Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone!

It has happened to me before. It is happening again. Come the rains and the memories just flood the heart. And all I am capable to do during these times is to sit on the window pane, look outside and just feel the moment. There are poems, many poems which can be narrated during these times, but this one has some sublime effect on me. And I just go in a trance as I read it aloud...

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

W. H. Auden

Some thoughts have a way of creeping up and leaving a mark behind. The rains have this effect on me.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Some Dreams

On one of my recent journeys, I came across this poem, this simple amalgamation of words, this arrowhead - which pierces the heart leaving a abyss behind, this truth. And it has left a mark, an indelible mark on me. I insist that you too go through this masterpiece.

I borrow the words from Paash (Avtar Singh Sandhu). The Poem in hindi is not in its entirety, but I have put the english translation by Dr.Satnam Singh Sandhu. Will Try to fill the void as soon as I can.

The poem is titled:
सबसे खतरनाक | Most Dangerous
मेहनत की लूट सबसे खतरनाक नही होती,
पुलिस की मार सबसे खतरनाक नही होती,
गद्दारी, लोभ की मुट्ठी सबसे खतरनाक नही होती|

बैठे बिठाये पकड़े जाना बुरा तो है,
सहमी सी चुप में जकडे जाना बुरा तो है,
पर सबसे खतरनाक नही होती|

कपट के शोर में, सही होते हुए भी दब जाना बुरा तो है,
किसी जुगनू के लौ में पड़ने लग जाना बुरा तो है,
पर सबसे खतरनाक नही होती|

सबसे खतरनाक होता है मुर्दा शान्ति से भर जाना,
न होना तड़प का, सब कुछ सहन कर जाना,
घर से निकलना काम पर, और काम से लौटकर घर आना|

सबसे खतरनाक होता है,
हमारे सपनो का मर जाना|

Most treacherous is not the robbery
of hard earned wages
Most horrible is not the torture by the police.
Most dangerous is not the graft for the treason and greed.
To be caught while asleep is surely bad
surely bad is to be buried in silence

But it is not most dangerous.

To remain dumb and silent in the face of trickery
Even when just, is definitely bad
Surely bad is reading in the light of a firefly

But it is not most dangerous

Most dangerous is
To be filled with dead peace
Not to feel agony and bear it all,
Leaving home for work
And from work return home
Most dangerous is the death of our dreams.

Most dangerous is that watch
Which run on your wrist
But stand still for your eyes.
Most dangerous is that eye
Which sees all but remains frostlike,
The eye that forgets to kiss the world with love,
The eye lost in the blinding mist of the material world.
That sinks the simple meaning of visible things
And is lost in the meaningless return of useless games.

Most dangerous is the moon
Which rises in the numb yard
After each murder,
but does not pierce your eyes like hot chilies.

Most dangerous is the song
which climbs the mourning wail
In order to reach your ears
And repeats the cough of an evil man
At the door of the frightened people.

Most dangerous is the night
Falling in the sky of living souls,
Extinguishing them all
In which only owls shriek and jackals growl,
And eternal darkness covers all the windows.

Most heinous is the direction
In which the sun of the soul light
Pierces the east of your body.
Most treacherous is not the
robbery of hard earned wages.
Most horrible is not the torture of police
Most dangerous is not graft taken for greed and treason.

Imagine how many of us have buried that dream under the heaps of so called necessities of life.