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tito2008's ezBlog



May 26, '08



Hey fropperites ! Here is a poem written as a birthday gift to a dear friend of mine.


The Birth

How are you ?

Here I go
My fingers showing an alluring path
in a space that transforms into
thoughts I am having with my heart

Here I do not hear words, but I see words
I do not see even a single picture of yours, but
I see lots of your fond letters and icons

The reality of seeing
brings the unreality of the seen

Here words are all :
Hamlet too said words words and words
The sage Bharata told that nothing but words
formed
Brahma, the Supreme Being
Between us there are only words
inside which there are
Nava-Rasa
and the
Pancha-Bhuta

The letters, the syllables sing in unison
yet I do not hear them
I can only read the song
the syllables dance too
I put my steps with them
in a space that transforms into
thoughts I am having with my heart

If this space expands upto
half way across the globe
the space is unreal

It brings reality to silence
reality to stillness

The words fly onto the forehead,
onto the cheeks of a dancing soul
before they transform into
a virtual world of unending love

Silence rests in these words
They are dressed with emotions
The emotions are daring, naked like flames of fire
Fire engulfs the space just before transforming into
thoughts I am having with my heart

How are you ?

Here I celebrate the birth of a new word order
It is born on your birthday. 




(Nava-Rasa :
nine emotions described in Indian Aesthetics;
Pancha-Bhuta :
five elements of life/universe
)








May 19, '08





I ought to have told you to
take care of your things

Look what you did
You have left your smiling lips on my eyes
Memories of your caring words are in my heart

Do you think I am going to return them
‘Nope’, prompt comes the answer
through your fingers

The web has entangled us for none of our
faults, the long arduous wait
for our wishes to chat
comes a cropper

I set a clock of hours to remind me
about your sweet
dreams of the dreaming world
The clock has no arrow of minutes
Yet its passage through hours is so fast

Did I see you once smiling at me
from the shadows of a tree full of green leaves
I could smell tea
in the night wind
You said to me a happy day was about to begin

The sun is to the west of you
The sun is to the east of me

The east meets the west
on the web
it is either daybreak or nightfall

Come on, let’s turn orange
like the sun
As I am getting ready to carry the fragrance of
your hairs, blonde like ripe paddy,
to my granary










May 14, '08





When I wrote the poem 'DEPOSITION' everyone thought that it was a love poem. 

But to say the least, I didn’t write this poem after I met some lady in a loveable situation.
Of course, I gave a twist to the plot by giving a suggestion that something was in store for that evening....to which only the river could be a witness !! 
That is called poet's liberty you know.

Actually the pretty lady whom I met was an allegory.... 
Yes, she was a metaphor of something very beautiful, very desirable. 
And that beauty was lying in the particular environment : the riverside, the twilight just after the sunset on the horizon, the soft rains etc. 

No doubt that the situation would have been most desirable for every nature lover, every sensitive poet. 
But there is every chance of such unique situation lasting a very short period of time. 

Because the evening would be shortly illuminated by neon lights on the streets nearby, the electric power supply transforming every household in the vicinity to various sources of lights emanating therefrom. 

However to utter delight of the poet and may be to the romantic persona in him, the whole situation was saved by a sudden power cut (load-shedding) in the locality. 

Thus he could enjoy the beauty of the unique atmosphere for the time being. He had a desire for such a loveable aura, but hardly exert command over it. He was lucky that nature and his desire struck a deal. 

But, alas ! Had it lingered on a while…
...as the darkness was fast intruding. 

He would lose the sight very soon. He was no more at his liberty to enjoy what was given to him by nature, even though that was coincidentally enthused by non-interference of technology. 

So folks ! This poem actually had nothing to do with mortal love. Nor was it an example of amorous verse. 
Rather it had been a pure expression of desire to enjoy beauty of nature which was getting diluted amidst man-made situations. 

I am sorry !! But you are at your own liberty to judge and interpret it : I have no objection to it. 
Poetry as you know can’t remain in an air-tight compartment.


Cheers then, dear fropperites !








May 12, '08



Hello everybody ! Here is a poem by me. I would like you to read. Now get ready.....



Deposition 


Our meeting was unexpected 

She looked so pretty 
in the twilight of falling dusk by the riverside 

I thought of asking her name 
what else I could ask 

But before I enquired 
we were brought closer by the sound of the winds 
coming through the reeds 

I gasped for breath 
and to my utter surprise 
I found her so kind and pleasant

Thanks to the load-shedding, 
that so easily she could rub a breast 
of spirits on my lips 

The surrounding was enthused by drizzles 
that too on the bank of the river 

I forgot to walk back home 

But alas ! My poem, at that time, was censored 
by the engulfing darkness 

The river, shooting my pride, remained as witness 
to what happened that evening.
 



So dear fropperites ! Here ends my poem.


What Do you think about it ?

A love poem ? About the eternal man-woman relationship ?

Probably you have rejoiced to have a fellow fropperite writting on this topic.

But, hold your breath, this may not be a love poem !

Of course, you can interpret any poem according to your taste, and aptitude. But it is equally true that the poet's intention might be a different one.

So, give me your comments. 

And I will divulge my thoughts behind this humble (may be deceptive) creation. 

Wait for my next blog in a couple of days.








Apr 17, '08



The great singer-lyricist Dr. Bhupen Hazarika described Rongali Bihu ( the spring festival of Assam ) as not mere a season but a lifeline of the people of Assam - the unifying force of the people irrespective of caste, creed, community etc. Thus bihu plays a greater role in the society, but alas where have gone those days when people from every walks of life throng the bihu pandels to watch bihu functions without winking eyes, without any fear of any untoward incident, thanks to gun-trotting extremists of any hue !!

The composite Assamese society, which is the result of assimilation of different tribes and communities, has been plagued by a sense of distrust and suspicion. Divisive forces are gaining ground.

Bihu is primarily a festival of agricultural background. But agro-based rural folks are in constant fear of loosing its hold over market as elsewhere in India.

Echoing the spirit of a predominantly agrarian society, prasing mother nature, there are various forms of bihu dances practised by different tribes and communities. Earlier they were performed in open fields, under the banyan tree; but later they were brought to the modern atmosphere making them artificial to a large extent. Materialism come to the fore.

The traditional bath associated with bihu is symbolic of a cleansing process - much like nature's own way of wearing new in the spring season. Bihu is a significant reminder that Nature is the source of and it sustains all life. But do we, the rapists of the forests, the polluters of environment claim to be the celebrator or the inheritor of bihu spirit ?

Rongali Bihu, as the name signifies, is essentially a festival of merry-making through dance and song, woven round the themes of love and young nature. But over the years it has undergone changes. Some are unavoidable. But some are unhealthy trends that crept into the culture. Too much commercialisation, forceful collection of donations, overdose of pop culture, etc etc are doing more harm than good. Are we heading towards a total sacifice of Bihu at the altar of socalled modernity ?



 

 










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