Take a pause today darling...... - poem by Nikeeta Nirody-Bendre

 

So what if your child is sleeping late,

School is not the end of it all,

Yes, you could not make breakfast today,

There just is no reason to bawl.

So you may order in,

Feel happy to laze around a bit,

Do what you like today,

The activity that you deem fit

So what if you don't clean up today,

Relax and take it slow

Lots of time to finish chores

So many more days to go.

Take a pause today darling,

Sit down with that glass of wine,

What matters too is your health,

It's important that YOU are fine

Milestone .. 24 March 2022

 

Milestone

Long Live Diplomacy

Long Live Peace Talks

Long Live Prevention

Long Live Compassion

Long Live Pre-emption

Long Live Liberty

Long Live Freedom

The King is Dead

Long Live the King

The Song I Came To Sing ... Tagore

I have quoted Tagore in the tagline of my blog, but had never looked for the complete poem, of which it is a part. I found the complete poem, here it is ..

“The song I came to sing
remains unsung to this day.
I have spent my days in stringing
and in unstringing my instrument.

The time has not come true,
the words have not been rightly set;
only there is the agony
of wishing in my heart…..

I have not seen his face,
nor have I listened to his voice;
only I have heard his gentle footsteps
from the road before my house…..

But the lamp has not been lit
and I cannot ask him into my house;
I live in the hope of meeting with him;
but this meeting is not yet.”

― Rabindranath Tagore

English Idiosyncrasies ... 2021

Americans inform, Indians intimate
Indians prepone, Americans advance

Indians pass out of colleges to take up jobs

Americans pass out when they get too drunk 
Brits' Underground may go over ground

A Brit's leave is a permission or a day off

An American's leave is just an order to get lost

Indian trains come on platforms, American on tracks
Americans drive on parkways, while they park on driveways

Dating a Skeptic ... 2021

It is rare to find a poem that addresses a skeptic/atheist. I came across a delightful one in Marathi (see at the bottom of this post), and had fun translating it into English.

Dating a Skeptic

Though you're a skeptic

I drag you to the temple

And you come along

Just for my satisfaction

I do the rituals

With offerings to the altar

While you give alms

To beggars at the entrance

I strive to get ahead

For a good view of the altar

While you relish the beauty

Of the temple architecture

Annoyingly I nudge you

To bow your head in reverence

While you are busy enjoying

The tranquility of the temple

I worry about the footwear

We had to leave outside the door

You say, "A needy one may take them"

And we can walk barefoot home

I wonder who's the one

To be blessed by my god

The believer in me, or

The skeptic in you

The Marathi original (poet unknown):

तू नास्तिक असूनही तुला
दर्शनाला नेणारी मी
माझ्या इच्छेखातर
येणारा तू

हारफुलांचा भाव करत
ताट घेणारी मी,
दारातल्या भिक्षुकांना
मदत करणारा तू

रांगेत पुढे जाण्यासाठी
धडपडणारी मी,
देवळाची सुबकता
न्याहाळणारा तू

चिडून नमस्कारासाठी
तुला खुणावणारी मी,
देवळातील प्रसन्नता
अनुभवणारा तू

देवळातही चपलेची
काळजी करणारी मी,
गरजूने नेली असेल
म्हणून अनवाणी चालत निघालेला तू

खरंच....देव नक्की कुणाला पावत असेल?
माझ्यासारख्या आस्तिकाला...
की तुझ्यासारख्या नास्तिकाला....?

An Equinox Haiku ... Sep 22, 2021

 

Soaked | in | bright | sun|shine (5 syllables)

Leaves | with | their | life | pur|pose | served (7)

Glow | bright | and | with|er (5)

<context: temperate latitudes in the northern hemisphere>

Will you still need Me, Will you still feed me, Now that I'm 64 ... Sep 7, 2021

 

Thank you, Lennon/ McCartney, for thinking of my day today ;-)

The time has finally come (apnaa time aaya)!

When I get older losing my hair
Many years from now
Will you still be sending me a Valentine
Birthday greetings bottle of wine

If I'd been out till quarter to three
Would you lock the door
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four

You'll be older too
And if you say the word
I could stay with you

I could be handy, mending a fuse
When your lights have gone
You can knit a sweater by the fireside
Sunday mornings go for a ride
Doing the garden, digging the weeds
Who could ask for more

Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four

Every summer we can rent a cottage
In the Isle of Wight, if it's not too dear
We shall scrimp and save
Grandchildren on your knee
Vera, Chuck and Dave

Send me a postcard, drop me a line
Stating point of view
Indicate precisely what you mean to say
Yours sincerely, wasting away

Give me your answer, fill in a form
Mine for evermore
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four

Bhakts will be Bhakts ... 2021

(In Hindi, Bhakt stands for devotee; used colloquially these days to represent blind followers of the leader. This post is inspired by the 1980s Gloria Estefan hit, Boys will be Boys)

Bhakts will be Bhakts

Bad Bhakts, Bad Bhakts

He leads, and they follow

Where to? Little do they know

It's all in the scriptures

Knowledge, wisdom, and science

Solutions to all problems

And cures for all ailments

Their chests puffed with pride

Their ancestors' achievements

All invaders from the West

Hold blame for their current plight

They've been so eager to follow

Alas, never had a worthy leader

They all were either elites

Or transplants from another nation

They want their types to lead

Countries and corporations abroad

But an outsider leading them?

Is blasphemy beyond compare

"Secular" is their expletive

Intellectuals are all "pseudo"s

Liberals have to be "lib-tards"

Or, permutations of all of the above

Fatalism is their birthright

Destiny is their privilege

It is all, somewhere, written

By the moon, planets and stars

The Story of My Story ... 2021

I have a story, and so do you

My mother had one, and yours did, too

So do seven billion on the face of this earth

And so many more who came and went

Does anyone care about my story?

"I did this." ....... "So what?"

"I did that." .......  "Big deal."

"I did that, too." ......  "Go, take a walk."

Only two numbers make the epitaph

The date of arrival and of departure

Two dates, that matter for a week

Two dates, those too soon forgotten

On second thought

I really don't have a story

I just pretended to have one

To fool myself and to amuse you

Question ... 2021

 

(Written with apologies in advance to artificial intelligence/ machine learning experts. This is a confluence of AI/ML with the philosophy of life)

Armed with all answers

I ask - what is the question?

No dearth of data and information

What do I do with it - that is the question

What matters and what doesn't

Does anyone know - is the real question

I'll shoot arrows from my quiver

Where's the bull's eye - is the question

My quest is not really for answers

It really is - for the question!

Five-fifty or Two-twenty ... 2021

 

Five-fifty or Two-twenty?

Who cares when life is good?
Who cares when life is bad?
An arbitrary measurement
From an arbitrary reference

Silly lifelong conditioning
To be driven by the clock
That things have to happen

When they are meant to be

So we strive in school

To get a double promotion

To get an extra year

For life's rat-race commotion

As I ramble along

It's well past Five-fifty

Let me end here

Before it becomes Two-twenty

Never Again .. 20 Jan 2021

 

Never again a bully

Never again a misogynist

Never again the sycophants

Never again an insurrection

Never again any nepotism

Never again gun violence

Never again police brutality

Never again children in cages

Never again a global disgrace

Never again alternative facts

Never again "it is what it is"

Never again living in denial

A new day, a new song

A new beginning, a new reality

The light at the end of the tunnel

Is, at last, not an oncoming train

Trumpty Dumpty sat on a wall ... 2021

 

Trumpty Dumpty sat on a (Mexican) wall

Trumpty Dumpty had a great fall

They tried hard to do a steal

Reading only The (f)art of the Deal

Wile E Coyote disguised as Mitch

He, for sure, delivered only the ditch

The democracy wouldn't take him as an obstacle

He went down in history as the biggest spectacle

A new sunrise ... 2021

 

(Sunrise across the San Francisco Bay, as seen from the SFO Marriott)

A new sun rises on my day

And burns the darkest night

A new leaf turns in my book

With the quill eager to write

 

A new tune comes across the breeze

From a lute that shed its dust

A new canvas ever so eager

For a bold stroke of the brush

 

The glass has held its wine

Awaiting the soothing sip

The mirage eluded for long

The parched, but deserving lip

 

I stand at this turn in the road

With my arms stretched to thee

Come, my friend, be my light

To start a life of glee

With My Eyes Wide Shut ... 2020

 

With my eyes wide shut

With my eyes wide shut

I see through my cataract

With my eyes wide open

It’s a dark grey blur

With my eyes wide shut

I can see your tear-drops

With my eyes wide open

It’s the beauty of your mascara

With my eyes wide shut

I can see you from afar

With my eyes wide open

A big faceless crowd

With my eyes wide shut

I see the depth of your sadness

With my eyes wide open

Only the giggles and the laughter

With my eyes wide shut

It’s the stark, dark reality

With my eyes wide open

It’s the bright elusive illusion

With my eyes wide shut

I see a clear method

With my eyes wide open

It's an infinite madness

Context: 

This poem took root during a week of a one-eye-shut life due to a painful stye.

One close friend, Satish Nawathe, was kind enough to look at an earlier draft and provide an interpretation that I loved; one comment made it into a verse in the poem. I am sharing his other comments below:

The shut eye renders an opportunity to visualize without seeing, while the open eye continues with the apparent view of things. The visualization is envisioning ... and can reach the emotional state of the subject person ... and can even connect with him/her in a sublime manner. The open eye merely responds to the physical action of light on the retina. The shut eye is not blind ... it is a chance to internalize and contrast with the superficial inputs .. perhaps find the real meaning behind what appears to be!

It dispels the concept of WYSIWYG (what you see is what you get)!

I must also acknowledge another close friend and good poet, Satyen Hombali, whose influence of style and depth I cannot deny. An example is a different slant with a "satire with a strong message" in his Marathi poem, माणूस maaNoos (human).

Space 'n Time ... 2020

 

(Sketch inspired by the "Love Is" girl and "Amul Butter" commercials)

Space 'n Time

An old skit said,

“The bus is here, the bus is here”

“It’s not our bus, it’s not our bus”

Will a bus stop for me?

Will the bus take me there?

Am I awaiting a train at a bus stop?

Has the bus left?

Or, is it yet to come?

Will I ever know?

Will (s)he join me on my bus ride?

Has (s)he left on another bus?

Is (s)he waiting at another stop?

It’s not just the space, it’s not just the time!

It’s the simultaneity of space ‘n time

Is for the two of us, the rendezvous

Context: Upon re-reading the poem, I realize that are many subtleties in the poem that may warrant contextualization; though I believe that having to explain a poem speaks to its deficiency, as beautifully brought out by the Urdu verse:

Izhar-e-tamanna hee tauheen-e-tamanna hai
tum khud hee samajh jao, main naam naheen loonga

इज़हार-ए-तमन्ना ही तौहीन-ए-तमन्ना है,

तुम खुद ही समझ जाओ मैं नाम नहीं लूँगा।

The enunciation of my desire is itself an insult of my desire

(Beloved) - you figure it out yourself, I shall not elaborate it

In 1960s-70s Bombay, way before mobile phones, or even well functioning land lines were common, courtship in the middle-class society involved the lovebirds to meet out-of-sight of family and acquaintances, at locations like bus stops and involved long waits for the other person to arrive.

The sketch brings together the lovelorn girl from Love Is comic-strip awaiting ..a bus or her boyfriend or ... at a bus stop that sports the Amul Butter ad - another iconic hoarding in Bombay popularized by the Amul girl.

The poem then extrapolates to the concept of the "waiting for her/him" to an elusive life opportunity. The setting is the same - the bus stop - but the situation is that you see a bus coming in, get elated that it may be your route, and then get disappointed that it is not - a common phenomenon from those days!

Finally, the poem resorts to the physics concept to time and space, the simultaneity of both being necessary for a rendezvous to occur.

Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer ... 2020

 

Rudolf, the Red Nosed Reindeer

Had a streak running down his cheek

And if you ever saw it

You would break into a shriek 

All the other Republicans

Laughed and looked the other way

They never let such clowns

Join in their devious games

Then one hot summer eve

Tutar interviewed him in a hotel room

His mic got stuck in his pants

Borat had to threaten him with a broom

The Pinocchio of the New World

Tries hard to defend the Chief Liar

He's only a joker, just a court jester

Far from the semblance of a lawyer

Not quite a haiku ... 2020

Not quite a haiku (5 syllables)

By its strict definition (7)

Is it a trio? (5)

Pitch darkness around (5)
I have my clean glasses on (7)
Can see so well now (5)

Today, a good day (5)
Tomorrow, another day (7)
Its own surprises (5)

No boring life, this (5)
Enjoying its every deal (7)
Twists, turns aplenty (5)

Humpty Dumpty Wore No Mask ... 2020

Humpty Dumpty wore no mask

In the limelight, he liked to bask

He spewed and cursed with no filter

He mocked everyone in his banter

The big bad Flu was lurking near

First he took away his Hope dear

Chris, Thom, Mike, Ron, and Bill

Nick not spared, neither Kellyanne's will

The mice scurried to get a story straight

72 hours. No, 36. No, 24. No, forty-eight.

The oxygen is low. No, the oxygen is high.

Whatever they say, it's a lie hiding a lie.

...to be continued

Even so, my love, let us meet someplace else (Sahir Ludhianvi's Taj Mahal translated by Mustansir Dalvi)

 

The translation by Mustansir Dalvi:

For you, my love, the Taj may well be the quintessence of ardor

while full well may you adore this exquisite vale 

Even so, dear one, let us meet someplace else

What worth, these lowly ones, loitering in the halls of the lords,

where on every path lie etched remains of pomp and glory?

What worth then, the passing of lovelorn souls?

My love, behind the veils of love’s proud proclamations,

did you see the signs of imperious grandeur?

You, who revel in mausoleums of dead kings,

did you not heed the dark hovels that fostered us?

Beyond count are those, in this world who have lived and loved.

Could anyone deny the truth of their passions?

But they, like us, stay destitute, without the means

to erect monuments to their love.

These edifices, these tombs, these battlements, these forts,

haughty relics of the conceit of emperors

are left behind like resilient creepers on the face of the world,

seeped in the blood of our forefathers.

My love, those artful hands who created this beauty

would have lived and loved too; 

but their lovers are long gone, nameless, without a trace.

To this day, no one has lit a candle in their memory.

The lush gardens and palaces, the Yamuna’s edge;

the exquisitely carved portals, the arches and niches,

the handiwork of the one emperor who, buttress’d by infinite wealth

has mocked our very love, our impoverish'd, destitute love.

Even so, my love, let us meet someplace else.

..and the original by Sahir Ludhianvi

taaj tere liye ik mazhar-e-ulfat hi sahii

tujh ko is vaadii-e-rangeeN se aqeedat hii sahii

merii mehboob kahiiN aur milaa kar mujh se!

 

bazm-e-shaahii meiN GhariiboN kaa guzar kyaa ma’anii

sabt jis raah pe hoN satwat-e-shaahii ke nishaaN

us pe ulfat bharii ruuhoN kaa safar kyaa ma’anii

 

merii mehboob pas-e-pardaa-e-tash_heer-e-vafaa

tu ne satwat ke nishaanoN ko to dekhaa hotaa

murdaa shaahoN ke maqaabir se behalne vaalii

apne taareek makaanoN ko to dekhaa hotaa

 

anginat logoN ne duniyaa meiN muhabbat kii hai

kaun kahtaa hai ki saadiq na the jazbe un ke

lekin un ke liye tash_heer kaa saamaan nahiiN

kyuuN ke vo log bhii apnii hii tarah muflis the

 

ye imaaraat-o-maqaabir ye faseeleN, ye hisaar

mutla-qulhukm shahanshaahoN kii azmat ke sutuuN

daaman-e-dahar pe us rang kii gulkaarii hai

jis meN shaamil hai tire aur mire ajdaad kaa KhuuN

 

merii mehboob! uNheiN bhii to muhabbat hogii

jinakii sannaa_ii ne baKhshii hai ise shakl-e-jameel

un ke pyaaroN ke maqaabir rahe benaam-o-namuud

aaj tak un pe jalaa_ii na kisii ne qaNdeel

 

ye chamanzaar ye jamunaa kaa kinaaraa ye mahal

ye munaqqash dar-o-deevaar, ye mehraab ye taaq

ik shahanshaah ne daulat ka sahaaraa le kar

ham GhariiboN kii muhabbat kaa uRaayaa hai mazaaq

meri mehboob kahiiN aur milaa kar mujh se!