It was not the distance but the direction That kept me from you Searching through cosmic marvels Within each duality Though I did hear your call And I know you heard mine Why else would I be drawn towards you? Irresistible, though the magnetic pull was no more than zero (and no less) Spinning through void within void Where energy is enslaved by vibration (and also conceived) I uttered the name of your sound The separation between you and I was devoid of space Even time did not dare All I had to do was wait If only I knew how…
Last Sunday, I met Shirish ji and found out that he paints as a hobby. Exactly one week later, early this morning, I messaged him to ask if I could see his paintings and perhaps use them as inspiration for my poetry. As I was falling asleep (for a very rare lie-in), some words came to me and I quickly jotted them down. I woke much later in the morning to find Shirish ji had messaged me and sent me some of his beautiful paintings under the series Pratiksha – Waiting. The poem I had jotted down was also about “waiting”! And yet I do not believe in coincidences! What do you think?
Many thanks to Shirish Pandit for the kind permission to use his painting for my poetry. Please do watch this space for more of his work.
tomorrow may never come because this night seems not to end
subh hoti hai, raat khatm nahin hoti The morning arrives but the night continues
the night did end but another night began tomorrow was not to be found neither was forever nor, you
Tum aaye ho na shab e intezar guzri hai talaash mein hai sehr baar baar guzri hai Neither have you come nor has this night of waiting come to an end in your search, the dawn has passed by again and again
This interaction was partly in Urdu, a deeply romantic language, for which I needed some help with translation. Thanks to Shakil Akhtarfor your beautiful couplet and to Mehshar for contributing Faiz Ahmed Faiz’s poignant couplet. Please also check out their blogs, very interesting!
at the point where night bids farewell she raises her head, crowned by a pallu of sizzling red, gold a slender mangalsutra enhances her slightly inverted neck
the strongest of henna the darkest of kohl the boldest of kumkum a piercing flame from the nath
as ittar fades into memories of a thousand jasmine buds crushed in vain
with the gentlest demeanor she did but bide her time
sweet were her tears what could she do? he swindled even the salt from her life
pallu – the trailing end of a sari, red and gold are bridal colours
mangalsutra – auspicious necklace of black beads and gold worn by a Hindu woman after her wedding
kumkum – red/vermilion powder used for bindi on the forehead and/or applied in the parting of a married woman’s hair
nath – referring to the nose ring worn by a bride
ittar – perfume made from flower petals
It is International Women’s Day and this poem is a (spontaneous) dedication to all the women who understand the crushing of hopes, but never in vain.
This poem was inspired by @temporal3‘s prompt on Twitter provided by @omerwahaj
(Raised up by a Crane
Crown of the Crane
Craned her neck)
This is a poetic interaction between Yagneshji and myself.
I read his post Where Are Youand spontaneously my response flowed. He writes poetry so beautifully and I assure you he is a natural born story teller. Check out his blog and you will not be disappointed.