SHE

•September 3, 2009 • Leave a Comment

She whoever had remained in the depth of my being

in the twilight of gleams and of glimpses;

she who never opened her veils in the morning light,

will be my last gift to thee, my God, folded in my final song.

Words have wooed yet failed to win her;

persuasion has stretched to her its eager arms in vain.

I have roamed from country to country keeping her in the core of my heart,

and around her have risen and fallen the growth and decay of my life.

Over my thoughts and actions, my slumbers and dreams

she reigned yet dwelled alone and apart.

Many a man knocked at my door and asked for her

and turned away in despair.

There was none in the world who ever saw her face to face,

and she remained in her loneliness waiting for thy recognition.

~Rabindranath Tagore

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My Song

•September 2, 2009 • Leave a Comment

rose

This song of mine will wind its music around you, my child, like the fond arms of love

This song of mine will touch your forehead like a kiss of blessing

When you are alone, it will sit by your side and whisper in your ear,

When you are in the crowd, it will fence you about with aloofness

My song will be like a pair of wings to your dreams, it will transport your heart to the verge of unknown

It will like the faithful star overhead when dark night is over your road

My song will sit in the pupils of your eyes and will carry your sight into the heart of things

And when my voice is silent in the death, my song will speak in your living heart

~Rabindranath Tagore

I dreamt

•September 1, 2009 • Leave a Comment

I dreamt that she sat by my head, tenderly ruffling my hair with her fingers, playing the melody of her touch. I looked at her face and struggled with my tears, till the agony of unspoken words burst my sleep with like a bubble.

I sat up and saw the glow of Milky way above my window, like a word of silence on fire, I wondered if at this moment she had a dream that rhymed with mine.

~Rabindranath Tagore

The Evening Was Lonely

•September 1, 2009 • Leave a Comment

The evening was lonely for me, and I was reading a book till my heart became dry and it seemed to me that beauty was a thing fashioned by the traders in words. Tired I shut the book and snuffed the candle. And in a moment, the room was flooded with moonlight.

Spirit of beauty, how could you, whose radiance overbrims the sky, stand hidden behind a candle’s tiny flame? How could a few vain words from a book rise like a mist and veil her whose voice has hushed the heart of earth into ineffable calm?

~Rabindranath Tagore

When you are Old

•August 12, 2009 • Leave a Comment

flower

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false and true,
But one [spirit] loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

~William Butler

P.S. Pic of rose in Pahalgam Srinagar, 14th July, 2009.

Let us Sit Near

•August 7, 2009 • Leave a Comment

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Trees are withdrawn in beauty

Hills in their blue reserve

The moon is cool and finished

Is her pure and flawless curve.

They are too perfect. I am

Broken, beset with fear,

Struggling, like you……For comfort

Let us sit near, sit near.

~May Williams Ward

PS – Pic of ducks in DalĀ  Lake Srinagar, on 11th July, 2009.

My Heart is heavy

•July 30, 2009 • Leave a Comment

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My heart is heavy with many a song
Like ripe fruit bearing down the tree,
But I can never give you one —
My songs do not belong to me.

Yet in the evening, in the dusk
When moths go to and fro,
In the gray hour if the fruit has fallen,
Take it, no one will know.

-Sarah Teasdale

PS: Pic of apples on trees in Ladakh, taken on 18th August, 2008.