She

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21st April, 2002 | 20:20 – 20:35

O thou
heat-begotten, gaseous orb,
shooting rays seems your only job –
thinking you can burn-ish me?
I can shut you up
with but a blink of me.
But I won’t do so –
‘coz then I’d lose her sight –
she, my reason to live.

With hair flowing breezily aloft,
her’s is a voice so silky soft.
She lives her life with a gay abandon –
her skin color? Earthly – sand-one.
Her walk would put a cat to shame,
her love’s the only path to my fame.

~

Ok. so you may find this one a bit cheesy. I found it too – but was written from heart a dirty dozen years ago, and sharing it so!

The Waves Flowed On

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30th March, 2002 | 20:30 – 20:45

Sitting still by the sea-side,
upon a Rock placed atop
a steep-slope,
I saw seven layers
of morning mist.

The mist was
dropping down, Descending
from the far away
Mountain, mingling into
the salty-sea.

The Sun, seeming undecided, –
uncertain –
of His aglowed appearance,
rose slowly
from the hazy horizon.

I looked patiently
at the silent, still-sea –
untormented, a deceptive, destructive force,
unmoving – yet creating waves
in a deep, crying heart.

Something forced me to throw the pebble –
piercing its heart.
The sea replied with a rippling laughter.
Perhaps laughing at me,
perhaps, it was hurt.

The ripples –
laughter loops – or crying circles –
whatever they were – soon faded.
Merged in the silent moment;
replaced by soothing serenity.

The waves flowed on.

~

The Shoe-Slipper Stealer (An Ode To Frost)

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15th March, 2001 | 22:50 – 23:00

Please read Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening before going ahead.

~

Whose shoes these are
I think I know.
His thoughts are in the Temple though –
he won’t see me standing here,
stealing his shoes that newly glow.

The Priest gives the Temple bells a shake
to say that there is no mistake –
“The shoes are yours –
for you to take.”

The shoes are lovely, nice, and cheap.
They are mine, for long to keep –
and miles would go before I steal,
and miles would go before I steal.

~

Relax

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28th May, 2001 | 11:30

Lie down.
Relax.
Let your organs and senses
go limp.
Close your eyes softly.
As softly as possible.
Think of God.
Let a Bright Glow
cover you around
the darkness of your closed eyes
and fill you with a sense of
Tranquility.
Focus, and repeat the word –
Tranquility –
as gently as possible.

Keeping your palms open heavenwards,
take a deep breath.
Let your diaphragm
expand to its fullest.
Feel Oxygen recharging
each part of your body.
Feel it
rising from your toes –
up your knees –
your chest.
Feel it recharge
your Heart –
move down your arms,
elbows, hands, fingers –
and the quick of your nails.
And then, let it retrace the path
and reach your brain,
pacifying it –
comforting it.

Breathe out softly.
Discharge
all your despair,
pain,
hopelessness and helplessness,
all your negativity.
Flush them out of your system.

Thank God.
Relax.
Sleep.

~

The Accepted One

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23rd May, 2001 | 23:25 – 23:31

Thousands of lives gush forth.
A milky ocean –
transmitted from the Producer,
to the Protector, the Nourisher.

But,
only One –
the Lucky (or unlucky?) One
is Accepted
for a Life –
a new World.

The Womb is a dark world,
yet, it’s pleasantly warm –
(and actually much safer).
It’s an enclosed cave
where the Accepted One Grows
tossing, turning, and
kicking for a while
before It sees the Light.

The Light of Life.

~

Mind, The Amazing Labyrinth

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19th March, 2001 | 23:30 – 23:40

I had written this 16 days after I landed at Hyderabad in 2001 to begin my journey as a professional. I was damn lonely – and my stylograph was a major support.

Following was the resultant outpour…

*********************************
Shadow was walking alone in the labyrinth of the new city when Memory called up from behind and asked “Where do you go, friend?”

Shadow smiled and took Memory into a warm embrace – feeling nostalgic. They walked hand-in-hand for quite a distance, remembering all and sundry. It was all fine until Memory took out an album of friends and placed it in Shadows hand.

Shadow became quiet and sad, and freeing his hands from that of Memory’s, ran towards Tears who was standing at a distance with open arms. Shadow was swept away by the storm of grief, and keeping his head on Tears’ chest, drenched him with all that welled up from his eyes.

After his eyes dried up, Shadow thanked Tears and moved on – once again alone.

Suddenly, it was all dark – and Shadow saw Fear and Anxiety moving towards him. He looked to his left, he looked to his right – but then, on second thoughts, decided to give them a good fight.

He drew a Torch, and away fled Fear.
As for Anxiety, it daren’t come near –
for he saw Optimism standing just-right there!

~

I am reblogging this one from my old blog.

I AM…

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19th May, 2001 | 11:50 – 12:10

I am a void.
And a blank void at that.
But,
you still can’t do without me.
I am the hole your finger makes
when it dips in a bowl of water –
and comes out.
I am present one moment –
gone the next.

I am the deepest ocean, the highest peak –
the longest road, the widest sky you seek.

I am the minuscule. I am the giant –
the spoken word, and silence – the triumphant.

I am the fields, and the airy breeze,
I am the food, the heat, and the freeze.

I am the undying Faith, and the little weed –
I am the Open Gate, and the powerful mustard seed.

I am love, I am hate,
I am your actions, I am your fate.

I am your tears, I am your smile,
I am the society – I am the style!

I am your first breath – and your last vision –
I am your first action, and your last decision.

I am the Uncreated Creator.

~

Written after reading, and inspired, by the Bhagwad Gita.

An Ode To Moustaches

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17th February, 2001 | 16:55 – 17:20

an-ode-to-moustache

It was present
when I first ope’d my eyes –
strong, shining –
a symbol spreading strength
in my frail, fair body.

I was bedazzled by it –
like others stupefied –
by the mush, hairy growth
that provided his face
the charismatic magnetism
making all believe
he was in the army. He was a marine.

A lot of effort had been put
into giving them the majestic, flamboyant look.
Liters of oil, kilos of onions,
bottles of shampoo – and most importantly,
many manual hours of labor and skill
to give it the tip-pointed skywards look.

In fact, to him it seemed strong enough
as if some child could
hang by them, enjoying the ecstasy,
delight, and comfort of
a swinging Birch branch.

It’s been twenty-four summers
that I have looked at them,
awed-mesmerized-looking,
observing, and feeling the impact
it has on others.

There’s only one difference
that I notice today –
the color has changed from
shining, lustrous black to silver streaks –
yet commanding its due respect.

~

Written in train between the stations Hazratbal and Bhopal while going to Lucknow, after returning from my first job interview at IMI, Hyderabad.

The Last Sigh

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15th January, 2001 | 9:15 – 9:25

She sighed as he came in –
panting – perspiring –
fumbling.

With wildly pulsating hearts,
they groped, they clutched
at whatever they could;
she was moaning
by the time they were done.

The doors appeared to jerk down –
there was a wild, animalish movement.
A volley of shots – bang! bang!

Both let out a deep sigh of pain,
and looking into each others eyes,
slept.
Forever.

~

The poem, written while travelling in a train from Lucknow to Delhi, tells the story of a man who is trying to run away from goons, reaches home, and with his beloved tries to collect whatever they could so they could take the flight to safety – but is too late.

On The Acceptance Of Nonsense

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10th May, 2000 | 21:30 – 21:45

Nonsense is something that makes us all appear sensible. What will sense mean if there was no nonsense? Like darkness is simply defined as absence of light, maybe.

Nonsense refers to absurd actions, words, or meaningless ideas. And what else is our world than a bundle of meaningless existence of humanity covered in the shroud of senseless turmoil and strife?

A nonsensical person is called a fool, and surely, all of us ‘wise’ people assembled here know themselves to be fools for it’s just the folly of the fools to consider themselves wise. Thus, when we celebrate the All Fools Day, we are actually celebrating the importance of those without whom the wise won’t have any existence. They would be like happiness without misery – neither of which can survive without the other.

Even the wisest of all – Socrates – proclaimed that all that he ever achieved, or learnt, was ‘nothing’. If we are so ready to accept such a senseless life, a life without any meaning, – ‘There is no lack of void’ – as I think Goethe says, we surely must also embrace nonsense.

The problem arises when we take the term for its literal interpretation in its colloquial, common usage – that of a foolish person, act, or saying. Sure, it will be very foolish to tell your fathers profession when someone has asked you your skillset. Sorry, but you are bound to lose that job opportunity for sure.

Nonsense is bad if you try to make a fool of your elders or teachers – but it takes the form of art if being displayed on stage. Kapil Sharma? Anyone can make you cry. But it takes real talent and very hard, honest work to act as a fool in front of all. It is only then, when we behave in a manner we ought not to behave, can we make the audience laugh.

Nonsense, then, is actually the key to laughter in this world full of sobs and wails. We may not like fight sequences, but we surely end up guffawing watching comedians performing histrionics wearing red pants and yellow shirts with purple coats. If there was no need for nonsense, would Govinda have achieved the fame he did? Of course, his comic timing is just a tiny part of his talent.

In summary – if required, and if you can, try to spread laughter at times, sometimes, even at your own cost. Some lazy heart and protruding belly would thank you for providing it the best form of exercise/medicine there is – Laughter.

~

Do check out:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Indian_comedians
http://www.mandatory.com/2013/04/24/the-50-funniest-actors-of-all-time/

I feel embarrassed to be a human today.

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I would like to be called a Pigeon than by the name of any other caste.

For then, whether I enter a Temple, Mosque, Gurudwara, or Church, people would just say – “look at that Pigeon” and not ask if I were a Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Parsi, or any 10000 names that humans have given – not God.

He just made us humans. That we became inhuman is our fault – nobody else’s. So for God’s sake, can’t we simply behave like the way He made us?

Being human is far more difficult than being a human being. Being a Pigeon might be easier.

The Place In Your Heart…

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The second-last inspired-song from 1998. The song is “Neeley-Neeley Ambar Par” from the movie Kalakaar, (1983) again sung by the legendary Kishore Da. I just love the guitar played!

Try to listen to the song (linked), and sing along if you can. 🙂

The-Place-In-Your-Heart

20th May, 1998 | 2:15 AM, modified bits on 2nd January, 2015, 12 PM

guitar

The place in your heart
is forever mine,
together we’ll sha-are,
a love di-vine!

And I’ll love you so,
Our love will grow, o so,
That we’ll grow Together old!

The place in your heart
is forever mine,
together we’ll sha-are,
a love di-vine!

guitar, long

Ho, I love you with my whole heart,
my body, and my soul,
Just need to have you,
and that’s my final goal.

I love you with my whole heart,
my body, and my soul,
Just need to have you,
and that’s my final goal.

To hold you ti-ight,
Love you so ri-ight,
my heart gets tempted so,
my need grows oh so!

And I’ll love you so,
Our love will grow, o so,
That we’ll grow Together old!

The place in your heart
is forever mine,
together we’ll sha-are,
a love di-vine!

guitar, long

Ho, beauty and your grace,
are aspects of your charms,
I love you, o dear,
and want you in my arms!

Beauty and your grace,
are aspects of your charms,
I love you, o dear,
and want you in my arms!

The warmth of your br-eath,
the love of your ca-ress,
my heart gets tempted so,
my need grows oh so!

And I’ll love you so,
Our love will grow, o so,
That we’ll grow Together old!

The place in your heart
is forever mine,
together we’ll sha-are,
a love di-vine!

guitar, long

Hey, softly falling raindrops,
and your dancing in the rains,
my heart gladdens watching you,
and I’m flying like a crane!

Softly falling raindrops,
and your dancing in the rains,
my heart gladdens watching you,
and I’m flying like a crane!

To bathe in your love,
to fall in your love,
my heart just cr-ies,
my need grows oh so!

And I’ll love you so,
Our love will grow, o so,
That we’ll grow Together old!

The place in your heart
is forever mine,
together we’ll sha-are,
a love di-vine!

La la lalalaalaa,
La la lalalaalaa,

~

I would like to attribute the origin of ‘beauty and your grace, are aspects of your charms’ to one of my all time favorite poems ‘She Walks In Beauty’ by George Gordon, Lord Byron.

Moving Onwards…

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31st December, 2014 | 16:26 – 17:26

As the end of this day draws nigh,
another year passes us by –
moments we cheered, moments we cried,
memories that make life worthwhile.

I leave behind moments that left me dry,
a few when I felt a fish deep-fried.
There were moments of truth, moments of lie –
sometimes I lost – though always tried.

I carry forward new friends, allies,
people intelligent and worldly-wise,
and experiences, and all books so nice,
that will help me grow, – I’ll arise.

This New Year there will be a positive chi,
every obstacle will I defy,
opportunities will open in a brightly lit sky,
to the highest zenith will I fly!

Dear Lord, please do guide,
Lead me on, to do – or to die.

~

Here’s wishing all my friends a very happy, peaceful, joyous, and prosperous 2015! 🙂

Hey Girl, If It’s Your 18th B’Day…

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Don’t shed tears, nor have fears,
for it’s your 18th year.

Be aware of life’s stunts,
for today you cross 216 months.

You can now get angry when your secrets leak,
for sure, it’s your 936th week!

You have your own looks, and have your own ways,
it’s true, you’ve seen 6,570 days.

As sweet as honey, as high as a tower, –
wow! it’s your 1,45,152nd hour!

You’re a beauty, with a voice like a Linnet,
enjoy, dear Girl, it’s your 87,09,120th minute.

Believe in yourself, become a legend –
you’ve already seen 52,25,47,200 seconds!

~

Rock ‘n’ Roll…

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4th March, 1998 | 11:20 – 11:35

Rock ‘n’ Roll yeah Rock ‘n’ Roll – For it’s a matter of the Soul!
Rock ‘n’ Roll yeah Rock ‘n’ Roll – For tonight my friend, that’s your goal!

Rock ‘n’ Roll in your house – Rock ‘n’ Roll on the road –
Rock ‘n’ Roll when you are high – Rock ‘n’ Roll when you are low!

Rock ‘n’ Roll will make you smile – Rock ‘n’ Roll will make you glow –
So, Rock ‘n’ Roll when you are down – and Rock ‘n’ Roll will make you soar!

Rock ‘n’ Roll in your dreams – Rock ‘n’ Roll in your snores –
So, Rock ‘n’ Roll and have some fun – and Rock ‘n’ Roll –

And have some moooooooooore!
Hah!

~

Another Undated Song

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I’m so crazy in passion,
that I’ll love you ever more.
I want to hold you closer,
caress your body and soul.

My hearts’ feeling much lighter,
the dark days seem so brighter –
be with me, hold me tighter,
and I’ll prove I’m a survivor.

Your smiles brighten my day,
your laughter shows the way, –
I’m happy you’re in my life,
and I’ll ensure you always stay!

Don’t hear what people speak,
don’t care for what they say,
You’re in my arms, my love,
and together to the world’s end we’ll sail.

~

Mama Lee’s Song…

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Undated

C’mon hear the story of
Mama Lee –
She was cool, and
she was free.
She had a home, and
she had a car,
she bought some shares
that were at par.
Yeah, yeah, yeayea yeah!
Hey!
Yeah, yeah, yeayea yeah!

She had a hotel, and
it ran a bar,
They served a beer that
tasted sour.
Mama Lee was happy,
and she was gay,
To many-a-lives
she showed the way!
Yeah, yeah, yeayea yeah!
Hey!
Yeah, yeah, yeayea yeah!

She made them dance and
she made them sing,
she taught what’s life,
and the joys it brings.
Then one day she heard the
Angels sing,
she got free that day.
She went to Him!
Yeah, yeah, yeayea yeah!
Hey!
Yeah, yeah, yeayea yeah!

~

Take Me, As I Am…

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Another attempt to write a light-hearted song.
Leave it to you to sing along if you can. 🙂

30th July, 1997 | 15:50 – 16:00

I may be funny,
I may be a bore,
I may be happy,
or I may be sore –
but hey, hey, heyhey hey,
Take me, as I am!

I may be cool,
I may be a wild,
I may be zany,
or I may be mild –
but hey, hey, heyhey hey,
Take me, as I am!

I may be noisy,
I may be a quiet,
I may be windy,
or may be a riot –
but hey, hey, heyhey hey,
Take me, as I am!

I may be awry,
I may be a zilch,
I may be weary,
or I may be rich –
but hey, hey, heyhey hey,
Take me, as I am!

I may be there,
I may be a here,
I may be far,
or I may be near –
but hey, hey, heyhey hey,
Take me, as I am!

~

Passing along a beautiful poem for the Season:


Beautiful! “Merry Yule to you all and may all Blessed Be!”

Shamanic Drum

A kind friend and fellow Tarot enthusiast just send this poem and I can not resist sharing it with you all 🙂 Enjoy!

A VISIT FROM THE YULESPIRITS
By Richard DeAngelis

‘Twas the night before Yule, when all ‘cross the heath,
Not a creature was stirring, Pagan, faerie or beast.
Wassail was left out and the altar adorned,
To rejoice that the Sun King would soon be reborn.

The children lay sleeping by the warmth of the hearth,
Their dreams filled with visions of belov’d Mother Earth.
M’Lady and I beneath blankets piled deep,
Had just settled down to our own Solstice sleep.

When a noise in the night that would give us no peace,
Awakened us both with the honking of geese.
Eager to see such a boisterous flock,
We raced to the window and our mouths dropped in shock!
Frau Holda
On the west wind flew a gaggle…

View original post 408 more words

Passing along a beautiful poem for the Season:


Beautiful! “Merry Yule to you all and may all Blessed Be!”

Shamanic Drum

A kind friend and fellow Tarot enthusiast just send this poem and I can not resist sharing it with you all 🙂 Enjoy!

A VISIT FROM THE YULESPIRITS
By Richard DeAngelis

‘Twas the night before Yule, when all ‘cross the heath,
Not a creature was stirring, Pagan, faerie or beast.
Wassail was left out and the altar adorned,
To rejoice that the Sun King would soon be reborn.

The children lay sleeping by the warmth of the hearth,
Their dreams filled with visions of belov’d Mother Earth.
M’Lady and I beneath blankets piled deep,
Had just settled down to our own Solstice sleep.

When a noise in the night that would give us no peace,
Awakened us both with the honking of geese.
Eager to see such a boisterous flock,
We raced to the window and our mouths dropped in shock!
Frau Holda
On the west wind flew a gaggle…

View original post 408 more words

Young At Heart ( ~ A Layman’s Tribute to John Denver)

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Continuing my song writing mood, this one is NOT based on any actual song, but is an attempt to actually write a fresh Country/Western-kind of song.

I was totally in awe of, loved, and inspired by the style of the legendary John Denver ( – remember Country Road?).

Leave it to you to sing along if you can. 🙂

25th June, 1997 | 1:35 AM

Young at heart, yeah
Young at heart –
he was always
Young at heart.
Kind of bold, ‘n’
kind of smart –
sear-ching for love.
Yeah, sear-ching for love.
Oo yeah yeah yeah,
Young at heart!

One day he just
saw her and
his feet got swe-hept
of the land.
They fell in love.
Yeah, fell in love!

The days spent talking,
the nights were warm,
whenever they met,
there came a storm.
She loved him too.
Yeah, loved him too.
Oo yeah yeah yeah,
loved him too!

Young at heart, yeah
Young at heart –
he was always
Young at heart.
Kind of bold, ‘n’
kind of smart –
Oo yeah yeah yeah,
Young at heart!

They got married,
and they settled down,
their house was in a
little town.
They had a son.
Yeah, had a son!

The son grew up
and he loved him so,
he taught him lessons,
he helped him grow.
He loved his son.
Oh! he loved him so!

Oo yeah yeah yeah,
loved him too!

The day came when he
be-came old,
his body got weak,
but he still was bold –
And young at heart
(ru-ru) young at heart!

Young at heart, yeah
Young at heart –
he was always
Young at heart.
Kind of bold, ‘n’
kind of smart –

Oo yeah yeah yeah –
And he died sooooo!

~

The Big Don

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Sachi-Yeh-Kahani-Hai

Seems in 1997, I was in an inspired-song writing mood, and wrote a few more lyrics in English for a few songs. This one is an interesting song “Sachchi Ye Kahani Hai” from the movie Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa, (1994) sung by the Amit Kumar, Udit Narayan, and Vijeta Pandit.

Try to listen to the song (linked), and sing along if you can. 🙂

23rd June, 1997 | 11:20 – 11:45

Long Music.

Introduction dialog:

Hello Friends,
What you are going to hear, is not just a song. It’s a true story. The real story of a real Don.

This is a true story,
listen my dear friends,
here in your city,
was a young man;
honest, loving, and an
unloved young man –
how to say he
becaaaame,
the Big Don.
The Big Don.

This is a true story,
listen my dear friends,
here in your city,
was a young man;
honest, loving, and an
unloved young man –
how to say he
becaaaame,
the Big Don.
The Big Don.

long music.
La … (4×3)

Wherever he went for getting a job,
all he got was an another jab –

short music piece.

Wherever he went for getting a job,
all he got was an another jab.
but he was a young guy,
young at his heart,
soon he left the
world of middle class.

But he was a young guy,
young at his heart,
soon he left the
world of middle class.

dialog
The day he became the Don, people started to fear him. He became a terror. What can I say more – the whole world was at his feet!

Tho’ what he wanted,
he had got,
but his hea-art
was still sad.
He’d have been happy
if he’d got –
if he’d got the loooooove
of the world!
Of the world!

This is a true story,
listen my dear friends,
here in your city,
was a young man;
honest, loving, and an
unloved young man –
how to say he
becaaaame,
the Big Don.

Don. Don. Don.
The Big Don.

long music.

How should I say
more of his tales,
lives of such
have always been stale.

short music piece.

How should I say
more of his tales,
lives of such
have always been stale.
His own people
never gave him love,
the darling of his heart
also left him yaar!

His own people
never gave him love,
the darling of his heart
also left him yaar!

Among his friends,
he was king,
Used to dance,
laugh and sing.
But those who knew him,
knew him close,
knew he was in lots,
lots of pain.
Lots of pain.

This is a true story,
listen my dear friends,
here in your city,
was a young man;
honest, loving, and an
unloved young man –
how to say he
becaaaame,
the Big Don.

Don. Don. Don.
The Big Don.
Don. Don. Don.
The Big Don.
Don. Don. Doooooon!

~

Need You Baby..

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need-you-baby

I was in an inspired-song writing mood, and tried to write lyrics in English for a sad, yet beautiful Hindi song “Sheeshe ke Gharon Mein” from the movie Sanam Teri Kasam, (1982) sung by the legendary Kishore Kumar.

Try to listen to the song (linked), and sing along if you can. 🙂

2nd January, 1997

Need you,
Baby,
Yes I do;

Need you,
Baby,
Yes I do;

This is
the voice
of my heart,
O Yes, Baby,
I need you.

Need you,
Baby,
Yes I do;

Need you,
Baby,
Yes I do;

This is
the voice
of my heart,
O Yes, Baby,
I need you..

Need you,
Baby,
Yes I do.
Need you,
Baby,
Yes I do.

long music gap…

I need you to hold
me to love me for me,
to scold me
wrong,
if I am.

I need you to hold
me to love me for me,
to scold me
wrong,
if I am.
I need you
to be
there for me,
till the golden
sun
turns blue.

small music gap…

O yes,
believe me,
O’ my dear,
my love for you
is
forever true.

Need you,
Baby,
Yes I do;

Need you,
Baby,
Yes I do;

Need you,
Baby,
Yes I do;

Need you,
Baby,
Yes I do;

long music gap…

I need you
baby,
to laugh with me,
to stop me
if I
ever cry.

I need you
baby,
to laugh with me,
to stop me
if I
ever cry.
To spread
the love that
this heart holds,
that is priceless
compared to gold.

O yes,
trust me,
O’ my heart,
for you’ll
forever
be my part.

Need you,
Baby,
Yes I do;

Need you,
Baby,
Yes I do;

Need you,
Baby,
Yes I do;

Need you,
Baby,
Yes I do;

~

Jeewan Marg Convent ( – now Jeevan Marg Sophia Secondary School [JMSSS], Deoria)

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30th July, 1996 | 11:20

Jeewan Marg Convent –
the name spells the aim –
to lead you to a path
that will lead you to fame.

Today, when schools have become a business-game,
here, there’s nothing that’s the same.
This school gave me knowledge,
and I’ll never put it to shame.

It gave me a lot of happy moments –
and a few that were sad,
but I still proudly bear its name,
and will forever carry its tag!

~

I attended the Jeevan Marg Convent School during 1986- 1990, while attending standard 3rd to 7th, but I still fondly remember the friendships made, and the knowledge gained during those fantastic-four years!

Autobiography of a Tree

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23rd July, 2000 | 12:00 – 00:12

Cracked earth for acres –
no sign of myself.
I’ve lost my identity
in a jungle of concrete.

I,
who gave you life,
you destroyed me?
You were my son,
who lay under my cool shade.
I helped you sleep
in my soft, breezy lullabies;
you were hungry,
I fed you delicious fruit;
you were shivering –
I cut my arms to give you warmth!
And,
you destroyed my whole existence?

Grant me a boon, O’ son,
plant me in your garden.
Help me spread my flowery fragrance
forever in your world.
Remember, son,
if I am not there,
you won’t survive either.

Save yourself
by saving me.

~

Love Is…

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Undated

A fire – let it burn.
An ocean – let it churn.

A feeling – let it show.
A bond – let it grow.

A magic, let it perform.
A religion – let it reform.

A passion – let it rise.
A flame that never dies.

A gem – let it shine.
You – be mine!

~

Also see – You.

A Prayer For A Peaceful Future (for Peshawar, and for the World)

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10th December, 1999

(Seems ironic that the prayer (modified today) was written in December, 1999 – almost 15 years ago – and holds so true in this painful moment. The prayer was written while working for Mr. Jagdish Gandhi, Manager, City Montessori School, Lucknow, and some branches might still be singing a bit different version of the Prayer in their Morning assembly.

Try to sing to the Tune of ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’.)

We pray for a peaceful world,
We pray for a hopeful world,
We pray for a loving world,
in the coming future.

We pray for peaceful years,
We pray for lesser tears,
We pray for worldwide cheers,
in the coming future.

We pray for friendly nights,
We pray for no more fights,
We pray for pleasanter sights,
in the coming future.

We pray you to sing with us,
We pray you to come with us,
We pray you to unite with us,
for a peaceful future.

~

But then, there’s a limit to everything – and snuffing out the light of the little ones – a child who went on her first day to playgroup – is just way too much.

The only way God can forgive You – TALIBAN – and not show you the doors of dozakh – hell – is to atone for your sins and give up your arms. Yes, you have been tortured too, and I can feel the pain you must have felt when you lost your near and dear ones, and understand that that’s what fuelled you to take revenge.

That said, I think you have done what you wanted to. So now, rise above, and end it here – right now. this will be for the best for all your – and our – future generations.

May Allah/God give you peace, and intelligence, and humanity to do the right thing.

A Terrible Tuesday For Peshawar

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17th December, 2014 | 9:21 – 9:51

Sidney Lanier (February 3, 1842 – September 7, 1881), about two centuries ago, in his poem ACKNOWLEDGMENT said:

“If I do ask, How God can dumbness keep
While Sin creeps grinning through His house of Time,
Stabbing His saintliest children in their sleep,
And staining holy walls with clots of crime?—”

I sit today. Aghast.
Appalled as fiends –
I can’t bear to call them Men that Mother’s bore –
chanting Allah is Great
can commit such a hideously heinous deed –
can make the innocent blood bleed.
Yes, the animals were shot down.
But – does it end here? Anywhere?

As Lady Macbeth once feared –
the criminal masterminds shall too fear –
As there will always be the smell of the blood and
‘All the perfumes of Arabia’ will not sweeten their horrible hands.

They will lie awake as Macbeth,
and be terrifyingly tormented –
Wondering
whose hands are plucking out their eyes!

Wash all you can, you demons, yet
all the water in the ocean cannot wash
this innocent, pure, blood from your hands!
Instead, your hands ‘will stain the seas scarlet,
turning the green waters red.’

I ask you – the other
gun-trotting, bomb-hurling, cold-blooded murderers –
will you, in the name of Jihad, support this deed?
Do you not worry about your own?
Remember – you HAVE to reap what you have sown.

What use are these killings,
Pray, tell me –
what do you want?
You silence the little left joyous sounds –
those of a child’s laughter –
in God’s Name?

Do you think even for once?
You claim you were tortured
and so you avenged –
but instead, you could have helped –
ended this cycle
used forgiveness – not AK47s –
as your weapons.

I can go on ranting –
and cannot further pretend –
Please, let’s all discuss,
find out ways for Peace –
and bring this to and end.

~

RIP, dear angels,
Maybe God did not want
you to see this ugly world
and wanted to keep you
Blessed around him,
surrounded in ethereal joys.

“I weep for you” – “I deeply sympathize”

We Shall Grow

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To the crusader of peace outside Capital Hall, Lucknow

You are not alone, Sir,
we the youth are with you.
If you want happiness, spread it—
got the clue?

Some of us have lost our souls,
in the race for money, misplaced our goals,
but, some live, still, just for others,
caring for their countrymen, their brothers.

Though the rate is slow,
but, be assured—we shall grow—
grow into one united nation,
without any creeds or vulgar fashions.

A day will come when humanity will rise,
Believe me, Sir, and don’t get surprised,
that day, Love shall reign supreme on our skies,
Where the peaceful, white dove flies.

~

This is the Title Poem of my first collection of poetry – We Shall Grow – that was published on 27th September, 2011.

What’s Friendship?

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Undated…

What’s Friendship?

Friendship is a gift of love – a way to care, and share.
It’s the joining of two hearts,
an Unsaid Vow –
never to part.

It’s the joining of two hands –
that don’t let go when the time demands.
It carries you thru’ the coldest oceans –
and sail through the hottest sands.

Today…while blogging

In happiness, it may not be around,
but be sad – and it surely surrounds.
It’s a tad bit deeper than love,
and doesn’t expect a treasure-trove.

Whether in daily touch –
or in contact once a year –
there can be none
than a true friend more dear.

~

“The best kind of friend is the kind you can sit on a porch swing with, never say a word, then walk away feeling like it was the best conversation that you ever had.” – Arnold Glasgow

What’s Love?

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Undated…

What’s Love?
Is it an emotion? Or a feeling?
Or a notion, that makes you caring?
I feel it’s a whole world, that’s based on sharing.

Love doesn’t just mean give-and-take –
and considers selfishness as something rake.
Love makes you laugh – love makes you cry –
even if you fail once, do give it another try!

~

IF…

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15th March, 1998 | 13:05 – 13:20

If there would be peace,
it will sure be very nice;
If there was more love,
there wouldn’t be any vice.

If there was friendship around,
happiness will surely be abound;
If there were no corrupt hounds,
there sure will surely be sweeter sounds.

If there were lesser guns,
we’ll surely see more rising suns;
if there were lesser bombs,
lesser tears will be shed over tombs.

If you heed this call friends,
we surely can see more peaceful trends;
if you agree, dear friends, to what I say,
let’s try following these, and we’ll be happy and gay.

~

Sorry…time for a U-turn..

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Hi Friends,
Sorry about no post today.
Was out attending a Cricket-based Training Program – OWNING PERFORMANCES AND IMPACTING RESULTS – PERSONAL LEADERSHIP AND CHAMPION TEAMS all day, and then was tied down with some more stuff.
I was also going through my collection of poems if I missed posting any here, and came up with about 11 poems and 12 songs.
So before I jump into the poems/thoughts I wrote after entering the 21st century, I will just do a U-turn and use the remaining days of December to share my missed thoughts. Some don’t look great, but I will just share them as they were – 15 years ago.
🙂

New Blog: Let’s Share Our Dreams…

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Dear friends,
Thanks a lot for your viewership and encouragement that you are showering me with on The Brilliance Of Four Seasons.

I am starting a new blog – Let’s Share Our Dreams – as a discussion forum where I will share my thoughts about dreams, as also share with you the actual dreams that I saw while asleep, and try to explain to you what they actually referred to in my Real life.

Time permitting, if you share your dreams with me, I would also try to interpret your dreams for you, if you want to share.

Cheers, Thanks, and Love,
Amit Kapoor

Dreams

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15th December, 2000 | 10:15 – 10:25

A living void,
inhabited by our inhibited thoughts,
fears, and feelings.

While in its lap,
we are active, yet inactive,
living – yet like dead,
loving – yet unloved,
asleep – yet awake.

We see – but our eyes don’t,
we feel – but cannot touch,
we speak – but cannot hear our own self.

It’s a divine world
that’s not our own –
yet, lived in the present.

~

Have seen too many vivid dreams, and love to interpret them. Nature, and the fantastique, both surprise us with the kind of hints they provide by means of our dreams.
Do you know if you dream of a Bear following you, it indicates that someone is harassing you in real life?

More on this in another chain of articles dedicated to dreams coming up soon.

The Drought

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7th December, 2000 | 11:38 – 11:50 — Wrote almost exactly 14 years ago!

The land lay lonely –
covered with crawling cracks
under the unrelenting, cold blooded sun.
Her children were hollow-eyed, empty-stomach.
The red dust
that once glorified the path dividing her hairline
had blown away two summers ago,
saturating her saree of multiple hues –
turning it white.

As she looked into
the three pairs of hollow eyes,
she was filled with a strange determination.
She looked up at Him,
and said “I’ll pass this test”,
while caressing the matted, rough,
course hair of her children.

The lecherous money-lender,
hollow cheeked, and a receding hairline,
welcomed the woman at his doorstep
with a toothless grin.
The wretched woman had no choice.
The deal was obvious –
give, and take.

9th December, 2000 | 12:53 – 13:01

She lay there.
A naked picture of innocent virtue.
An epitome of sacrifice.

As the devilish deed was done,
the hungry eyes of her children
floated before hers.
Her mind was blank, her body, numb, –
all she felt
was the sheer ecstasy, the delight
her children would express
when their hunger was satiated.

As she stumbled
out of the devils doorway,
the drought was over for her family –
and her white saree had a stain.

~

– did you think of Radha rani and Sukhilal while reading this?

The images, and reference used is from the Epic Indian Movie – Mother India.
There can’t be a better pic for this.

Men D’oza ( ~ an Ode to G. B. Shaw)

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23rd November, 2000 | 19:10 – 19:18

His eyes moved all around.
As did his neck –
while his hands slyly pocketed
the nine new, still smelling of wood, Pocket Diaries
in his long overcoat.

He was making sure that nobody sees him.
But, what about Him?
“Bah!” he thought. “I ain’t no Saint.
And I ain’t not robbing no poor.
I’m Men D’oza,
and I live by robbin’ the rich.
I help the poor, like meself, yessir,
and I know it ain’t no wrong.”

Thinking thus, with a proud, erect gait,
he walked out of the gate,
whistling merrily.

~

The work has been inspired by a character called Mendoza from Man and Superman by G.B. Shaw, whose English (if it can be called so) has been aligned to the style of how Eliza Doolittle speaks in Shaw’s another great work, Pygmalion.

An Empty Nothingness

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This is a video everyone must watch – please!

21st October, 2000 | 11:10 – 11:30

Living in a void.
That’s what we are doing.
Waking up – ‘coz we went to sleep;
Sleeping – ‘coz we’ve been awake for so long.
Work – ‘coz we don’t know better;
Talk – ‘coz we don’t value silence.

But then,
what’s the use of all this?
Where does it lead to?
We come empty handed –
and we will go back likewise –
where to?
ah! there lies the surprise!
Nobody knows.

But then,
nobody cares about it either.
All – including myself –
are busy – very busy –
fooling ourselves.
Running,
sans reason, sans understanding,
after prestige, power, pelf –
after woman, wealth, wine –
not knowing, not realizing
the Game that’s Divine.

God –
wonder who He is,
but He surely controls all –
plays, and enjoys the Game,
while we, mindless puppets,
go on dancing eternally
tied, to the threads
attached to, and pulled by,
our Life Givers’ Hands.

Sometimes loving,
sometimes loathing,
we continue
living this lifeless life
like zombies walking
in the nowhere of time and space,
a Trishanku.

~

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