Warning!

Can I claim a thought to be mine ? I must have read it or heard it somewhere - surely, it can't be mine. If not now, sometime soon, I hope there will be a few original lines.

I wish I could say for myself Seamus Heaney's lines from "Digging":

Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests.
I’ll dig with it.

(First posted on the first day ... May 24, 2009 ...)

p.s.

I used to read Byron and project his life onto his poetry. Before I tried Ted Hughes, I remembered Sylvia Plath and a gas stove. But, whenever I read Wuthering Heights or Remembrance, I realize that I do not know much about Emily Bronte. Who knows what they wanted to say nor what made them say what they had to say. Maybe, they wanted us to join them in creation.

10 People To Meet At The Coffee House

· Ingrid Bergman
· Caravaggio
· Pierre-Gilles de Gennes
· Nadine Gordimer
· Aung San Suu Kyi
· Vanessa Paradis
· Ayn Rand
· Arundhati Roy
· Erwin Schrodinger
· Oscar Wilde

These are not people I revere (if there is such a list). These are the people who affected me – maybe, with character, with elegant writing, with an image or a style, with their philosophy or the way they pursued their philosophy. I might not agree with them but I would like to sit across a coffee table, to have a brief discussion and to recollect that which shaped my life.

biodata

an unknown person
in an unknown place

sans form sans name
i will pass on like a dream

or maybe
a nightmare

Trust these words no more (1999-2001)

Trust these words no more,
my dear. Without you,
merely to kill time,
strangely I decay.
Alone
with sense of reflections
that is marred by breath,
wishing it were not so
but then, there is nothing.

When will I … (2004)

When will I write the line-
When my fingers tremble-
When feelings shall pour
Over parched land,
The drought’s been long;
When the mind is awake-
When the chains are broken-
When the long labour’s done
And I can rest, then I will write.

To pen … (2003)

To pen a new line.
To edit by the rules.
To erase the spirit.
To succumb to readers.
To forget senses dead.
To pen the last line.

My pal Dodo (1999-2001)

My pal Dodo is a weirdo.
Own boast. Used as epitaph.
Two n’ half `ll be the crowd
at my grave, he used to say:
Him, his buddy the beggar,
the half the worms won’t touch.

Looking at trees, leaves, thrown fags,
smiling at the sun and blue skies;
glassy eyes searching among shadows;
trying to be a gent with clown’s rags;
till the day he was on the blind spot.
Did we put him in the coffin, my pal Dodo ?

To Money (1998)

Pale grey turning green-
Ever turning the world,
Controlling the mirth,
Dishing out anguish,
Defining relationships.
Yesterday’s lovers,
Today’s friends,
Tomorrow’s strangers.
Shylock’s grace
Was openness;
But here,
Deceptive generosity
Marks your path, O Money…

There is a past… (1999-2001)

There is a past
when the future
was known to me.
I had a dream.
I said,
I have a dream;
she looks
with a sad smile
knowing of the parting;
I watch beauty
and call it love;
life is a night sky
with her eyes
my guiding stars.
I say,
I had a dream;
she looked
with a sad smile
knowing of the parting;
I know;
her eyes like stars
hide behind dark clouds,
life is a stormy sky
with none to guide;
I watch beauty
and still call it love.
I have no dream.
There is a future
when the past
is all that I know.

n.b.

A psycho (logist) might study patterns in expressed thoughts. A reader might realize that it is just (a) lack of style/substance due to sheer laziness (b) limited vocabulary (c) intentional choice.

Thought of a walk (2006)

Thought of a walk
To those green hills
Behind those clouds.
That was a morning thought.
I knew what the day brought.
Vanishing clouds,
Slum scarred slopes.