Saturday 16 April 2011

SONGS FROM SHIMLA

          - Dr. D. B. GAVANI

I. THE NEW LIFE

Open up thy lotus lips
From where the honey slips
Like a spring window dew
On the black cosmos hue
Sweep away from the earth
Like a golden fire in hearth.

Fly! Fly away in the cradle
Newly dressed in a bridle
Like an angel from the forest
With green grandiosity’s purest
And cheery soul of content
Like a blooming lily’s consent.

Rest and arrest in the bosom
Kiss and hiss the microcosm
Like a double – tongued snake
In the bunch of ripened stake
Where climbers hang bee hives
Like a venomous sting tilts lives.

Live and leave the world
Enter the centre of the crowd
Like a commander of mind
In the crunches of the kind
When trees bow down to feet
Like a heavy-hooded fleet.

II. THE NEW PARADISE

When shall I enter your heart?
My body rests and mind minces
The salvation of slave’s old fences
That seized my paths of chariot.
The long standing sacred forest
That preserved sumptuous manna dew
Quenched the hunger of love’s rue
And compassion crumbled to rest.
My soul searches for the New Paradise
That enthralls the enigmatic hope of Eden
Emerges the emotions of Love-laden
Lure the luscious lustre in surmise.

I wander when the world is in bed
I sleep after all the jovial tears shed.


III. THE CAULDRON

My torn thoughts steadily trek
Under the torrential turfs
Where the ant hills are built
And lay the eggs of eruptions
Importing from fashion to nation
From generation to degeneration
In the crux of the cheerful morn.

Homeless I stay and stay and away
Beneath the pristine tamarind tree
Where monkeys grin and giggle
Spark the fire of sanctified feelings
Extenuating fright among religions
From caste to intercaste and sects
In boiling the cauldron at .

Foodless I survive and live and leave
Deep down the green valley
Where wild animals always hawk
Haplessly harmonize my senses
Sequestering the senile sympathy
From class to glass and lass to ass
In the melting pot at the evening.

Emotionlessly I cry and cry and pry
On the lawns of the lax lassies
Where belle in the boutique bass
Bequeath the belligerent emotions
Segregating the easeful empathies
From sex to gender policies and politics
In the poetics of the late night. 

  IV. A NEW GOAL

She who sat upon my head
Gave me this face and hand
Leg to put my steps on sand
To mark the records in the red.

She nourished me with compassion
Presented eyes to see the glory on earth
Ears to hear and tongue to taste the mirth
Here a day stands a century’s tradition.

She blessed me with a heaven
Crafted heart to create an art
Mind to master the million hearts
To engraft the nature at even.

She stood and stared at the soul
And she perceived to set a new goal.

V. ONE AND ANOTHER

He asked of me more than them
In a grudge and grumbling voice
Bruised his ideas with vivid choice
That sinews slumped to fulcrum
He set back and snarled pale
Enchanted regardless range of dale.

His harsh sounds stuck my mind
I know not ‘who I really am’
This is not my globe to lie calm
Where I shall search sweet kind
Colours of rainbow in morn dew
That garlands the gates of sky in hue.

My parents fostered me at UK
Fetched me to Belgaum and Hyderabad
Where ‘I’ culture crushed me in sad
Love and death dips me in hemlock
I am One and belong to Other
I am None on birth to bother.

They framed me in solitary reaper
I drink and dine alone on table
I move and love sans la’ belle
Like green leafless climbing creeper
To knock the doors of new cosmos
I have no person on Christmas.

I desire no more for ‘her’
In another paradise on Holy Day
They know not my glebe’s way
New tradition of living to-get-her
I recreate ‘one’ culture tomorrow
We rejoice on the cheery morrow.

VI. A LAMP

The flowing water and the rustling leaves
The blowing wind and a burning fire
At the enemies from a distant sire
Like a thunderbolts on the mango groves.

The roaring tigers and the barking dogs
The hooting owl and a clucking cock
Forecasts the end from the bombers’ dock
Like a flashing perfumes of demi-gods.

The growing infants and the dreaming dames
The lingering lads and the wandering bards
Sing the chorus in the springs of sods
Like a sizzling popcorns in the flames.

The glowing sun and the shining moon
The glaring planets and the twinkling stars
Keep an eye of watch from the Mars
Like a sprinkling showers of motherly boon.

The ageing man with a pleasing voice
Breathing melody of musing heart
Ease the soothing soul to depart
Like a lamp to rejoice.


VII. INSOMNIA

The portrait of dame in my heart
Always steels the sleep at night
The dreadful dreams tread the sight
Like a lunatic in the Vinci’s art.

Her curly hair crowns the crest
The nectar swells from her rosy lips
The buzzing bees with golden gifts
Silently succumb the honey in her breast.

She is at her with her full moon
And bubbles over a zealous joy
Concealing her charms in the shy
She beholds my heart with noble boon.

She always speaks gently in my ears
How nicely she soothes my soul
Holding tight-twisted snakes in a hole
She engraves insomnia of love all the years.

VIII. SHIMLA

What a mysterious beauty you hold
With your enchanting charms on your face
Where roses and rhododendrons bloom at pace
A happy paradise you lovely mould.

You dazzle cheekily with the tall pine trees
To kiss the heavenly abode in the sky
Culminating with stately cedars in joy
The languid mists flow in the breeze.

The gentle beauty with calm clime
The bed of ferns and the heap of lichens
On her trunk with lofty moss awakens
The splendid sunset across mountains’ mime.

You haply embrace the gurgling gorges
Amidst the fragrant wild flowers in glens
Nurturing apple orchards on the plains
Glorify thy trinkets in ilex groves.

Your nature oft alter the admiring designs
Thy culture curves the delicate chasms
Your glory is sung in the sacred psalms
Forever you fascinate my heart in vivid scenes.

I regain my Muse on thy snowy horizon
Thy tender sweetness inspires my sobbing heart
Thy immortal sublimity sways my thought
Oh my Shimla! Thou art God’s mystic region.
 
IX. A New Era in Shivalik

A new dawn in the foothills of Kalka
Captured the cosmic crescendo creation
Of the gracious incessant gaiety
Among the golden misty clouds
In the Shivalik mountain ranges.

The gigantic hills and vales across plains
Decked didactically like a maiden
Affectionately baptized Shivalik Express
Marches on narrow gauge in gregarious style
Leaving exciting scenic beauty far behind.

The ever green lushful steeped mountains
The cool sequestered saucer dales
The tall sky kissing deodar trees
And the pregnant apple orchards
Enrich the silent slopes of several peaks.

The splendid huts beneath the vales
The gentle roaring ridges and rills
Strutting from the pinnacle of the hills
Amidst the chirping birds and bards
Disappear in the glen of Shivalik.

What a kind creation they are!
The fortune perceiving golden orioles
Singing virtuous valentines vociferously
In the chunky and chubby chasms
Give a clarion call to all seasons of annum.
 
What a pleasant breeze it is!
The blue throated dancing peacocks
Shedding holy drops to promote progeny
In the calm upland meadows
Screech the alarm of a New Era in Shivalik.

X. A Worst Mystified Confusion

How dare my lord diffuses dignity
Over swelling a lava from Demetrius
Dwelling in the landless house
And you rest in the heartless mutiny.

O thou cruelest unkind confusion
Overwhelmingly winds the worries
Unknowingly multiplying the miseries
It brings annihilation and destruction.

Thou dusty darling of diversion
Demarcating the millions of mistakes
Manifesting madness and distastes
It marginalizes the semantics of conversation.

The black night on new moon day
Hugs her in the enigmatic eclipse
Kissing the skeleton of enliven corpse
It narrows the notions and emotions of May.

The furious flames of flickering spark
Spuriously extinguishes the heart of Métis
Resounding the hatredness of brutes
It buries the benevolent souls in the dark.

What a deadly devil of Brahma’s creation?
Thou stop the music of hundred hearts
And the lyric of million minds in the carts
Thou art baptized a worst mystified confusion.


XI. MY MOTHER   
To Krishnaji Sobti

Know the fine arts of a loving woman
Remembering the tides and ebbs of love
In the sacred heart of intellectual dove
Sweet soul exuberantly exhibits the man.
Happily she searches for sober sanctity
Neatness is the nectar in the creative toil
Awakening the seeds from the womb of soil
‘Jindaginama’ and ‘Mitro Marjani’ in serenity.

Idolatress of Ardhanarishwar through out life
Such belief is truth that writing the bisexual
Onto the journey of the creation is reciprocal
Benign Shimlean love lurks lusciously in stripe.
Thy message in ‘Ye Ladaki’ is the future vision
I adore my mother with a profuse provision.

XII. MOTHER’S BLESSINGS

An innocent mother sitting on the threshold
Carrying her new born babe in arms cleans corns
And her cheeks are blushed with the jovial smiles
As if her hands move in the corns from stones hold
Her attention budges on swinging the babe in the cradle
Her thoughts are twigged in the rivulets’ babble.

When the babe cries, she feeds him happily
Pouring her holy compassion and affection
And sings a lullaby to make him sleep blissfully
Yet he breaks the silence like a flashening fusion
Of a long lasting love of mother’s melody
Rejoice his touch on her chin with the passion.

What a lushful meadows of snow and mists!
Glorifies the gorgeous beauty of a forlorn fields
Beholds her breath for her nestling’s feasts
On her bosom like a sun rise ever yields
The kaleidoscopic shades of rainbow writs
Moisten her cheeks with kisses the boy glides.

Oh! What loveliness rests in his blue eyes?
Bewitches the beauties of the bestowed bards
Culminating the manners of bygone century’s spies
With her ram’s laughing face and cub’s chords
She blesses her boy to mould his personalities
In the syntactic and semantic cosmos of lords.

XIII. MISS UNDER STOOD

She sharply shrieked me first day
For she never ever know
I know the langue of her land
The fragrant ochre of her valley
The kiss of silver misty clouds
And the lips of vast mountain ranges.

She sat beside me the other day
Presuming ‘I am a savage simpleton
Immoral rouge and inferior clad’
Murmured ‘you’re from southward
You kidnap and sue me mercilessly
Like my Sita’s snow white soul into the pieces.

She stood before me the last day
Saying, ‘Sorry, I Miss Under Stood You’
Resounded, ‘you know my tongue better than me
To taste the delicious cuisines in saucer dales
Badinaged, ‘You are the Lord of my Love’
 When will you bring a palanquin to me?


XIV. To Mon Ami

Darling! My heart felt numbness
Under your soul's kinetic dumbness
Ruminating our personae’s in the eyes
And flirting thy babe-cut hairy guys
Distorting the colourless bon rainbow
Nourish thy notions in honey dew


Distracting dazzling darkness of hue
I drink my dish with my belle beaux
Bon jour, mon ami, comment vous allez-vous?
And a badinage,' Je suis contente' beaucoup
Belle! Your monomania is fabulous

Understanding is simply scrupulous

Gorgeously thou art deck’d and dress'd
Among supersonic sounds press'd
Vowels amidst the strings of lyre
Accessing melodies of consonantal spire.
Nestle our nestling with nectar in the nest
I croon the lullby with all the calm rest


v     To Mon Ami – To My Beloved
v     Belle – beautiful girl
v     Beaux – lovely and beautiful
v     Bon Jour – Good Day
v     Comment vous allez vous? - How are you?
v     Je suis contente’ – I am fine (happy).
v     Beaucoup – very much


XV. Je Jure De T’aime
I overheard! he is from South India
His beauty’s in deep skin yet I love him
What a cool and kind hearted man he is!
Hearing the babble sounds I flabbergasted
And bereft the dire desire in dismay
I locked the doors of my whims and fancies
As if Adam rejected the fruit of knowledge
I discharged Drona’s resentment of Ekalavya.

An echo reflected! He is a Dravidian
His colour is of my Krishna, so I love him
What a chivalrous and courteous man he is!
Befallen accents draw my attention to the bevy
My restless heart’s blessed with bliss
I sprang like a hot water springs of Manali
To browse her in the shimdames.com
She dazzled in the cosmic costumes of Kulu.

She murmured! He is a Canerese
His community is of mine, so I love him
What a gentle and genius man he is.
My morphemes failed to praise my damsel.
Her looks were the incarnation of Radha
She leaned on my shoulder like Leda on Zeus
I happily hugged and hanged on her rosy lips
She heartily recited the phonemes, “Je Jure de T’aime”.

v     Je Jure De T’aime - I Promise I Love You
v     Shimdames.Com- Imaginary syntax for Shimlean girls
v     Adam – first man Created by God on the earth – Bible
v     Drona and Ekalavya – charcters from the great Indian epic ‘Mahabharat’
v     Zeus and Leda – God of Sun and His Beloved

XVI. A SOPHISTICATED LADY

Men may make mysteries
Women will wind histories.

I was surprised and bewitched by the dame
The beauty is muzzled on the dark clouds
Her skirt is flopping in the chill breeze
The ring dazzles on her parrot nose
The necklace glitters on her bountiful chest
The needle flirts on her nasty nipples
The plait pats her profuse fannies
Did He create her in the rustic anvil?

Men may make mysteries
Women will wind histories.

I was astonished to see the bucksome belle
The charm is chiseled in the chat room
Her fingers give the feather touch to keys
To chat with the clad lad across the land
Her memory travels faster than my feet
Her ideas parachute fairer than my motions
Her tongue twists swifter than my sword
Did she know that He made her?

Men may make mysteries
Women will wind histories.

Her thoughts are just scrupulous
She searches for superfluous sweetness
In the world of annihilation and chaos
She adopts artificial malevolent manners
And she sucked me to rear lovely lads
And lost herself in the labyrinth
Searching her pride in the ocean of sadness
Did He understand her malign mood?

Men may make mysteries
Women will wind histories.

My skin has no sin and heart never hurt
My brain has no drain and soul never suffer
‘He is more sinned against sinning’
She’s boiled her virtues and burnt nobilities
She’s buried her husband along with loyalties
She’s bagged debaucheries as the royalties
He’s fool! She’s marred him for riches
Did He smell that she will sew him?

Men may make mysteries
Women will wind histories.

The poor fool drank her dewy charm
He plucked the rosy lips and cheeks
He adored her libel love with affection
He wasted all moments in her intoxication
And preached philosophy on the stage
He worshipped her spiteful soul
In the guise of a sophisticated lady
Did she forget that she will join Him?

Men may make mysteries
Women will wind histories.
XVII. A BENIGN BASTION  

A benign boy crooned ‘I’m harbinger from UK
He cherished the bygone memoirs all alone
In the solitary state amidst the cool valley
Like a torrential ridges from the lofty hills
His sobriety shines like twinkling stars
His memory is the gift of Almighty’s love.

This Globe is his lovely village
And the dream is to serve all with love
He grazed the cattle in the meadows
And bathed the buffaloes in the ponds
He whipped the oxen to plough the land
And he harvested the heavenly pleasures.

The stars wink in his shirt and pant
And climbed the foothills on barefoot
Uncaring cobras with baccy on legs
Wading through ankle deep wet land
To share the sweet milk puddings
Like hailstones from the dark clouds’ nipple.

He built the granny’s home with passion
The granny’s grand daughter derailed in fashion
Pursuing him, ‘I’m an Angel of love sent by Venus
To marry this affectionate Adonais in ecstasy’
The sun was setting on grandma’s house
He treaded the pathway like a laser mouse. 

His golden fields flourished in green pastures
Nourishing his noble thoughts in Nature
Like the songs of lyrebird amidst the bards
The hue of flowers floated in the full throat
Like a cuckoo in the crow’s nestling boat
He made the home the heaven on earth with mirth.

He’s blessed steadfast boy with values
And preserves the posterity of mankind
Like a quiet quetzals in the host of lilies
The sable singer strings his sweet songs
Pouring out the benevolence and compassion
He glorifies the cosmos being a benign bastion.  

 XVIII. SIGN ON SNOW


The trees dressed in the snow robs
Like nuns towards the holy churches
Singing and swinging in the birches
Dwell in ecstasy among the shrubs.
The lazy sun shows not his face
Always disappears beyond misty clouds
Mutes his tongue and deaf ear shrouds
The shyness and mercy of strong base.

Ten thousand moon in crystal snow
Glitter like the gems and diamonds
Shut the eyelashes and stop the sounds
Rewind the marvelous memory to know.
Nature! Thou hast a hallowed form
Heaven! Thy stars sign on snow to reform.

XIX. ADIEU MOTHER SHIMLA


How shall I bid you adieu
The folk songs in thy lyre
The valentines on the tall spire
Mesmerise men on the meadows.

Your glory is Nature’s holy gift
The voices reminiscence the lark
The melodies flow in stream stark
The wild flowers bloom in the rift.

Your genius grasps tranquil art
The darkness diminishes like snow
The wick of love languishes to glow
The picaresque feelings fill the heart.

Your wisdom warms tender mind
The delicate sentiments bloom in hue
The dexterous thoughts crop up the sue
In the seclusion the souls are blind.

I fly away with heavy wings
And never think I come again
Adieu Mother Shimla! Virtues regain
Full throated I repeat as the bird sings.

XX. MOTHERLAND

One day the mother moves out
With barefooted carrying the pitcher
On her trunk to bring the water
From the pond in the high gamut.

She puts her step on the snake
Believes that is an old broken rope
It revolves her thigh without hope
She throws down the pitcher in rake.

The snake slowly slides down
Stands in awe stares at her thigh
Fear mounts she sobs in the sigh
She shrieks at the broken clay’s mourn.

Stranded still she thinks for the second
Remembers the babe in the cradle
Homeward runs cursing an old riddle
Keeps the pot boiling for a week end.

Walks she briskly along untrodden path
Unaware of the sharp stones and thorns
Leaps in the dark among the barns
The babe’s cry reminds love’s shower bath.
Bleed her legs in the torrential rain
The pond of blood seems like a lake
She knows not for the God’s sake
Her body and mind crunch in pain.

Many wounded marks on her body
Unfold the stories of pristine culture
Superior sons amass the treasure like vulture
Elder children on the streets lug on anybody.

Realises her children fight on the sight
Devour into religion, race, caste and class
 By the fortune of the God’s third eye glass
The proverb proclaims the might’s right.

Sing no more the earth’s empathy
She gets angry in drenching quakes
Volcanoes, tempests, and floods across lakes
Forbids the fortunes and sinks in sympathy.
Blesses her forgotten children with mercy
Though rich or rogue and high or hollow
Like lofty amity embrace golden life’s rainbow
Weeds out hostility and feeds with courtesy.

XXI. WORSHIP
Pray God place me in thy land
I am tired and desire to retire
My memory opens the repertoire
With you on the sea shore sand.

Take me with you on the mountain peaks
Release me from the repulsive deeds
I am repined to repress the weeds
It spoils my crops within few weeks.

I sit under an umbrella of leaves
Sing your glory and holy creations
In mellifluous voice reverberates notions
It notches the nobility through sieves.

Teach me to chant psalms of brooks
I meditate on the bank of the streams
Repeating thy name in my sweet dreams
Adore thy miracles in my mind's nooks.

Bless me with the true love and amity
As peacock showers life's rain to peahen
To transform the world into the heaven
Worship thy holy soul with great chastity.


XXII. THE DAWN

The dawn draws the curtain of night
The scream of peacocks alarms me
The cock’s clarion clucks the distant sea
The dew drenches deodar at twilight. 

Dip in chilly water for divine duty
Seek lingam on the snowy mountain
Its presence purifies mind to retain
Mystic visions in the rustic beauty.

It’s sentimental reunion with Him
I chant in unison counting holy beads
Engraft dear communion with his deeds
My cheery soul resonates the sacred hymn.

My senses enrapture the eternal ecstasy
Enrich the mind with enlightened wisdom
Illume the heart in the meditative hum
I rise with the sun for today’s mercy.

XXIII. MY HOME


The mountain peak is my home
The gorgeous springs are my books
I read between lines in the brooks
Chant ‘mo haman O ShivihS O namah Om.

My home is not built with the bricks
No extraordinary man dares to live
Where miraculous thoughts conceive
The conscience of union with God’s tricks.

There is no verbal war in my home
Nobody engulfs in the cold war
Who can fight in the third World War?
No corpses slump to bury in the tomb.

It’s mysterious yet the naked truth
No one vestige to discern the face
The pine trees plunk in sky to embrace
The surprise slings in the snowy mirth.

It’s an eternal and the perpetual gay
To rest on the white sheet of snow
And delve deep into trance to know
My home is built with the soul’s joy.

My soul leaps up the hot water springs
Elevates efflorescence in the saucer dales
Rejuvenates resonance of the nightingales
Meet Shiva in the mountains crimson rings.

  
XXIV. HIS GRACE

My years on this earth are transient
God has sanctioned four century in krit
Three century in tret and two century in drit
Zero to hundred year in age kal the present.

When I went to a village school to learn
Vedas, Brahma Sutras, Puranas, Gita and Epics
The golden Indology and history in its relics
Devised my visions in their shapes in fern.

 In my youth I am delighted to sing
The gifts of Nature and holy passion
The day and night are in suppression
Lord! Thou showereth consecrated spring.

The world may cease to breathe
When the fountain of His Grace vanish
Every hope of life at a snail's pace banish
The lifeless bodies lurk in the breeze.

The soul is an eternal element
Within everyman to make him Man
The divine spirit protects the clan
Sanctions bond of love in firmament.


Krit – Kritayuga
Tret - Tretayuga
Drit – Dwaparayuga
Kal – Kaliyuga

XXV. AN IMMORTAL FRIEND

Blessed am I in the land of holiness
And perceived the perfection of talent
In the debate of truth and peaceful patient
The nomenclature of objects is in lightness.

The cloud conceives an embryo of flashes
In the realm beyond the black darkness
Across the snow hill strikes the brightness
In the paramount I resuscitate senses,

Thy manifestations fold the Infinite
Streak of lightening in the deep forest
Nourish the wisdom of soul to crest
Cover the veil of snow over the finite.

Oh Sun! Undress the veil with light
The precision of beauty melts into water
Flows beneath the snow the ideas scatter
The nakedness manifolds the self in the sight.

I travel with my true self at thy end
My gentleness mingles in thy mind
The breath with breeze in the bind
My soul meets thee as an immortal friend.

XXVI. THE NATURAL BEAUTY


Why do trouble my peaceful mind?
How oft do you disturb my happy heart?
Where do come from in the fine art?
Thou art unseen power in form and kind.

In this age the war among mighty nations
Drift the debris of historical monuments
Cease the breath of millions in moments
Dost thou work with master’s notions?

You wander unseen everywhere
With your spell bound enthusiasm
And knit the plots of love in deism
In the age after age live nowhere.

Thou art unknown spirit spring my soul
Like winter’s wind creeps flower to bower
Like moon beams touch summer’s shower
Reap the harvest of my autumnal role.

 Thou pourest the profound music of the heart
 Like humming bees on the wild roses
Like rainbow across the valley of mosses
Portray the natural beauty in the golden art.

XXVII. THE DREAM OF RUTH

She stands on the threshold of her youth
Like an unknown reed in the serene lake
Amidst the pink lotuses untouched by snake
The gleeful bosom beguiles the lustrous Ruth.

Her dreams enchant the elegant days
Like full brim of vase in her rustic praise
The curious apparitions swivel the craze
Her dimple cheeks blush in new morn rays.

Life’s passions enthrall the golden luck
Like the noble nectar in the marigold
Awaits fly beyond sky to gratify in cold
Accept life’s pleasures after the wedlock.

Her real state is the desolate desert
Like a vacant vessel of brown clay
She dwells in eternal splendor of bay
And desire to have a dream resort.

 The sun never rise in her blissful prison
The honey dew dissolves into the haze
Her hopes resolve the winning maze
Like a silkworm out of cocoon in her region.  

XXVIII. AN IDEAL FAITH
My memory drags the roots of past
That soaks thoughts to the present
Compels the future culture’s crescent
The native customs are crushed and lost.

The festive costumes cling to nativity
In the baptism and the marriage mood
The basmati rice brings carnival food
The heretic hazards hinge the hostility.

The harvest ballads bring the sublimity
While cutting and binding the grain
And carrying it uphill with great strain
The love’s labour’s lost in the gravity.

The ritualistic relief rings in the reality
The girls love the father’s wonderful home
The fear of in-laws builds the new dome
An ideal faith merges into real spirituality.

XXIX. THE STABILITY

This world is full of joy and sorrow
The birds from continent twitter melody
Harp the harmony in the homely rhapsody
Like a snake in the rabbit’s burrow.

This forest is full of humour and satire
The branches of the trees trespass the amity
Like the wild beasts bestow the affinity
The modern man conceals umbrage in attire.

This earth is full of pathos and benignity
Like the whispering of the wild flowers
Like the mysteries of the mountain’s bowers
The hearts hold the sacred sovereignty.

The heaven is full of love and chastity
The godly creation of man on the earth
The common goal and harmonious birth
Honestly moulds the life’s lasting stability.

XXX. RETURN HOME

I desire to go back to my lovely village
The rain drizzles on the sugarcane farms
The peacocks drip peahens to many forms
Like a charming damsel in the carriage.

The legs move deep in the brown sand
And builds the nests for the sparrows
On the banks of the brooks in sorrows
Things fall down and nothing is in hand.

Full many orchids spread the fragrance
And open the lips of dumb hearts
Full many a bosom blooms the fine arts
And neglect its pride in hamlet’s ignorance.

Nine paths lead to my humble village
The six from east and three from west
The east and the west at their best
Meet in my land surmised by the mirage.

I return home after my retirement
And sleep in the deepest silence
The rustics sing glory in the cadence
The grass grows on grave in merriment.

XXXI. THE BEAUTY’S TRUTH

Am I a brother of the poet John Keats?
The lichens grow on my rocky hill
The yellow vale vanished in the rill
The grazing herd the lost lamb bleats.

This spring the clouds veil of sky
Sprinkle not showers the earth groans
The sun scorches the moon moans
The cattle held their heads high.

The scars of wounds on the neck
Sprout the joys in the waves of leaves
The flowers fade the plants grieves
The men bow their head down in speck.

I regain life from the unseen death
The cradle of ocean in ebbs and flows
The holy rivers meet the sea grows
The beauty’s truth takes the breath.
XXXII. YOUR SIGNATURE

O my serene sky and shining stars!
Will you teach me the art of living?
And how to greet all in the morning
I have been moved out of the wars.

O my sky!  You are my form
I am you and you are really I 
You’ve been above me all the day
And accept my gratitude in reform.

O my stars!  Realize my hopes
You are around and within me
Escape from prison with master key
Liberate me I rest in mountain slopes.

O my God! Show my milky way
My life an enchanted glory isn’t in vain
Bless me with thy strengths to regain
Put me your signature I thrill to pray.
XXXIII. THE PEACE DIES

I know not the mystery of Universe
The things hold the power of gravitation
The objects fall down for its attraction
The subjects formed they converse.

The knowledge enlightens walls built
Across the love’s long sad satiety
The boundaries arise and divide disparity
The values wobble and lost in quilt.

The humane religion rings in happiness
The interpretation fails the hatred exist
The priest and sage swindle to suggest
Fanatic fouls make the life meaningless.

The ignorance’s bliss thinks not future
The present’s spent the heart’s bent
The moment’s meant the past’s lent
The sorrow’s sucked in the joy’s nature.

The peace dies and the war cries
The wolves wrestle the time’s waste
The bio-weapons sweep the man’s haste
The annihilation ends in the foggy skies.

XXXIV. THE PLIGHT OF MOON

My memory soars and ideas realise
The new moon night cursed with dark
The ray of light enkindle bright bark
The night sleeps in shadow’s promise.

The creators craft in holy intuition
The full moon night blessed with light
The dark clouds close the good sight
The night ends in the modest meditation.

The God’s googley bolds the umpire
The veil of cloud hides the talent
The wisdom laughs at the voice of gallant
The genius glows and set the empire.

The unknown power presses the duty
The awareness eludes the knowledge lost
The darkness howls the moon’s tossed
Like a half bread in the sky with its beauty.

 XXXV. THE AGIRY

Shall I call thee my sweet heart?
Your constant creations cull the cosmos
Things revisited in vale at your loss
Enclaved spires on the mountains mark.

Your showers of love unites the nations
Like the pole star that guides the masons
Erect the foundations of ethics amidst the baboons
Love nothing but love forms the patience.

Your gift of liberty frees the norms
Like a lion out of cage outbursts in rage
Kills the page and prays the sage
Liberty only liberty loosened in the storms.

The blessings of life bestows the glory
Like a silence in a vale sequestered womb
Efface the whirlwinds and disappear in tomb
Life nothing but life liberates in the agiry.

    XXXVI. THE MESSAGE

The bird sings and the rain brings
The message of spring of the New Year
The prayer’s done my chants in the ear
Opens the gates of heart the music rings.

My lips flutter the pride of your presence
The tongue tells thy glories in manifold
The nose smells the eyes help the brotherhood
The skin feels the warmth and lovely essence.

The words wedged the ideas in dilemma
The confusion confounds in the mind
Things differ from all and change the kind
The truth is buried in the natural Alma.

The stars alter the planets move
The hell and heaven to bring the calm
The flood furrows the water’s harm
The sailors gaze pole star to throw this message.

 XXXVII. MY COMPASSION

My love freezes in the hailstone
That falls in spring melts in dew
And hangs on grass survive on few
Fills life joy and relegate the backbone

My affection breathes in the breeze
That blows eastward rustling the leaves
And kisses the bees down drip the beehives
The jackfruit jerks the crickets swallow cheese.

My amity arrests the flooring snow
That rests upon boughs to sing sod
And arises mercy in the waves of God
Sallies happiness in the shades of shadow.

My compassion culminates in thy nature
That blooms in womb sleeps in tomb
And sucks honey like a bleating lamb
Mould the mirth in the shadow of culture.

XXVIII. THE SCANDAL

On the top of the scandal spreads the sandal
The earth holds the fragrance’s gravity
The woodpecker winks at carpenter’s pity
Curzon’s daughter dines in Chail Palace bridal.

The life’s flowing water of mountain’s springs
And a dream ever floating in the air
That’s restless like a tempest’s nightmare
The cold heart’s commune the church bell rings.

The couple clips on the wings of dove
And pee through window at bell flowers
The mist covers and the sadness hovers
The fear flushes and mounts the love.

The new-born babe sucks the airy nipple
And chuckles the days dreams of the bay
He looks grave on the chariot of gay
And dozes like a rain in sunshine’s triple.

The lion roars and the tigers sleep
In the mango groves and apple orchards
The dog barks in the heaven’s backyards
The God blesses them as Him they keep.

XXXIX. CAREFREE

She sets me free as she’s carefree
In the dark night without a word
Impresses her breast churns the curd
Drinks hemlock and forgets the pedigree.

She vanishes from my sight in the mob
And dwells in ivory tower that’s calm
Her flames of fortune are not in the palm
Her nature conceals the tales in sob.

She floats on water like a paper boat
And sinks into the river of rears and dears  
She swivels in the whirlpool of tears and fears
She drowns and deserts the white man in coat.

I think not she comes again home
She lost herself like a burning cigarette
She omits in the sink conspires in the kitchenette
She knits the untruth and sleeps in her dome. 

XL. HER FEMINISM


You make an earth the bed of roses
Preach feminism in the bronze casket
For the past flying high in the rocket
Nothing is beautiful in the rotten mosses.

Your touch shocks my numb nerves
Engineer my emotions and trigger feeling
That taste tests thoughts of unrevealing
Her theory twigs from centre to marginal curve.

Your contribution to nation’s love great
Nullify thy husband and kids in false pride
Show the sanguine sweetness in Hyde
Transcreate anything out of nothing in grate.

You murmur loudly the desire of an hour
That you have every right to carry ten men
Befool the Indian culture like silly women
Bury the norms and nourish the pretty lure.

Your love’s languor lurks in the lust
The wilderness of thy heart’s lush green
Commits the castes and creeds to wean
The short sanctity and long breeze lust.

You are shameful crib in heart’s realm
The shades of sublime sacrileges in soul
Strange is thy presence and remember goal
Your vibrant figure is the spring’s helm.

XLI. WE DEPARTED

When we departed she wept lonely
Hiding her face in beautiful tresses
Tears the rolling stars on her cheek stresses
The moon moaned and planets plumed palely

 I opened my briefcase in Shivalik train
And stunned to see the golden frame
She has quietly put to raise the flames
Of her love’s gifts ‘the children’ her gain

I unfolded the luggage at Kalka station
And surprised to see the woolen jacket
That she bought for me at Mall market
And placed it beneath the pride of her nation

She is my lovely charming elder sister
Puts up in Solan the snowy Shimlian soul
Lulls her kids and nourishes her hubby’s call
Pours her amity on UK brother like a mother

XLII. THE DALLIANCE

The damsel dazzles in the dark night
Standing on the brim of the Tattapani Lake
Encompassing the two full moon breasts’ shake
Amidst them the hidden mirthful heart at sight

Thy tender heart’s my dwelling palace
Under the shade of exuberant apple breasts
I sing valentines gathering ripened walnuts
Lowering my eyes on thy light feet lace

Meadow the bed under the soft soul
Slender the waist to twist and hold tight
Mellow is thy aromatic Queen of night
I spin around thy blossoming bower bowel

The night’s lap thou art roll on my chest
Your eyes declare Aurora dispels darkness away
Cupid’s arrow calmly culminates until Zeus first ray
Peeps through the window panes with potent zest

The cool fragrance alters the aura of silhouette
Thy nocturnal kisses diminish the malignant fear 
The firm breasts freeze the bountiful body dear
The dalliance dissolves in dazzling heaven’s crest.   

XLIII. THE BROKEN VASE

The pieces of the broken vase scatter
On the marble floor glimmering hue
Harvests their hearts in magnificent rue
Discords the honesty and minces the matter.

The satchel, tiffin box and the water bottle
The woolen shacks and the black shoes
The belts and the bows indicate the foes
Their destination dwindles like a shuttle.

Many carved pictures with the needle
Speak not the past and think not today
The companions depart in their heyday
They unite not and no mind to meddle.

The hand that made thee waves in air
With heavy heart that stands on the edge 
The pearls and jewels jerk without knowledge
The pieces fit not to fix and make not fair. 

XLIV. MY DEAR LORD

Where is the palanquin my dear lord?
My soul stays not in maternal vale
The nuances enthrall thee in the dale
Like dumb songs on the lips of the bard

Thy presence pure thoughts crystal clear
Thy stature bestows the sacred ideals
The sinews strong and mind of pearls
I make thee necklace with sweet dewy tears.

Thy hugging arms around my neck
Like a jasmine garland spreading fragrance
Touches my bower in the benevolence
And muzzles thy amity in the deck

Thy memory moves faster than arrow
Pricks my heart and again builds the nest
The birds chirp for reunion at their rest
Flocculate the love and preserve in burrow.

Come my dear tonight and carry me home
The planets flicker and the stars shine
The flowers bloom and the bees dine
I am nectar in thy soul’s roaming dome.

XLV. THE BARREN LIFE

The bare tree amidst the green meadow
Stands like the skeleton of the pristine culture
All the year dry and dead forgetting the future
No birds fly nearer and wink at its shadow.

She had countless leaves light and dark green
And bloomed like innumerable scented flowers
Zephyr sent the rain to sprinkle merciful showers
Thousands of fruits were hung on thy shrine.

The river of love dies and fries golden fish
In the scorching sun and the melting snow
The bustling Deodar branches break to know
This life ago she remains a delicious dish.

The seldom forgotten wreaths and lovely fruits
Awake my intuitive emotions and listen to my lips
The melodious rhythms escalate and the song sips
The acid rain drops not and rest in earths’ crust.

XLVI. THE HIGH PRIEST

The brutes bark with megalomaniac pride
Constituting the ritual laws to worship the idols
Misunderstanding the culture of indigenous ideals
The priests’ brute nature impinges the innocent bride.

Thou art Fools! Break the bondage of sacred couples
Make the children orphans and the wives the widows
Prior to suing the widowers and mar the many ewes
Thou art hooligans honoured with the cakes of maples.

O You thugs always issue issueless statement
That’s reliable libel like sly sundry stalemates
Realize the bond of blood like thirsty diplomats
You’re respected with odium in the firmament.

Thy hefty statures with shaven or long beards
Counting the beads and chanting the psalms
Conspire the labyrinth and sacrilege the charms
Thou art felicitated banally with hymns of bards.

O You high priests pretend like sanguine saints
Bless the issueless with thy fetid and foul sperms
Graft an impugn celibacy to create the wry worms
Thou art loathsome prayed by the gigantic giants.

Your hymns are libels that God only knows
Stabbing is thy religion and cheating thy norms
Enforce malicious deeds in uncountable forms
You are decimated and buried in the wild eyes.

XLVII. THE FALSE BLAME 

My father in law declared me guilty
He condemned and forever prevented me
From entering the nuptial davenport glee
And thought his daughter’s right is witty.

I stand in Scandal Point gazing at chamber
Grudgingly waiting for the forbidden dame
Her languor lurks in her snowy facial shame  
Mounting in full of frailty and vanity in slumber.

My pure looks contaminate her benign chaste
With serene feelings betray her swindling love
Her repentance rumples the confession like a dove
At the peak of penury squandering youth in haste.

The hunger of my soul searches me inside
Counting each night a day and a day the year
He pondered me lonely loitering for the leer
My death’s zilch and none of his orders abide.

I opt to obtain her sacred soul of English blood
She knelt before me and I eloped her innocence  
He oft opened his eyes from the guilty conscience
Forgive us for your false blame drenched into flood.

XLVIII. THE MENACE

The eternal peace is the mother of temporal war
When the hatredness hums, the pious pity dies
The castes culminate and the boisterous broil fries
The gender classes connive the communal disaster

The petty politics is the last game of scoundrels
The true values astray and the firm principles vanish
They indulge in the game of dice for damsels to banish
The virtuous lords and statesmen to preserve mongrels.

The saffron clad priests misinterpret the scriptures
They sow the seeds of fraud, lust and corruption
The temple, church and mosque crumble in donation
Towers, spires and minars numb in debris sepulchre.

The religious war is the sinister of spatial peace
The caste based religion without passion is opium
The tongue of secularism intoxicates all in podium
Extinguish gentility and nourish muse of the menace.
    
XLIX. THE PARENTAL HOME

My father’s house is calm and quiet
The husband’s abode hurts my mind
The fear mounts in in-law’s moral bind
My mother’s home is filled with quetzals duet.

I sing and soar now and then soar and sing
Like a lark on the mound of mountains peak
Amidst the cinnamon, cedar, sandal and teak
Always kiss the snow – white clouds’ silver ring.

My father’s fields are filled with crops greenery
The yellow perfume flowers and spicy plants shy
In their maturity of love’s harvest’s done and cry
The cuckoo in Love dales full springs of scenery.   

I cheer sans fear like a lightening glow worm
They are my tiny torches in the dark night
Show me the paths of glory to silent sight
March towards my parental home full of charm.

Now the living home is desolate and barren
Yet it is splendid to spend days with family
Where the love sprites in many souls firmly
Mould the heavenly home singing like a wren.

My soul swells out dew drops on chubby cheeks
As I leave all of them behind in apple orchard
Brimmed with memoirs passing thro’ churchyard    
To my New Paradise on the ecstatic mountain peaks. 

L. THE WORTHY WIFE

Thou art away from home tonight
The sky shrieks and the earth grumble
The sun scorches and the river bubbles
Thy shadow haunts at my fearful sight

Thou art my wife like a sharp knife
To cut the pumpkin and the cucumber
Grinding the chutney of night’s slumber
Thy sharp saw edges sacrileges the life.

I reset the long voyages of truthful life
Ever and again I have my compromises
I need thy support to keep up promises
The reciprocal love makes thee worthy wife.

The parental home is a transient palace
The new birds enter hegemony can not hold
The yellow leaves fall and nix remains old
Thou art solitary lass bestowed on me a chalice.

Lull thy offspring in the cradle of true affection
Reservoir of values and deserve all the amity
The world is thine if you live in ball’s affinity
The heaven is at thy feet in passionate perfection.         

LI. THE DEAR SON

Oh dear son! Thou art very handsome
Thy entry on the earth brought me mirth
The eyes speak the grandeur of thy birth
You are wordless to express thy fearsome.

Your crawling on the mat howls my heart
The babbling morphemes made me mute
Your acts are steady playing on the flute
Thy loving face is tossed moon in sky’s art.

Thy novel baptism blest the global peace rises
Like the hot water springs in the chilly hill
Meandering gorgeous ridges in the forest’s rill
Thy name echoes on the pink petals of primroses.

The mermaids chant the chorus the Gods dance
On the pinnacle of Himalayan mountain ranges
The splendid steps in the groves of oranges
Elevates the caranatic notes in the torrential trance  

Thou art Nature methodized babe God’s holy gift
Thy communion of passion made the mirthful glen
In the crown of my heritage at its meadows’ plain
Thou art benign soul to kiss bountiful girls in lift.

 LII. MY CHARMING BELOVED 
                   
I stand alone in the corridor at the sunset
When sky is painted in the crimson colour
The marvelous portraits for million dollars
Like a hanging mermaids with blushful chest.

My handsome beloved swing on the clouds
Waves his silken turban in the sweetest breeze
That soothes wearisome on the terrestrial crease
I venture to bowl him bold the bouncer moulds.

I sit constantly on the threshold at the misty musk
Wearing lilies in my plait to attract his eyes fair  
Waiting for my jovial darling in the nightmare
Like the maneuvering pictures at the West in dusk.   

I lie succulently on the bed in my ivory tower
And peep though window his muscular body
With innumerable fantasies say ‘I’m his Lady’
His sober touch blooms my petals of May flower.

Sweet are the superb showers of stolen kisses
Like Gulmohar parrot buds on the bare branches    
Each bud has the winged horses the game marches
Like the galloping gentry across the good fences.
He sleeps still on my lap in the moonlight
I crook to rumple his hair and beard on cheek
With my pliant palms to keep him lasting meek 
His thrill throngs like a glimmering gusto of lit.

He’s my dark lover I am his brawny skylark 
I sing madrigals resting his head on my thighs
I gently doze on his face with the happy sighs
My dire desires dissolve like an ice on the bark.

The new morn sun awakens me in the bed
I am alone all alone in the pink night attire
Is it a waking vision or love’s sad satire?
I’m a mad maiden of my charming beloved.


LIII. THE HEAVENLY STAR

Pity thou art poster thy holy religion
Amidst the dark clouds across the Ridge
Down the valley the milkmaids pledge
Mellifluous lyrics of thy heart sans malign.

Aurora! Thou disappear in the morn mist
Venus waits alone on the mountain peaks
Arising from dew Apollo longs for weeks
Touch of mother Ge alters Daphne’s gist

I pray Zeus to bring you the chariot of bards
Daringly passes the ferry beyond seven seas
Gentle apparition shines Sovran capitals please
Amity drizzles on the rye grass grooms the Lords.

Valiant rays sneak through the pines at Oakland
Among the tallest deodar zephyr blows cold
Nature under sky the heavenly star glistens bold
In the Paradise of love lurks Almighty’s glee on the island.

LIV. NO MY LORD

No my Lord! It is a numbness to believe
In thy holy kingdom when few men live
Vanquishing the true values in pole vault
Extinguishing the traditional moral molt
Dashing my kids that dunces docile dally
In your sweet home with acanthus and molly
Tarnishing the real reliance in the cold hearth
Agonies arising out of wrath prove to the earth.

God gently forgive them! Bless me with power
And I always offer Thee the fresh water lily
Vanishing the cunning race of the lustful silly
And now I pray Thee to keep pure in my bower.
No my Lord! I should regain strength to live
In Thy holy paradise when good men leave.

LV. DEAR DAME.
Distance I maintained my dear dame
Unknowingly you are barred from fame
Reluctantly thy heart is subdued fate
Affinity awakes in the womb of horrid hate
Diamonds you rejected my beaux bell
Upholding thy serene sweetness of sorrow
Nourishing holy hollow plants of morrow
Dribbling like babies for bibs in cradle.
Images, shades, shadows hang in clouds
Gigantic portraitures appear and disappear
Ah! Your solemn sanctity seizes smear
Vapours vanish vehemently in plods
Nature nurtures thy visionary beauty
I never forget to poster the great piety.


LVI. THE FEAR OF WAR

The world is at peril my Lord
No hope exists at this hour
The third world war's valour
Vexed us in the crux of bard.

Pentagon perished in
Washington
New York
's nude narrates the fear
In the hearts of patriots and dear
Lovers are fled away from
New York town.

The shadow of the war sacrileges souls
The fear haunts the innocent hearts
The helpless cry is heard in the marts
The tyranny of war has set no goals.

The war between Bin Laden and Bush
Will be a melting pot on the hearth
Burning Kuran and boiling Bible's broth
Extinguishing smoke of fundamental crush.

My Lord When will be a war of peace on earth?
I wait at thy gate for thy Second Coming!
The world stands on her toe for New Morning
I have no fear of war, the eternal war of mirth!

LVII. PATRIOTISM

Sweet are the golden days
In the magnitude of rhythm
Dancing to the tunes of anthem
Dedicating to the nation's praise.
Amity allows us to sing folklore
Punctuality protects pristine culture
Promising patriotism in our nature
Again disposing Diaspora of Mangalore.

Joys are seldom blessed in life
Agony is always followed with pain
Know thyself to harvest and gain
Blessings of almighty to subdue strife.
Affection arrests all souls in the hall
Love lingers lusciously in the ball.


LVIII. TO PRESERVE POSTERITY
They came and awakened me
When I was in profound sleep
Heard the chattering
Mould the manners
Scolded the sparrow
To crush tomorrow.

I slowly stretched my legs
When the bed bugs were in peace
Preached the charity
Cursed the purity
Seduced the chastity
To subdue today.

My maid brought me bed tea.
When I suspected for Thea
Took the hot cup
Looked at the sup
Hooked the pup
To drink yesterday.

I elegantly moved to bath room
When I found the nude in the glass
Shed sanguine shower doom
Trebled telephonic tinkling grass
Sprinkled holy water
To refresh the day.

She lurked lightly into the anti chamber
When she sucked my half bareness
Licked the lovely lips
Kissed the charming cheeks
Swallowed the sacred soul
To sustain everyday.

They hosted a party in the ball
When I had the beaux belle
Dined the delicious dish
Chewed the wondering fish
Digested the juicy tomato
To preserve posterity forever.


                                                                      -   Dr. D. B. Gavani

3 comments:

  1. Excellent poems. Brilliantly crafted imagiantion about Shimla's life. tradition, culture and civilized world with various folk elements of Indian ethos.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hey! These are rudiments of great poetry. Every poem is unique in its bathos extending multiple intelligence of a great poet. I am just impressed and shattered by the vocabulary that you have internalised. Your poems are my lovely dish at night.

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  3. I reremember the lines:

    "I wander when the world is in bed
    I sleep after all the jovial tears shed".

    I think you are a great poet who rejoices the golden mirth in the dearth of sorrow. Finding happiness in suffering is greater than living happily on this earth. Really your quote is too apt : Love is heaven. Be happy and produce great poetry.

    ReplyDelete