Castles in the air - they are so easy to take refuge in. And so easy to build, too.

आम्हां घरी धन शब्दांचीच रत्नें | शब्दांचीच शस्त्रें यत्न करुं ||
शब्द चि आमुच्या जीवांचे जीवन | शब्दें वांटूं धन जनलोकां ||
तुका म्हणे पाहा शब्द चि हा देव | शब्द चि गौरव पूजा करुं ||
- abhang of Tukaram Wolhoba Ambile of Dehu

There's No Freedom Like That of a Child's Imagination

கடலுக்கு உண்டு கற்பனைக்கு இல்லை கட்டுப்பாடு

Friday, April 04, 2008

This Strand of Memory

On opening a book of verse,
falls a strand of memory.
A part of you that is ever mine,
this strand of memory.

Intangible, infrangible,
It keeps bound among these pages -
The bonds that you chose to sever, dear,
this strand of memory.

It seems you are talking to me;
It replays the things you said,
Funny, dull, silly, vague, clever, clear,
this strand of memory.

Like a shiny black record tape,
it plays again and again,
The voice I am doomed to never hear,
this strand of memory.

You never concede that you err,
But it stores forever the
Mistakes you hid with a clever tear,
this strand of memory.

The twinkle of your jewels comes back;
It floods my senses, dispels,
A parting that I need never fear,
this strand of memory.

The paper crumbles, the ink fades,
but your ghazals still echo,
They stream back to me as ever clear,
this strand of memory.

You never were mine, but entrapped
among these ageing verses,
Raamesh will preserve forever dear,
this strand of memory.

1 Comments:

Blogger samudrika said...

still the ghazal hangover i see. (ref: the last line!)

10:18 AM, April 06, 2008  

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