YESTERDAY IS NO MORE

Once upon a time
My house fronted
A wild meadow
With groves of huddled green
Raising long arms to
A limitless horizon of
White washed blue
On which lazed
Pillows of crystal clouds
Shimmering in
The sun shine so bright
Dazzling the eyes
Embalmed in the night by
The daub of a rotund moon
Piled with frozen ice amidst
A sprinkle of glassy stars
Melting into a smiling rainbow
Soon after a happy shower
Maddeningly gleeful in
The barmy breeze blowing in
Fragrances of faraway lands
Caressing rows of flowers blooming
Like the well scrubbed cheeks of
The baby boy just across the street
Serenely ambling past the tranquil abodes
Without a bump, a hole or a
Bloody scar……..

Once upon a time
Today as I shade my eyes
With my wrinkled hands
And squint up

The sky seems lost
The clouds smudged
The sun shine prickly
The moon hazy
The stars dull
The rainbow stolen
The showers sporadic
The greenery faded
The breeze harsh
The flowers withered
The cheeks sunken
The infants stooped
With adult worries

And the meadow browbeaten
By tall, black, sooty chimneys
Belching fiery
Smoke
Grime
Grease
Dirt
Standing arrogantly by a sluggish, slovenly drain
Murky in hue slimy in texture
Dark in contours wallowing in stench
Once though was a giggly light feet joyful stream

I blame it on a myopic sight
But they say the world now
Has a jaundiced view
Is that true?

LET'S ASK SNOW

My nephew "A" partied hard last night. It was unusual but there it was. Whim and fancy of youth, I suppose. It was a farewell jamboree at his college. On counter thought how could anybody celebrate a farewell with such Bohemian delight? In the final analysis, you were parting from each other. Weren't you? Anyway this piece was supposed to be a breezy one and I wouldn't allow my poky nosed philosophies to intrude unasked. But then all invasions had this gatecrasher's dashing, dizzying, dishoom-dishoom entry. Hadn't they?

Now coming back to where I began. My sister and brother-in-law went to bed early that night confident that their son would intelligently use the spare key with him to get in whenever the nocturnal adventure drew to a reluctant end. Now all adventures had such uncompromising inevitability about them. Well! Let's forget that...In the dead of the night B-I-L woke up with a start, walked up to "A's" room to find the bed empty. Such midnight revelations were always so goosebumpy, yaaarrrs!!! You see, "A" had decided, on the spur of the moment, not to return home and put up with one of his buddies at the hostel coz it was awfully late but as absentmindedness would have it, he forgot all about informing home at the right time.

B-I-L ne aao dekha na taao, now, now, please don't ask me to translate that in English because my colonial legacy is not so stretchable after all. So coming back to B-I-L - he mobiled "A" to give his fatherly piece of mind , oooh. thankfully, at last, well that's not me saying but it's my sister who said that while recounting the whole tempest in the tea cup to me later in the day with the appropriate background noises and score. The next thing we knew was a drowsy "A" knocking at the door.

The celebrity couple were ready to dish out a pair of their pieces of minds together to their off spring when they were quietened by the most important and buzurg like figure of the house, Mr. Snow Boot, who barked, howled and hollered at "A" from the car park to the door with such ferociousness that the family for once could not help but think he'd most probably be tbe long lost judwa who went his own way in the local mela last year and not the humble gentlemanly Snow that we all knew of.

Later in the day, in a calmer mood, "A" confided in me that the experience was exactly like listening to Jab We Met's Dadaji (Darji) LIVE. Remember the ever horizontal Dara Singh whose opening dialogue was " hamein ek nazar mein hi pata chal jaata hai ke ladka ladkii ke beech mein kya chal rahaa hai." Wellll! It was when "A" was just about to leave the room that lightening struck my blinking intellect (and not internet, my dear friends) and pop came out the query, "Yeh ladka to theek hai par yeh ladkii kaun hai?" My nephew who by that time had realized that he had blabbered quite a lot just let a fleeting smile yell on his tightly pressed lips like Tom (of Tom & Jerry fame) when trapped under the window shutter and exited leaving a thick fog of suspense behind.

I was going to pursue the matter with him like a nagging, inquisitive aunt that I was but suddenly one of my rarest brainwaves shook me guts up,"Why not ask the omniscient Snow who knew ek nazar mein...........and all that blah blah" But one cocked left eyebrow from me and Snow just growled a hmmmmmmmmmm and walked quiet sedately out of the room. Just like the censor board with thickly knitted brows issuing an 'A' to some cunningly -cooked-up-controversy-ial movie. Snow might as well have brandished the sickly green certificate at me. Tujhe bhi dekh lenge Snow!!!!Acting elderly unh huh?????

ज़िन्दगी टुकड़ों में

ज़िन्दगी टुकड़ों में बट रही है
अनगिनत चेहरे है मासूमियत के
कौनसा चुन लूँ कौनसा तोड़ दूँ
निर्णय ले नहीं पाती हूँ
आप हाथ पकड़ कर दिशा दिखा दो के
राहों से कदम जुड़ गए हैं ऐसे के
मंजिल पे ठहर नहीं पाती हूँ

SLICES OF LIFE

Pain, come let me immortalize you for posterity
By penning the tale about how you destroyed me

There’s something common between thought and thermal
Both give a feeling of embracing warmth and coziness
But Jarring and scorching when at the maximum
Tranquil and enjoyable if minimal

Scorching summer noon
Clings motionless to the bleached grass head
Lone butterfly

THE BEGINNING ( एक शुरुआत )

In the folds of dawn
I am just a moment
New born.......

ऊषा की लालिमा
नभ को चूमती हुई
और मैं इक लम्हा
गहरी नींद से जगती हुई

THE MEANDERING COURSE

There’s a river tripping down the rugged, uneven terrains of a mountain in a fit of joyful descent coursing its way through pebbled path, narrow in perspective, almost narcissistic and very, very light on feet, disbursing its joyous spree in innumerable rivulets, turning a bend it draws the reign and slows down its pace to a trot, galloping on velvety, lush grounds, it is confident at the same time sedate, serene, introspective even morose at times and at others spirited, delighted, playful perhaps with the air of a vagabond but not Bohemian, of course not, not at all, till it crashes in million aplomb, it is naughty but not mean till suddenly it does discard the zest, the zeal, the fervour, the buoyancy, the vibrancy of yore and takes a more sluggish path of slow paced brood, ambles down the gentle slopes, in an insatiable quest for the unknown and at one point it obliterates the past, blots out the vagaries of aimless reminiscences, freezes the present and oblivious to the fears of the future, traipses past its tributaries to go mingle and get lost into the depths of the bottomless blue fringed with infinite, tumultuous, torrid, impassioned waves pacified into the sage like, silent, ocean stunned into eternal peace. Just like life. Isn’t it?

ON HINDSIGHT.............

We fought like cats and dogs over a trivial issue. But trivial was such a trivia that it was forthwith discarded from our dictionary. Blinding rage wore a magnifying glass shielding clarity of vision, dilating a molehill into a rugged mountain whose peaks were invincible. Lucidity was so pathetically ordinary that we brushed it aside with impatient hands. We had excavated layers and layers of such extra ordinary interpretations to the myriad cornucopia of the very mundane, the very common place.

As a result, we scratched and scarred each other with thorny barbs, sarcastic snide, provocative jibes, sanguinary sneers, razor sharp tongues, and all such means which were more brutal than any other deadly weapon or devastating missile challenging human sovereignty. The apple of discord seemed so important at that point of heated arguments, when we spit mud and gore at each other, that our octaves reached the super sonic till we decided to bang down the phone into each other’s ears and resolved never to speak again.

As the temperature cooled down pity bordering on contempt for the opponent overtook guilt of rubbing salt on each other’s wound. An inflated ego refused to acknowledge faults in behaviour or flaws in perspective. As time passed the moment of insanity receded back to history gradually letting rationality brighten up the day.

On hindsight, winning the argument seemed more important than the actual contention which could have had a simpler solution, a more tranquil rejoinder and also a more amicable finale. But when the mind is fuzzed by the overbearing concern of proving one self right, intelligent handling of an accidentally manhandled situation takes the back seat.

Yes, all word wars are accidents and as the term goes avoidable or with a little care and ease amenable to circumvention. But the ego is quite a fool and rushes in where angels fear to tread resulting in aftermaths which may at times prove beyond repair.

I wish the mind was gifted with more alacrity so that we could clutch in the brake and shift gears escaping the obstructive visual well in time before headlong bumping into it. I wish we could brace ourselves before giving in to torrents of tongue lashing. I wish detached, impartial logic and cool, contained rationalism had the better of us and not snore in one remote corner of our cerebrum or salivate over the discord greedily when these were most needed.

I wish…………..but every such wish is always on hindsight……..isn’t it?

WINDOW TO AN EARLY MORN!

A cloudy dawn. Stilled in time. The sky is streaked with the colours of a promising day. Amidst the dark there is the wink of the pale gold. I think I'll give myself a break from my daily chores. The kitchen sighs. My heart sings. The birds chirp. I can hear the clanking noise of a cyclist going past. Its wonderful to just sit by and let the various noises of the surround soak into your system. You feel alive. One with Nature. Oh! Did I tell you about the wispy fragrances in the air. The jasmine and the marigold. No roses, please. But yes, a yellow little flower with an unknown name has just opened her eyes to this world and stares in awe. Sprinkled by dew drops, the leaves chuckle to themselves. Mr. Snow Boot (my pet) has something to say to each one of them. Perhaps, like "You lazy heads! Wake up!" He occasionally takes a round of my room clapping his ears to let me know he is there. The morning smells, the steaming cup of tea (that of course I made), the silence before the humdrum of day to day activities take over charge. The clock sings her own tune. Eight o'clock. Must gear myself up to face another day. Lord! Give me strength!And peace.

इक नदी है

इक नदी है पर्बतों के किनारियों से उछलती हुई , पथरीली राहों पर डगमगाकर चलती हुई , फिर एक मोड़ पर सहम कर रुकी रुकी सी बहती हुई, अपनी चंचलता से ऊब गयी हो मानो । फिर बंजर, बाँझ सी , अपने बोझ से दबी थम, थम कर पैर रखने वाली समुन्दर से जा मिलती। ठीक अपनी ज़िन्दगी जैसी। है ना ?

LINKS TO MY OTHER POSTS

http://writespace4iw.wordpress.com/2011/02/06/story-space-when-it-is-too-dark-by-geetashree-chatterjee/

http://writespace4iw.wordpress.com/2011/01/09/frank-feel-an-alternate-life-by-geetashree-chatterjee/

http://writespace4iw.wordpress.com/2011/03/06/food-for-thought-irreverently-yours-by-geetashree-chatterjee/

http://writespace4iw.wordpress.com/2010/11/21/emotion-in-verse-ordinariness-by-geetashree-chatterjee/

http://writespace4iw.wordpress.com/2010/11/07/femme-fatale-kaalu-the-vagabong-by-geetashree-chatterji/

http://writespace4iw.wordpress.com/2010/12/05/story-space-in-your-arms-by-geetashree-chatterjee/

THE RAVING MIND

The thoughts are bizarre. They kill. They rave. They rant. I am still. I wonder. I wander. I wilt. I wither. Frosted with grief. Euphoric. I see the world through a prism. The colours refract as does my mood. I throw a tantrum. I watch myself tantalizingly. Some day the temptation is stronger. The creases of mind more intricate. I circumvent. I am skeptical. I am blissful. I wallow in ignorance. Is it right? Asks the righteous core. What is wrong ? The Satan springs and lashes back. When will the journey end ? When will my questions sag ? When will Satan sleep? Its almost time to go to bed.

ज़िन्दगी चुम्बक की तरह खींचती है और मौत दुविधा में डाल देती है। खुद ही कहानी लिखती हूँ और दोहराते समय भूल जाती हूँ। इस कशमकश से निजात मेरे आका। और इक सांस सहला सहला कर कहती है अब तो यात्रा की शुरुआत ही हुई है अभी से घबडा गए ..........?

मुड़ के देखूं तो ज़िन्दगी बुलाती है
आसमानों से आगे बादलों के पार
पर रास्ता मुड़ जाता है
वीरानों में , बंजर वादियों में कहीं
और कदम लडखडाते हैं
सिसकियाँ आवाजों में गूंज के कहे पुकार
पथिक राह भूले तो नहीं हो सुनसान गलियों में ?

A QUIET THOUGHT

Where could have been dreams there is loneliness, a yearning to return to the fetal pose. Where love might have found a repose, there is the torment and tussle of ego. Where prayers should heal there is vanity and the wickedness of a wandering mind. The result, life in a labyrinthine swirl takes me to various shores, leaves me there to lose myself and has a coquettish laugh when I ask my way back home.

जहां ख्वाबों को तैरना था वहाँ अकेलापन है इक बाँझ कोक जैसी। जहां मुहब्बत को चैन था वहाँ मैं ने जंग छेड़ दी। जहां नमाज़ों में दिल को करार आना था वहाँ बदहवासी ने खूब तबाही मचाई। और अब ये आलम है की ज़िन्दगी की पेचीदगियां मुझे कहाँ कहाँ ले जाती है और किनारों की तलाश में राह भूल जाती हूँ । घर का पता पूंछती हूँ तो वह अल्हड नटखट सी होंठ दबाए हंसती है। मैं ज़िन्दगी को तरस जाती हूँ और ज़िन्दगी मुझसे सहम जाती है।

DAWNY MOMENTS

From my study window I see the sky blushing. I can hear the birds chirping. The trees open their arms and take a deep breath. The buds have unfolded their wings. The breeze says hullo to the sleepy heads. Its dawn. Beginning of a new day.

मेरे खिडकियों से झांकता एक सुर्ख आसमान और चिड़ियों की चहचहाहट गूंजती कानों में । पेड़ पौधे अंगडाई ले जाग उठें हैं और कलियाँ पंखुडियां खोले इशारे करतीं हैं । हवाओं ने आवाज़ देकर बुलाया है, "आओ भोर के साथ दिन की शुरुआत करें"।

TIME TO RETIRE

I drink the night in cups of delicate china. Eyes swell up to the brim as dreams overflow. There's a thorn that tickles like cactus. A drought creeps in like an impish grin with the fragrance of jasmine. I think I'll take to bed now. Time to retire.

में रात पी गई चाँद के प्यालों में। आँखें लबरेज़ है ख्वाबों के सितारों से । एक कांटा फिर भी चुभता है शरीर सी देह के गलियों में। एक झोंका सा दबे पाओं आता है जूही की खुशबू लपेटे । अब नींद कहे सो जाओ। अलविदा ।