you not know
The pain of parting?
Oh, me fool!
You wouldn't know
How many hearts you rule ..

Do you not know
The anguish of greed?
The glitter of gold,
The want of gain,
The frenzy men hold ..

Do you not know
The desire you cause?
The magic you make,
How you stop -
The heart, the heartache ..

I cannot breathe -
You hold my eyes,
I cannot die -
You hold my heart.
Why do you hide? Why? Why?

Showing some skin
Then hiding behind
A show of smile -
You are, aren't you?
My love, all mine ..

Just beyond
My extended grasp
Just about to be mine -
You are, aren't you?
City of Gold, Only mine.

Thursday, December 03, 2009

Who mourns them?

The men who died -
Who mourns them?

Who remembers they danced,
And laughed,
And got annoyed?

Who remembers they cared,
And cried,
And wrote songs?

And if some of them
Should care to want to live
And come back as one of us -
Who would recognize them?

Wouldn't they sing and dance
To our music?
Wouldn't they live and die
By our laws?

Who mourns them now
To remember their sounds?
Who remembers them now
To know their faces?

Who is to say
If they know?
Who remembers them
To care?

And who is to say
I haven't died
And come back again?

Thursday, October 08, 2009

Addition to Niyati

This is an addition to the earlier Niyati poem. It already has two paras. I'd insert this one into the middle.

जब मैं थक सा जाता हूँ
वो दया ज़रा दिखलाती है -
"चल दिया खेलने, खेल तू"
कहती है, इतराती है ।

मैं मीलों पानी ढोता हूँ
वो धूप बड़ा चमकाती है -
मैं महीनों अंकुर बोता हूँ
वो पल में फसल जलाती है ।

हर सावन मैं भी बारिश की
पर आस लगाए रहता हूँ ।

पानी के नाज़ुक धागों से
मैं ख़ुशी बनाया करता हूँ

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

नियती - Niyati

पानी के नाज़ुक धागों से
मैं ख़ुशी बनाया करता हूँ

दिन भर के मेरे हासिल को
नियती शाम को घायल करती है -
मैं चार धागे बुनता हूँ
वो पाँच उधेड़ा करती है।

मैं दिन भर सूरज तपता हूँ
वो रात को मेहनत करती है -
मैं चार खिलौने गढ़ता हूँ
वो पाँच बिगाड़ा करती है।

मैं नियती की गाढ़ी मेहनत को
हर सुबह मिटाया करता हूँ।

पानी के नाज़ुक धागों से
मैं ख़ुशी बनाया करता हूँ

जग के सारे काजों को
जल्दी निपटाना होता है -
दिल आस छोड़े उसको थोड़ा
हर शाम रुलाना होता है।

नियती के प्रेमी को
यूँ समय बिताना होता है -
वो तोड़ सके ऐसे धागों से
ख़ुशी बनाना होता है।

मैं नियती के इस बैर को
हर सुबह भुलाया करता हूँ।

पानी के नाज़ुक धागों से
मैं ख़ुशी बनाया करता हूँ।

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Yet Again

Yet again I try
To grab in my fist -
Yet another future
Too bright to exist.

Yet again I find
God mighty unfair,
Yet again I learn
Ghosts are just air.

Saturday, July 04, 2009

First Rain

Ah! The Green!
Left behind
By the first rain
Ah! The splashes!
Peace defined
By the first rain
The sounds! The smell!
The life divine -
The first rain.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

A Purpose Without a Purpose

A tribute to Edgar Allen Poe

O how I hope when hope has lost!
Hoping love to get across,
A bridge of hope - the bridge of loss -
You aren't right and you aren't wrong
I lost not though I lost long;
Do I lose and do I love
With a purpose from above,
Is loss and gain the summary
Of Joy bartered for misery?
All that we do and don't
Is with a purpose without a purpose.

I first traded my song
Of joy and happiness long,
I then traded my dreams
Of orange yellow themes -
With such purpose I sought!
A life - and so dearly I bought,
Look! Look what I got!
O God! Can I not revise
My purpose and be wise?
O God! Can I not redeem
Just one last dream?
Is all that we do and don't
With a purpose without a purpose?

Above is a poem on the lines of Edgar Allen Poe's famous A Dream Within A Dream. Poe's poems have an inherent darkness, a lurking death wish. Even the happy ones do and this one - I think it should be banned like Gloomy Sunday. I am yet to read a text with more inspiration for suicide.

Almost everyone can identify with the second para, standing on a sea shore and losing sand held in one's hand - and if one has recently lost someone, then with Poe's
O God! Can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! Can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?

I loved making something on the lines. Thanks Poe.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Lesson for an Entrepreneur Part V

Don't lose the count

Dollars per hour
Per diem per client
Per month per hour
This invoice
That payment;

While keeping account
With skill and cunning
A crore -
A thousand,

Don't lose the count -
Life is running
A second
Per second.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Alakhnanda ( अलखनंदा )

Peace I give.
I - The giver of life.
I - The Mother.
Warm and cool
The creator am I.

Prosperity I bring.
I - The carrier of life.
I - The River.
Slow and silent
The nurturer am I.

Power I am.
I - The taker of life.
I - The Goddess.
Raw and angry
The destroyer am I.

Life I bring
Care I give
By claim. By right.

Death I cause
Chaos I make.
By claim. By right.

Privilege I keep.
I - The companion of Shiva.
I - The Goddess.
Bow before me
The Great Ganges am I.

Sunday, June 07, 2009

Lesson for an Entrepreneur Part IV

While walking a greener patch
Keep the gray in view -
Remember that grays last;
Greens are far and few.

While crossing the bolder arch
The one that may not hold -
Remember how a bird falls;
Worrying, but its wings uphold.

While falling and losing fast
Keep your heart safe in place -
Remember to not blame the arch;
When you lose, don't lose your grace.

While picking up and rising again
Keep your eyes and feet steady -
Strap and tighten your gear then;
Holds are rare and slips are ready.


I got a mention in Dataquest 31st May Edition.

Here is the link:

Apparently, in media industry, proof reading is done after publishing to the web and before publishing to the print.

Saturday, June 06, 2009

Lakkhi Lost the Match

So Lakkhi lost the match
Cuz the toss came very bad
Crooked Cricket hates my Lakkhi
My Lakkhi lost the match
I Lakkhi Lakkhi
My Lakkhi Lakkhi

Seldom the ball, often the bat
Make him miss the wicket the catch
My Lakkhi won the toss
My Lakkhi lost the match
I Lakkhi Lakkhi
My Lakkhi Lakkhi

Through the ducks, through the match
Through the jingles, through the ads
I love my Lakkhi
My Lakkhi lost the match
I Lakkhi Lakkhi
My Lakkhi Lakkhi

Hi Lakkhi Lakkhi
Bye Lakkhi Lakkhi

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Chasing the Myth (Eldorado II)

The mythical elixir
Of ever-life -

With his eyes so true
And a joy so wide
His promised peace
His step so light
So bright so shine
So pure so fine
He that carries
The lover's sign.

The mythical city
Of Eldorado -

With her prince of gold
And subjects of gold
And grains of gold
And rivers of gold
So bright so shine
So pure so fine
She that smiles
The seductress' smile.

The mythical
The myth
All unreal

And I run and chase
Their ghosts

I glimpse and lose
His wink
Her style
So I run and chase
His promise
Her smile

And I helpless take
His tease
Her bait
And chase and run
Their rules
Their race

And I love and crave
His laugh
Her grace
So I run and chase
Her form
His face

And I grab and miss
I reach
They run
And I hurt and smile
I lost
They won

And I lose and lose
Old life
And new
Yet the seductress smiles
And the
Lover too

They tease and laugh
Make signs
In hue
So I run and chase
Her gold
His blue

Like a desert traveler
Who dreams
Of dew.

Men who chase, gold and blue
Am I mad, and they too?
In the barren of their deserts
In a dreamless sleep that hurts -
The mirage
Of Dew
Is all the dream they hold.

Is it still a myth unreal?
Blue elixir and city of gold.

Monday, March 02, 2009

I measure every grief I meet

I measure every grief I meet
(A Tribute to Emily Dickinson)

लम्बा नाटा, भारी हल्का
खुद नाप लिये मैं चलता हूँ
अपने दुख का नाप बना कर
औरों के दुख से मिलता हूँ ।

इनकी ये कल शाम की चोट -
या बड़ा पुराना घाव रिसा है ?
मेरा मुझको कुछ याद नहीं
हाँ दर्द बड़ा ये करता है

रोज़ जीने से क्या इनके
दिल का दर्द बढ़ता है ?
क्या ये बेबस होतें हैं जब -
मरने का जी करता है ?

बूढ़े दुख के होठों पर पर
कभी खुशी हँसती भी है -
जैसे तेल की याद में बाती
बुझती बुझती जलती सी है ।

ये बूढ़ा दुख जब और जीयेगा
क्या और बढ़ेगा, और हरेगा ?
या समय का दिल कुछ पिघलेगा, वो
क्या मरहम का काम करेगा ?

या बूढ़े दुख को बूढ़े दिल
तब तक अपना मान चुकेंगे ?
एक प्रेम ने मर कर दुख जन्मा था
क्या तब ये दुख को प्रेम करेंगे ?

या सोचेंगे मर कर दर्द से
निजात मिलेगी, चैन मिलेगा
पर दर्द तो अन्दर सीप गया है -
ये दर्द ना मौत के साथ मरेगा ।

एक प्रेम में पाया होता है
एक मोल लिया दुख होता है
बस मुठ्ठी में आने को हो जग
और हाथ कटे दुख होता है

इतना दुख को पढ़ता हूँ पर
जाने मेरा दुख कैसा दिखता है
बस समझो मेरे गलगोथा में
कुछ अकेलापन कम लगता है

जब इतने सलीब बंधे हुए हैं
औरों ने कंधो पर ढोए भी हैं -
दुख - लम्बे नाटे, भारी हल्के
शायद कुछ मेरे जैसे भी हैं ।

[गलगोथा* Golgotha is the place where Jesus was crucified.]

Above is an attempted Hindi translation of the infinitely superior original poem, I measure every grief I meet, by Emily Dickinson. I am surprised that we had none of her poems in our school curriculum. She is a great poetess and invariably touches the heart. In my list of favorite poems, her authored-by count will at least be thrice the second place candidates [Robert Frost and Rudyard Kipling]. And for someone who touches your heart with words like she does, her form is superb too. For example, during this translation, I just could not maintain the flow of thoughts as she had in her original. It's just ... too perfect.

I want to paste the original here, but versions on the web do not agree about the real text [yes, including the authoritative ones]. It is really surprising because the nuances are quite different based on which version you read. For example, this whole stanza is missing from most of on-line citations including Bartleby.

I note that Some – gone patient long –
At length, renew their smile –
An imitation of a Light
That has so little Oil –

Also, look at these differences in words:

Bartleby's version:
.. To note the fashions of the cross,
Of those that stand alone, .. version:
.. To note the fashions – of the Cross –
And how they're mostly worn – ..

Bartleby's version:
.. Or would they go on aching still
Through centuries above, .. version:
.. Or would they go on aching still
Through Centuries of Nerve – ..

Bartleby's version:
.. And whether, could they choose between,
They would not rather die
.. version:
.. And whether – could They choose between –
It would not be – to die –

And there are more. It seems blasphemous, yet both are authoritative sources. For my translation, I used version, as it had the extra stanza which I wanted to include in my translation.

Saturday, February 28, 2009

A God in the Sky

With tears on his cheeks
And loss in his past
With vows in his eyes
And hope in his heart
- A boy in the mud
Singing la la la

And a God in the sky
Laughing ha ha ha

With tears on his cheeks
And loss in his past
And tears in his eyes
And loss in his heart
- The man in the world
Learning Na Na Na

And a God in the sky
Laughing Ha Ha Ha

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Aajkal - आजकल

तू हर रोज़ जो खुदा को अर्ज़ीयाँ लिखता है

तू हर रोज़ जो ईबादत में मुखलिस हो झुकता है

तुझको मालूम है ना आजकल समय चीज़ है बड़ी

तेरे जैसों की खुदा के दरबार में भीड़ है बड़ी

झल्ला के फ़रिश्तों ने नया कानून घढ़ा है

उसके खेल के मैदानों में नया ऐलान करा है

अब अर्जीओं का, गुजारिशों का चर्चा नहीं होता

अब आँसूओं से लिखने वाले का लिखा नहीं मिटता

खुदा मसरूफ़ है

अब रोज़ रोज़ रोने वालों से वास्ता नहीं होता

उसके खेल के मैदानों में कोइ मोज्ज़ा नहीं होता

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

A Memory of Light

Missing Robert Jordan (yet again)

Forever are the stories

The ones who end
And whole are the songs
The ones that don't

But some stories are left
By the author unfinished
And some painters let leave
A slash of color bright

Some they intend
Some they forget
Some are simply fun
Some they just won't

How I wish it was
Intended, forgotten
Or left by design
O how I wish
I wish
I wish for A Memory of Light.

Update: Memory of Light is being released in three parts now. The first part got released recently. It is called The Gathering Storm and is written by Brandon Sanderson with the help of Robert Jordan's notes and dictations. Apparently, Jordan was dictating notes for Memory of Light in the last week of his death. More than his love for his story, I think it shows his respect for his fans' desire. I read the book slowly, afraid it would finish too soon and yet it did. I almost feel reverence for Jordan, despite having reserved so much of it for Tolkien.

Dear Robert Jordan, your fans will always love your stories and by extension, you.
Sanderson is doing a good job with your legacy. Rest in Peace. ]

Monday, January 26, 2009


I am dead.
But will I remain dead?

I stood on the shore
So long with the hope
I walked into the sea
Waves to my knees
Color in my eyes
And .. what is that memory?
.. Laughter? .. Hope? .. Something ..
In my future.
Then future.

My hope so innocent
My love so strong
And I carried in my hands
Seeds golden long

To grow into my dream
A Daffodil .. Or a Lily
The right shade of yellow
And to loose into the wind
Waves of my song

My hope so innocent
My hope so wrong
O .. how they slipped
Slipped into the sea
My love
My dream
My song

O .. how I howled unbelieving
With grief
With anger
With loss
O .. how could they lose
So fair
So happy
So strong

But lose all they did
And when my howling died
I had to loose my grip
One by one they died

Some silent
Some screaming
Some wondering
Some weeping
Before the waves took them
Each of them, though,
Looked into my eyes

"You Promised", they said
Never with a sound
Understanding, blaming ... their eyes
How silent
How loud

I waited till they were gone
And the sea forgot they were
In my broken heart, I blessed them peace
And I blessed them peace aloud

But times and memories are forever
A broken heart dies
And on my death-bed, I saw them all
Each in their eyes

I so blessed them peace
I so wished them gone
But my lilies had festered
"you promised" cries

So, I am dead now
And back on the shore
With empty hands
With empty eyes
And a broken-heart's lore

To make a last Promise
To make the Promise last
To burn my seeds
To bury my lilies
To forget my song ..
To break my heart some more.

I stand on the shore
So long it has been
That a memory
Of a memory
Of this story only holds
And with every death
I wonder

What happens when the dead die?
Do they remain dead?