Window

My small window

I had thought

It was to

Bring in some light.

But I failed

To realize

It was also to

Pour out some.

Disoriented

Opening a book

That I know I would never read

Scribbling on last page of my notebook

Amongst a frantic crowd
Earnest discussions
And one nonsense

Walking the longest stretch at marketplace

With nothing to buy

Ominous silence

And an old friend

Declaring defeat

To avoid further trial.

Never to be visited again…

I won’t write me anymore

It’s as if I pretend

Scribbling unnecessary mirth

Or pouring down exaggerated woes.

Such a show-off

Drawing attention

I make you laugh

When I’m overjoyed

Agonized

I inflict you with same.

I describe things

Metaphorically

That leaves you stuck

Pondering…

I complicate things

Leaving it worded

Entangled in close knit of ideas

I put forward a brief state

And that is;

Never to be visited again…

ps: This blog isn't shutting down ! Paradoxical you may say.

...

I wish I could capture
Misery 
That strings moans
Somewhere deep
Multitudes famished
And those cursed bellies.


I need a lens
To get closer to*talisman
How cruel life such
Of meagerly destined
The nib broke perhaps. 


But the wiser corrects;
You have better
And the humble thing
Is moist now...


*Gandhi's Talisman

Ace and ...

There is a guy called Ace. How do I know him? That's not important, I am not in this story. 

Now there's someone who loves him beyond words. He loves her too. She has been with him through thick and thin, supporting him, guiding him, encouraging him throughout.

Ace has left the city to pursue further studies.And she's still with him. She calls him everyday.

At times he gets irritated by all the fuss she creates about his little things like why he didn't have breakfast, when did he wake up and what was he studying etc. At this he becomes furious and slams the call.

 She doesn't minds it  at all. She never minds...

Once Ace asked her about her health, her recovery from illness and whether she ate properly and had fruit. To this she replied;

"Nothing seems to please when you are not here. The fruit always gets rotten thinking that you too don't take a proper diet there."

ps: Yes, you guessed it right. Who else than a mother?

pps: If you have a mom, there is nowhere you are likely to go where a prayer has not already been. ~Robert Brault

Anonymous

Disheveled in mind

Thoughts;

They born, they break.

What pained was

When I didn't reach them

For they had reached me .

And the ones which remained unattended

Were the ones which were amply me

Scattered everywhere

Ranting hard, such a show-off !

Docilely now

I very much stand here

Don't I?

Then succumbed to anonymity

Who was it?

Wonder

Ecstasy

is to find 

what you lost

ages ago.

What you dreamt today

can still be lived !

But

to live

a day spent

years ago is;

Wonder.

Here & Now

Life @ SVL...

expressions of a member

"The depth of a relation does not depend upon the length of acquaintanceship."

                                                - Rabindranath Tagore

It will soon turn out to be an year of glorious association but the fond memories and experiences I'll take from here are profound and worth cherishing.

It goes far beyond the connect of being a reader and books to a level of being a member and a family. The latter though primary is still uncommon.

And I feel so lucky and blessed to have experienced it all.

Study groups, passionate quizzers, objective clubs, enthusiasts of various- it serves not just to be a pool of many but lets the interests of few also survive.

Education workshops, quizzes, debate, book releases and other such events help establish a sense of awareness. And not only this it also gives an alarm to one's own interests.

I've seen myself grow inside out here, an extreme difference both individually and societally by the platform it provides to its members. 

It has upsurged wide array of my personality and has groomed me gradually.

Now that I move on to next level in my career, I know I have a mentor and friends here who will be the plinth when I have a journey ahead. Swami Vivekananda Library has given me a mentor that moulded me in the best possible way.

My sincere thanks to this place. I love to be a part of it.

Regards,

A proud family member.

_________________________________________________________________

Sometimes you need to go unguarded

To face the world

At times you need to be raw

To be apart from the herd.

Things have to be forgotten

To start new ones

Things have to be remembered 

To reload your guns.

Whatever you desire

You rise up to reach 

But midway you might feel 

It's not exactly what you seek.

Then what do you do?

Fall back disheartened!

No, there's nothing wrong anywhere

You just had your realization.

I'm in no mood to preach

Just want to say

That the best things in life

Cannot be found by incessant scour

But best when they are self- realized.

ps: I leave it to you all to connect the above two. 

pps:Million Thanks to Laxmi Sharan Mishra Sir.

LIFE

Something prompted me to share this poem with you all which I wrote during fag end of my school days.These lines appeased me when I actually couldn't enucleate them myself. And now that the bequeathed wisdom is coming to fruition, I have to say this about life. The little I understand of it per se...


Good times, bad times
Come and go…

Love and hatred
Yes and no…

Dreams and nightmares
To and fro…

Black and white
Hawk and dove…

Yes, its life
Off-off, glow.


------------------------------------------------
ps: Thanks a lot Thousif   for the lovely award.

A bit of Tulika...

Hello Friends,
I realize that it's about time I should share something with you all. I just received  a reminder that it was time for my next post. Having read this reminder my gaze fell upon my cupboard which has a paper pasted on which some lines are scribbled in my handwriting. So I thought it would be delightful on my part to tell you something that I've always cherished, that something that marks the inception of my passion for poetry. I used to read various poets till then but they were more like happened to come across reads. But after I read this poet it really made me passionate about poetry. Fernando Pessoa, one of my most favourite poets had actually broken  the mould with those lines and  the very demarcation established was endless.A few lines from this verse are etched in me and I'll post it marking them in bolds. It's one of the most beautiful verses I've ever read.

THE KEEPER OF SHEEP II

My gaze is clear like a sunflower.
It is my custom to walk the roads
Looking right and left
And sometimes looking behind me,
And what I see at each moment
Is what I never saw before,
And I’m very good at noticing things.
I’m capable of feeling the same wonder
A newborn child would feel
If he noticed that he’d really and truly been born.
I feel at each moment that I’ve just been born
Into a completely new world…

I believe in the world as in a daisy,
Because I see it. But I don’t think about it,
Because to think is to not understand.
The world wasn’t made for us to think about it
But to look at it and to be in agreement.

I have no philosophy, I have senses…
If I speak of Nature it’s not because I know it
But because I love it,
Loving does not mean 
What they love, why they love.

To love is eternal innocence,
And innocence is not to think of it… 


I hope you all like it.
Best regards,
Tulika

Nothing

In a small room

all dark, all dark.

In some centre

I sit

shackled

convicted...

God asks me

What did you do?

I say-

Nothing.

Untitled

As I hold these grains of sand

It aches to see them 

Slip away.

A curtain specked

Unfurled through my fingers.

Away...

Away it goes...

And then a smile escapes.

I know one day

Each one would come back as
Pearl.

ps: Cheers to gorgeous moments..!!

My Verse

From the blood of pinched veins

We need to draw

Still many lines

Those words yet to be spoken

That torment somewhere in silence

All the confinements

Of illusionary being

Has to be crossed.

In wretched obscurity

As line of fire

My verse.

Untitled

I want to shatter
Hit the floor hard
Breaking into a thousand pieces
The trivials I'm made of
Let loose...

A shrill loud

In dampened silence around
A flash strong
In dull skies.


Walking out of the crowd
Reach at a point
Where identities warp;

Strike the strings.

Reflections...

The alchemist picked up a book that someone in the caravan had brought. Leafing through the pages, he found a story about Narcissus.

The alchemist knew the legend of Narcissus, a youth who knelt daily beside a lake to contemplate his own beauty. He was so fascinated by himself that, one morning, he fell into the lake and drowned. At the spot where he fell, a flower was born, which was called the narcissus.

But this was not how the author of the book ended the story.

He said that when Narcissus died, the goddesses of the forest appeared and found the lake, which had been fresh water, transformed into a lake of salty tears.

“Why do you weep?” the goddesses asked.

“I weep for Narcissus,” the lake replied.

“Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for Narcissus,” they said, “For though we always pursued him in the forest, you alone could contemplate his beauty close at hand.”

“But…was Narcissus beautiful?” the lake asked.

“Who better than you to know that?” the goddesses said in wonder. “After all, it was by your banks that he knelt each day to contemplate himself!”

The lake was silent for some time. Finally, it said:

“I weep for Narcissus, but I never noticed that Narcissus was beautiful. I weep because, each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see, in the depths of his eyes, my own beauty reflected.”

--Excerpt from Alchemist by Paul Coelho--

I have always been enchanted with these lines. 

And with this beautiful thought I bid you all adieu as exams are just around the corner. But I'll be right back next month and will surely catch up with some reading in between. I will miss you all. I mean it.

Warm regards, 
Tulika

QUIT.

Once upon a time there lived a man who was disturbed by things around him. He was unhappy with the system. And he decided to call it quits. Today we know it as Quit India Movement.

Yes, you can quit. Be in the system and quit it the right way. And change is inevitable.

Imagination Lost…!!!

 

Feelings and  desires

Shaping my thought.

A quest to pen it down,

And  all of a sudden my imagination is lost. 

A lump in my head ,

Growing bigger and bigger.

The  gun is loaded ,

But there’s a glitch in the trigger.

I am helpless,

My heart writhes whilst.

The mind hunts for words,

Together they fight for zilch. 

I write three words,

Cutting two of them next.

With the remaining left,

Outlandish it is, I still wish to finish the text. 

I recall those days,

When my words had much more to it.

The water gurgled, birds chirped

And I could write the whole world in ink. 

Now knowing I will never capture the finale,

I escape the infinite cost.

Converting my travail to trash,

The ink flux ceasefire as my imagination is lost.

ps: This was written 2 years ago and again not because I wanted to write it but because I had to write something which I couldn't finally come up with. Strange are the vents of creativity.I will define it as a moment of creative atyachaar.

Enemy

He awaits me
But when I'm there
I'm ignored.

He awaits me
Hence, he still stands.

  
                                                                          

SPRING

Spring shall come forth

Teeming blazing water upon ice

Tingling the breaths…….

Shall come as stress lines upon forehead

Sweeping away hardships

Ascending the rugged mountains

It will gush down as rivers

Laying backdrops

Blossoming colours

Modeled as per wishes

Would sprout blithely into the womb.

ps: Can't really express how lucky I am to have posted this. Here comes a unique blend of relations..emotions... The Image comes from my Best Friend, a painting which depicts the aura of spring while the Verse comes from my Dad's book Aur Kuch Nahi Toh, a translation of his Hindi poem Basant.

Muses, I can no other answer make, but, thanks, and thanks.

Agnostic’s Woe…

I am agnostic. I am dogmatic in polemical theology. I come to you in times of trouble. I cry in despair. Plead in misfortune. I retreat to my ways. Conquer all. Come halcyon… I appreciate self in exultance. They say, noteworthy goes undelved, disregarded. I’m agnostic. I‘m dogmatic in polemical theology. They put faith. I raise my doubts. They call it nature. I call it science. Maybe they are learned but I’m one learner.

If, you’re listening;

“Spare me,

I’m just another Human.

I need my time.”