Book
Three:
PERCEPTIONS
(1986)
“Atoms
of perception become intelligences, because they see, they know, and therefore
they are god.” - John Keats
FOREWORD
D. C. Chambial,
a sensitive and perceptive poet from Himachal Pradesh presents in the present
volume of selected poems published in various anthologies and journals of
repute in India and the USA. The poems have evolved considerable response from
readers and scholars.
He
seeks to effect a viable synthesis between the poetic and scientific
approaches. The several of his poems embody ideas which are rationally true yet
poetically beautiful. While reading the poems one feels the “gravitational
pull” to wander into the realms of gold. Mr. Chambial embodies modern
sensibility in artistic terms. I’m confident that the PERCEPTIONS will be of
great interest and appeal to readers.
Dr. Atma Ram
Principal
Govt
PG College, Dharamsala – 176 215 (HP)
1.
THE
RIPE TIME
deZ.;sokf/kdkjLrs
ek Qys"kq dnkpu A
ek
deZQygsrqHkwZekZ rs l³xksΣLRodeZf.kAA [the script is in devanagari script]
(The Gita II 47)
I
have a few acres of land;
With
the coming of rains,
Thundering
of clouds
I
get ready to sow the seeds.
Piercing
the heart, furrowing
The
land, the plough moves.
The
soil is ready, the rain is over.
It’s
time; it’s time to sow the seeds.
I
have a belle blithe and debonair.
She
sings, snorts, laughs,
Weeps
and fumbles.
Is
it time; is it time to sow the seeds?
I
am an honest peasant; believe
In
sowing the seeds
Not
reaping the harvest.
It
is time to sow the seeds…
2.
TO
HER LUSCIOUS LAKE
Always
I see her, as I sit in my chair
Staring
intently into the void
With
dark, cool and calm eyes
Full
of grave thoughts within her bones
Struggling
like lava beneath
The
granite rock
Boiling,
thundering, flowing violently
Round
in a circle
With
the hope of finding
Some
door to come out.
The
gleam from her eyes escapes
The
window panes, past tree-sentinels
To
rub cheeks against the silvery mounts.
Cherubic
lips close, doors locked,
Chin
rests on the fore-finger of her hand;
Still,
brows un-fatigued blink not.
Graphite
hair, the background.
Smile
shuns stepping forth her lips.
Dew
drops at dawn
On
a petal in the lap of a flower.
Azure
sky steadily opens the flood-gates.
Grave
things ride tranquility.
Her
lovely, naïve face entices
One
to the luscious lake.
Enjoy
the ripples, brave the storms
In
the ocean of turbulent norms.*
3.
LET
US MARCH
Let
us march, today, in search
of
that piece of land
where
bloom none of our present
religions
prawning hatred
of
man against man;
swords
and bullets run not across
human
shores. I know not
what
Hinduism, Shintoism, Buddhism,
Sufism,
Sikhism, Taoism, Zoroastrianism,
Confucianism,
Judaism, Christianity, or
Islam’s
spiritual bonds strengthen
when
man’s love for man turns
into
man’s beastly acts of wild horrors.
Let
us march, today, hand in hand
concatenating
souls like beads
into
the thread of the greatest ROSARY,
the
ever cherished HUMANISM.
Same
blood, bones and flesh,
speak
with the same tongue;
same
deciphering minds and eyes
make
us look alike,
tread
the same Earth under the same sky,
breathe
the same air, same water drink.
Why
not help this Earth
bloom
into Heaven
where
there is God’s plenty,
plan
not to make it stink?
World
is too much, the life too small!
Let
us march in search of that heaven
where
milk of humanity gushes out
and
springs of fraternal love flow.
The
clean air fills lungs, and live in
mellifluous
melody. Where Satan
plays
no havoc. No Eve enticed into
Eternal
Sin. Where the air reverberates
with
Buddha’s sermons, Krishna’s Gita,
Moses’
band defies all the forces of Pharaoh.
Let
us march into that land and time
where
colour and creed do not impede.
Impede
not the free flow of fellow feeling
where
breeds not communal cacti.
The
Nile, the Volga, the Mississippi
and
the Ganga flow together
balming
the wounded hearts;
eagle
and dove, wolf and lamb
fun
and frolic; silently flows
the
music of sonorous streams.
No
thunderbolts, no sulphurous flames.
Bright
sun shines over the eastern hill
To
soothe the sorrow, sore wounds to fill.
4.
LEADING
TO THE BRINK
Storms
rave in the sky,
mind
melts into gelatin.
Fighting
fissures ebb and tide
like
the waves of a sea wild.
Passionate
hands
clutter
like bones
at
the fall of Sodom
and
Gomorrah; time raped
Nineveh,
Babylon,
Harappa,
Carthagea and Rome.
Who
sure?
Silent
stream flows
fire
to fire
by
the frozen hearts.
Foot-falls
echo in cranium
and
towers crumble down.
Door
closed last year
still
closed.
Some
stasis?
Oblivious
about time-foetus
dead
past moans.
Fire
and water flame and flow
through
the same shocked eyes
at
the fall of sun.
Night
thoughts linger beneath the bones.
Let’s
walk heads drooping
through
the burning land
where
the spiritless men
race
in labyrinthine
over
the sinking bridges
towards
and alley blind.
Stars
laugh at the plight of bold
man
leading to the brink
of
Nineveh and dinosaurs!
5.
THE
SERMON
Addressing
His first disciples
Gathered
to have His message
Ere
they part to embark
The
doctrine of the Enlightened One.
He
sat among them
The
most humble, the most sagacious,
The
most austere, the most enlightened;
Cast
His eyes around,
Convinced
of the ardent desire
Of
the chosen ones to spread
The
light of His vision.
Gems
flowed from His tongue:
Go,
go away, my choicest ones
Diffusing
the mellifluous fragrance
Of
the eternal knowledge
Into
the land putrefied and stale
To
absolve the poor of their sin.
You
wander forth: East and West
North
and South
For
the gain of many,
For
the weal of many
Out
of compassion and out of love,
For
the good and gain, for the redemption of all
Proclaim
O Bhikhoos! The doctrine glorious.
Preach
a life of holiness, perfection and purity.
Throw
to the wind the claim of cast and creed;
Out
of love and compassion hug humanity.
Hearing
words these, flowed down their cheeks
The
innocent tears of joy and happiness.
To
their prophet, they wished farewell.
They
peeped and saw through
The
glistening glory of their deed
Of
uplifting the depraved humanity
Serving
as the beacon heads,
Went
they. They went far and wide
With
nectar in their voice
Heedless
about the sun and showers
On
the thorny ways and dark towers.
They
went to sixty sides,
On,
on and on they went.
May
the truth be yours!
May
the light be yours!
6.
THE
DIFFERENCE
A
cat –
the
meekest hen raises her plumes
to
scare it away
from
her chicken.
A
cat
seizes
the bowl of milk
from
the hands of a baby;
the
father drudges in office,
mother
at the type-writer
dreams
to spend the evening
at
some fashionable discotheque
and
listen to the music.
The
maid-servant
plans
with watchman
about
her date.
The
baby cries,
looks
up for help
to
get back the bowl;
overpowered
by sleep
lies
down on the cold floor:
robbed
of milk, robbed of love.
Tears
roll down the cheeks.
7.
THE
ARGOSY
I
plunge
into
the deep green waters
of
the ocean of life
in
search of snow-white pearls,
blood-red
corals
at
the bottom of sea.
The
monster entwines
tentacles;
the profane fingers
dilated
with sinister intent
tighten
hold on the neck.
The
water is red:
crabs
and sharks feed
on
flesh and bones.
The
light from the rock
signals
amidst fog:
the
argosy of hopeful cargo
struggles
in the dark
beneath
the weltering waves
in
search of a bright haven.
8.
THE
LAPICIDE
Thah! Thah!
Her
hammer rises and falls
on
the stones breaking
monotony
of the hot air.
The
sweat drops down,
the
rosy cheeks,
the
brawny muscles,
desiderates
into the air.
A
baby on the pebbles
and
a passer-by
hear
the continuous sound
of
the hammer on the stones.
The
Sun at vernal height.
Blistering
sun and fatigue
enfeeble
her not to coruscate
her
ever beaming smile.
One
is enticed to stare
with
wonder and love!
She
serves unto Him
and
Humanity.
Now
and then
the
baby cries with hunger:
wipes
her sweat from her face
and
sits down on a stone
to
suckle the child – manna.
Kisses
on the forehead
to
frighten the fatigue away.
Rises,
again, to repeat
the
Thah, Thah.
She
swims and soars
in
her heaven far away
from
the thickets
of
this weary jungle.
9.
ECHO
Don’t
blush nor
entice
by kisses for
tonight’s
wild, wild dreams.
The
foxes and the wolves howl.
The
ravines echo the sound
of
sedition all around.
Stones,
at the bottom of the river,
wail.
Corpse moans and groans to be warm
after
the mob has melted away.
There
will be time enough
to
share the nudities
when
the foxes and wolves
stop
howling; rats shut in holes
lest
we would be parted poles
to
celebrate consummation.
10.
A
POEM
Come,
I’ll
be by you.
Sand
dunes,
Glaciers
and floods
Flow
in blood.
Story
quite unbelievable!
World
sinks into mud
of
Lethe.
Boisterous
lake is full.
Who
is to draw from it?
Sun
settles down.
Foxes
out for carcass.
Cold
wriggles.
Brain
parched.
Hands
and mind
amputated
not severed
for
SOS Hands.
11.
TESTIMONY
To
satiate inner urge
a
super-scientist
in
a super-lab
designed
a super-man.
Fire
life!
Good
God!
Super-scylla
ran
out
devouring,
devastating.
When
none left
recoiled
upon father
to
satiate the devil
in
stomach.
Head
on palms,
amazed,
agonized,
eyes
suffused,
cheeks
flooded.
Stupefied
lay
helpless
before
invention.
Sighs
of wind,
tears
of rain
called
in testimony:
it
were YOU!
12.
PENDULUM
Knocking
at the door
the
echoing beats of
Khabardar!
Khabardar!
Drag
one
from
the domain of dream.
Stone,
stubble, tree,
mountain
and men melt
into
a harmonized mass.
He
caresses the midnight
December
chilly wind
rubs
his feet on the lane,
the
cheeks of frosty fog.
Bare-footed
shakes the silence
of
the sea of black,
whispering
night,
yet
oscillates like a pendulum
counting
the ticks of life
while
frost gains weight.
Echoes
the shrill sound:
Khabardar!
Khabardar!
13.
THE
BURNING LAND
There
she sits
by
the thin, lean riverside,
dangles
her legs in the cold water
and
suckles her child
her
bare, famished breasts.
The
hawks and vultures
fly
and cry
some
intelligible notes
in
the sky;
narrow
in gyres
to
unaccountable pyres.
Down,
down and down
they
descend and make
the
contiguous rock
their
berth.
In
the West
a
light several million times
brighter
and hotter
than
the one
at
Nagasaki and Hiroshima
burns
all bones.
With
her swollen eyes
she
lullabies
her
weeping babe
with
the softest melodies.
The
fire breaks up.
All
is turned to naught.
Birds
and vessels clatter,
forests
and deserts batter.
With
lightning and thunder
the
black clouds peep from
over
the Himalayas.
The
wind tries in vain
to
balm the wounded hearts.
The
frogs croak.
Hawks
and vultures
fly
away.
Yet
she sits and waits …
14.
FOG
The
wretched fog
Slowly
and steadily lingers on
Over
the river, stream,
Vale
and dale
To
mountain top.
The
trees,
Temples
and mosques
Stand
swallowed.
The
Sun
Paragon
of truth, beauty and goodness
Also
veiled up.
Trembling
ox and cow
Terrorized
beneath the Eternal tree.
The
fog comes riding
A
black chariot, driven
By
black horses.
Hopes
are duped.
Neither
warmth nor light,
Rain
– a dream!
We
stand in winter
Happy
by the fire-side
Telling
about the abortive tales
Prone
to keep the beds warm
Fighting
unknown phantoms.
15.
THE
FLAME
The
flame flickered
and
burnt on.
A
moth
enamoured
of its beauty
came
straight
and
burnt its wings.
A
gush of wind
in
vain tried to gain
its
abject end
but
only passed by.
You
and I
play
the flame and moth:
I
am crippled by the heat of love.
The
glimmer of glow-worms,
a
gush of wind
tries
in vain
to
achieve the foul aim.
I
think and for sure construe
It’ll
pass by too.
16.
DARKNESS
Without
–
the
Sun, the Moon
and
the stars
try
to fight
the
darkness of the night.
Within
–
I
vainly try to light
with
electric lamps
of
myriad shades
to
compose myself.
I
see more gloom
in
the light of shades
than
the darkness
where
shadows melt
to
emerge
homogeneous.
17.
PERISHING
MAN
As
I dare peep out
through
the window,
eyes
reel
at
the sight of a whirligig
nourishing
in
the lee of pythons …
Headless
bodies
march
in
a
mute procession
leading
to a maze …
Terrible
cries follow
in
an uproar
without
human shores.
Numberless
snakes
leave
holes in Siberia
to
live in cities …
Strange!
Can’t shut eyes.
Ignorance
and greed …
Perishing
Man?
18.
THE
CRUSTED RIVER
See
those lovely marble hands
Intractable
to sweep
The
litter of clattering bones.
Curly,
graphite lock of hair
Licks
the crimson cheeks
In
the infancy of the day.
Innocence
gapes at the anserine
Heap
of human absurdities
Swoon
before the prowling eyes.
Mechanic
hands with
Robot
eyes flow over
The
crusted river.
An
intercourse in annus mirabilis
Delivers
spectrum images
Through
the loins of pregnant mind.
Fall
down broken images
Wounded,
limp; gasp and deride
The
human absurdities.
19.
STOLID
WALLS
We
sit
facing
the stolid walls
laughing,
sobbing,
shedding
tears,
listening
to the owls
nestled
in roof.
Sounds
echo and frighten.
We
have seen
cats
and dogs
growl
and caterwaul,
blood
bedaubed,
heads
frigid.
We
simply imitate,
feel
proud and civilized
within
the stolid walls.
The
world without –
Vast
and deep!
Vast
and deep!
20.
QUAGMIRE
Desperately
I’ve
tried and tried
to
crawl under the rock
but
lay there
bruised
and bleeding,
listless
until
I
heard the soft
song
of the wind.
Serpents
hissed,
frogs
croaked.
Lingering
air
tried
to coax
fire
to light.
I
sank
like
a stone
into
the quagmire
of
time.
21.
THIS
THE MAN!
As
he dares peep
through
the window
at
dark clouds
in
the evening,
blood
spreads
before
the pallid eyes.
On
the sunken road
after
a shower, a cog
listens
to the shouts
of
Marks and Mao.
The
octopus tentacles suck
every
drop of blood,
deafens
the whirr of machines.
Space
shuttles
faithfully
obey Einstein.
An
arrow of pain
penetrates
deep
each
nerve of heart and head;
dumbfounded
begin to reel
with
the reeling Earth
and
vision every
historic
revolution
of
man for man by man.
Listen
to the sermons
on
the mount, under the tree;
slogans
chop the heart,
speeches
mock at the starving
crying
for left-overs.
This
the MAN!
22.
TRUTH
Come,
sit by me
that
we may talk of love and truth:
truth
– that was,
truth
– that is.
I’ve
been skeptive
about
the truth of things:
birth,
death;
spring,
winter;
a
clear bright day.
About
storm, clouds,
wind’s
fury, lightning
full
of fiery shouts;
rivers,
pastures,
the
game, the hunter;
the
child-hearted and those
well
versed in vulpine ways.
the
songs of birds,
of
the leaves;
the
words that buzzed
by
the ears and passed by
before
I could catch.
Ignorant,
helpless!
Life
time not enough
to
know the stuff –
love
and truth.
One
must dive
to
know the world,
love
and truth.
A
silent song reverberates
deep
in heart:
they
in me, I in them.
The
cosmos contracted in me.
I
dissolved and diffused
to
the bounds of cosmos.
Good
or bad
in
love and truth,
knowing
and not knowing:
Brahmoasmi!
23.
SILENCE
In
the silence of the seas
I
smell a perilous storm
Brewing
in the womb of time.
The
simmering silence of the night
Foretells
the frosty morning
Crawling
on the outskirts.
The
sobbing silence
Among
the leaves of the forest
Harbingers
the bloody fire.
The
silence of your lips
Reflects
storms disastrous
Somewhere
in the deeps of mind.
The
silence of heart more vexing
Than
all seas and storms.
A
lesson taught by time.
24.
MAZE
OF WORDS
How
desperately
I’ve
tried and tried
to
break the chakravyuha
with
shield and sabre
of
words.
A
fortress
of
words and figures
around
my transpiring self
from
mid-night dreams.
The
words envenom my sores.
Figures
weave a cocoon
making
me a captive
in
the dungeon forever.
25.
FIRE
TEST
Cover
her face, eyes dazzle.
She’s
sacrificed young.
She
hadn’t yet seen
the
rich hues of Spring,
the
dewy petals
scarcely
ventured out
to
the light without
from
the orthodox prison.
Frolicking
lamb
in
the verdures of life,
unaware
of the pitfalls, snares
laid
by the raven and vultures
for
the capture of dove and doe.
She’s
snared
Unconscious
of the din within.
Sulphurous
flames rise
Rise
sky high.
Oh!
Not a Sita
Undergoing
the fire test.
She’d
proved, she proves
the
innocence
of
the heart so fair.
To
what other fires
yet
to be put before
pronounced
guiltless;
faith,
freedom, right
restored
to her.
26.
RISING
IMAGES
Vultures,
Crows,
jackals,
Dogs:
Blood
and carcass.
Frost.
Frog
and mist.
Grenades,
guns, bombs:
Explosions
and fire.
Cancerous
heads
on
polio legs,
Blood,
Bones:
Tears.
Water,
water, water …
27.
A
CROP
Monkeys
yesterday.
Today
crows
Look
for seeds:
Hope
and sustenance
Buried
deep in the soil.
The
time ripe.
It
didn’t rain.
Fangs
of cold tighten hold.
Stones
freeze by the river.
They
resolved to raise
A
crop of venom
with
guns and bullets.
Sat
frolicking
With
the boomeranging images
Within
the precincts of skull
By
the ROCK.
Clouds
of flood
Flowed
in blood;
Manu saved.
Run
like the piper of Hamlin
Enraged
towards the mountains
With
my children of fancy.
28.
CRASH
OF WORDS
I
followed
What
you said.
I
do not follow
What
you say.
I’ll
follow
What
you say
Only
after the cloud
Of
gloom disappears
With
the crash of words
From
YOUR lips into my bowl
On
the battlefield of Mahabharata.
29.
BRAHMOASMI
Whenever
you hear me says
Brahmoasmi
You
try to scuttle across
The
layers of primordial,
Or
may be, archetypal thought.
I’m
what I’m not.
Something
beyond present,
Before
past,
Or
after future,
Who
knows?
May
be a conglomeration of
Meditation,
thought, soul,
And
sensation.
But
what am I?
The
question haunts, echoes,
Reverberates
and booms
In
an attempt to find
An
answer from eternal springs
Of
budding thoughts.
A
distant light
Tells
in a voiceless voice:
I’m
you; you are Me.
Sing
the song of eternity –
Brahmoasmi!
brahmoasmi!
30.
DELIVERANCE
Morning
cool, calm and quiet
Condescending
to be compromising.
Blood
bath prawns youthful hue
With
a promise of transformation
Into
the heat of the day, life and love
Promiscuous
molecules of ice
Into
liquid they readily metamorphosize;
Prismatic
dewy jewels
Rise
from slumber to fly and dissolve
Into
the air above stripping the barriers;
For,
stripping is must to come closer
To
feel the heat, vibrations riding.
Profuse
hymns of birds fly past
Bourns
of the age and continents,
Venture
to marry the hymns of bards.
Should
we come closer or part away?
He
comes over, she slips ahead
With
full swerve and vigour of plasma.
Should
we withdraw from the game?
Perhaps
not. May win at the next.
We
are not to say, our dead
We
fail you, when you are dead
The
common father
Of
the warring sons and brothers,
Now
you are dead – before you died.
Flinch
not an inch from heinous acts
As
the solid earth rotates.
Should
we come closure or part away?
Seen
them cherishing meals by a river.
Indolent.
The bridge falling down
Under
the weight of mechanic men
Racing
unmindful of the moments.
Let’s
come closure. Skin to skin. Minds
Repel
like magnetic poles spin
On
anxiety’s wheel weaving cobweb
Of
miasms. The acrimonious odium
Dormant
in the heart of Otto-atom
Ready
to engulf Raman rays with that
Enormous
Einsteinian fire.
Yawns
there the ferocious dragon.
Discovered
lands, scaled new heights
On
the earth, in space, for superiority.
Should
we come closer or part away?
With
the lover of music travelled
Into
space along with Ms Bright,
Returned
yesterday overwhelmed.
Try
to wade through the river of dark
With
the light of age old human ken.
The
nocturnal octopus twines
Tentacles
around its prey,
Sinks
to the bottom with blood
Squeezed
and bones crushed.
Larceny
of rosaceous lips
Incites
animal within
Before
the penitent moment is born.
Absconding
eagle flies from Ajanta
In
search of thousand Buddhas
To
find both ends of Wanli Chancheng.
Should
we come closer or part away?
Stumbles
at the door of a vaticinator
In
a vain hope of vaticination
Gazing
at the VLA video screen
To
incarcerate world of Pulsars & Quasars.
The
bang of eye follows Big Bang.
Looking
into the hole of cosmos
Arjuna’s
amaze knows no bounds.
He
stops to find the ground
Of
his faith moving fast
Blowing
the scruples like fag ends.
I
stop to find where they had
Had
their last supper together.
The
dead ash, smoky stones and
Burnt
wood tell the tale of night.
Should
we come closer or part away?
What
mermaids were they singing
Symphonies
on waves? Hair flowing
Down
Venusian orbs, spectrum mounts
To
touch the ground. Eyes fixed on stars.
A
marvelous race on Earth, mind on Mars.
In
this land of gods, only gods work,
Minds
starve and commit suicide.
Snakes
have their peculiar code,
For
they can’t brook the dishonor
Of
doves and lambs escaping their orbits,
Prefer
foxes to oxen and dally
In
the venom of their own secretions.
Should
we come closer or part away?
Unaware
of the Day of Judgement
The
stings are always venomous,
The
snakes to perish like rats of Hamlin.
Pay
a visit to us, O, the Piper!
Tend
to your cows and sheep again
The
land teems in blood thirsty wolves.
Already
spent sleepless nights counting
Stars
in the galaxy and the ticks of time.
Gaze
at the horizon and
The
sky for deliverance.
Should
we come closer or part away?
31.
NUDE
THEY CAME
Nude they came to the shore
Dancing, singing: what more! What more!
They raised their hands towards the sky
Despite their best they could not pry
Yet tried to know what’s rotten at the
core?
They sat down on the grains of sand
With their eyes on the foam waves grand
In a hope to discern a ray of light
In the perilous sea of their plight
Yet tried to figure in mind the curves
of land.
The sea waves rose and struck against
the bank
Cringing ashore the jettison of the
highest rank.
Stood, saw, heard the musical dance of
the waves.
Stepped forth to poise the melody from
the watery graves.
Through present, the past and future
they tried to plank.
Higher and higher grew the waves
With dancing steps to the glistening
graves
And, like the Pied Piper’s rats, began
to jump
Into the fathomless water over the hump
And perished one by one in the watery
graves.
32.
THE
CRACKING EARTH
O
Lord, show us the light –
Why
man bent upon perishing the MAN?
Why
perpetrating hunger and starvation?
O
Lord, show us the light!
The
young dies. Earth cracks day and night.
Why
the heart hardened, unable to scan?
O
Lord, show us the light -
Why
man bent upon perishing the MAN?
O
Lord, what made you withdraw
In
this game of banging arms?
Where
the LOVE? Why the rule of awe?
O
Lord, what made you withdraw?
Why
the thirst for blood? Why gnaw
The
founts of sweetness, light and charms?
O
Lord what made you withdraw
In
this game of banging arms?
33.
THE
RAINBOW FOUNTAIN
The
mountain top far away
Touches
the blue sky above.
Birds
chirp sonorous notes
Amid
thick June mango grove.
The
snow cool and bright
Beckons
from far away;
Leaps
up the heart in delight,
With
mid-day-mist yearns to fly.
Rising
fog steadily swallows
The
mountain, the grove, the snow.
The
eyes languish for some mellow
Sight
that in the field of fancy grows.
Fluffy
flakes of clouds embrace trees,
Snow,
mountains. People come and go.
Crowds
throng, watch slow and slow.
Pine
for the rainbow fountain and freeze.
34.
RAPT
MOMENTS
To
perpetuate life after life
the
ocean spread his chest shine with
bright
sheen stolen from the Sun
in
the lap of Dhauladhar.
The
music of the stream beside
transports
these rapt moments
of
sanguine serenity
to
the Hippocrene, the Hybla-bees.
Eyes,
prying into the soil for the smell sweet,
espy
into the womb of sky.
Strip-teased
by the joy of moments mute –
a
prey to the hour of solitude.
Rise
not smoke!
Let
the moments coalesce
And
flow into eternity
Boost
human fraternity.
35.
PEACE
MUTILATED
The
isle
Surrounded
by water,
Wolves
lick the innocent blood.
How
sad!
All
guns
And
bullets’ use
Loss
at the face of their
Dazzling
eyes await rain.
Peep
deep
Into
your serene,
Calm,
cold eyes dare decipher
Wailing
moments unborn.
Ashen
hopes wither.
For
them star-wars dearer
Than
love and life here.
You
need think no more!
36.
RAIN
OF BLISSFUL TEARS
How
lovely! The hills,
Trees,
new-born snow, birds,
Kites
flying between two worlds –
Infinite,
undiscovered and the sinking.
The
cloud
Come,
thunder,
Run
under the Sun –
A
rain of blissful tears.
I
could not but read in pupils
As
she comes prancing like a fawn
Fresh
from the pasture,
The
agony buried in her mind.
Toss
lovely trees to and fro
In
rock and roll, tell teed off hearts
How
to live together in peace
At
the face of sinking earth.
Tell
them who is left to rule
After
the atom’s fiery gale?
None
to sing the madrigal,
None
to sing the woeful tale!
37.
THE
GASPS OF EARTH
Pendent
from the aurorean sky
Over
the ridge
Of
a milk-white mountain
Legs
skyward
Head
below …
A
stream of milk
Rushes
forth from the fingers
And
blood floods
In
the mind; sheen of light
Dazzles
eyes
And
feel the gasps of Earth
With
throbbing heart.
38.
RENDEZVOUS
The
river in spate.
On
this bank
belles
wash hands
knee-deep
in water.
On
that stands
An
old banyan tree.
The
soul fords through
the
brown water
from
the banyan
to
the woman.
A
ferocious bull
full
passionate,
the
reptile strewn cliffy path
top
reach
the
rendezvous –
brightly
lit oasis
in
the heart
of dreary desert.
39.
YELLOW
FATE
I
must confess:
no
car, perhaps,
enough
money
to
treat you
in
some restaurant –
a
rendezvous.
To
mesmerize,
to
shake hands.
My
wealth,
my
works,
I
construe,
may
not entice you.
Handles
and means
Mean.
I
pack my sack of songs
and
tread along
the
foot-path
in
search of a Buddha,
a
Socrates
among
red, blue and green,
but
yellow
is my fate.
40.
ADIEU
What
a beautiful bud she was!
Just
begun to bloom
In
this earthly paradise.
I
know her to be fairer
Than
one …
The
Trojan was fought –
Left
the city a carcass.
Even
the one for whom
Pururva
fought the demons
In
the battlefield of welkin
And
made his love.
When
I saw her first
She
had hardly her teens past,
A
narcissus among the daffodils.
A
red, red rose she was!
I
knew her,
And
she knew me well.
Full
of pearls she was,
Could
express her sighs well.
I
did not like Browning tell
For
you heard my heart’s voiceless voice,
I,
to the depth of your eyes, fell;
Fell
umpteen times with your honey’d voice.
Your
voice dropped to the bottom of my ear
And
did lilt me on the cradle of air
And
delighted in ‘unheard melodies’ –
Bliss
it was. More bliss I did crave.
In
her I saw all the beauties of the world.
With
her all the happy kingdoms I ruled.
She
an oasis in the heart of a desert,
An
enlivening to the blistering heart.
When
I saw her last on her ailing bed:
Up
the mounts, down the depths,
Beyond
the valleys of her tread.
Her
eyes shut, her lips mute,
With
cock’s crowning she fell dead.
You
my pole star, I a solitary ship.
Sure
to catch you on your trip.
41.
SUMMER
TO SOUTH
Earth
and sky,
Day
and night,
Living
and dead
Vibrate
in resonance
To
the thunder
Here
and above.
Let
us not be oblivious of Him
Who
steers our ship
From
Summer to South.
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