Love

You cannot measure love the way you can the length of a rod or the height of a building

- Paulo Coelho, The witch of Portbello

No way out

No way out, no way out

From this dark dark circling mess

The more I struggle, wriggle

The more I get tangled in this net

There is not a ray of hope

There is not a way out

I just cannot go on hurting

I better put a stop to all this

When I try to cut loose

The knife goes to my flesh

My life oozes out

The net remains intact

I realized with a start

I still cannot hurt the net

This net is too dear

I loved at the cost of my life..

Can an error correct another error...?

That is what I am trying to do ...

Mirror

I gave him a Mirror

Clean, bright, shining

I could see my face and bright eyes

My smile reflecting on its surface

He splashed black all over it

Greased it with bright blood

Smeared ash of innocence over that

Then slashed bright orange and green dreams

The spectators oohed and awed

What a marvelous piece of art?

We have not seen anything so spectacular

For how much we could have this please?

His triumphant smile told me

 “See, a piece of glass minting money”

My heart screamed silently at him

“But I could no longer see me on it…”

GR, your wife sure was a most fortunate lady ...


With you for ever , I am here
Why shed tear , tell me dear.
From up above , I 'll take care
No more 've thee any fear
From the path we preferred , never ye waver
Unto ye nothing 'll be a scare.
Said ye yes to what said my heart
When a path together we sought.
To serve and love each other
Always our ardent desire.
What you say , I listen
Fear ye 'll have none
For thou art mine
For ever , for ever mine.

Do you remember ?

Do you remember what I used to call you?

Do you remember what I used to tell you?

Do you remember how I used to look at you?

Do you remember how I used to smile at you?

I still remember what you used to call me

Your words still echoes in my heart

I still remember the way you used to look at me

And when I close my eyes your smile mirrors in my mind

When world sleeps around me, I stay wide awake

In the middle of night, your memories

Brings only tears to my eyes and

A lingering ache to my torn heart..

They say “time is the best healer”

But why time cannot heal my wound

Each passing second makes it stronger and deeper

Sinking my conscious to eternal sleep…

They say I walk always in a trance

I don’t see even with my eyes open

Nor do I hear when they shout at me

Do you feel my pain, my slow disintegration?

I search for your face among strangers

I search for your name on all printed letters

I try to see you in people around me

Even trying foolishly to substitute others in your place

I am admitting defeat

Cannot go on anymore

I search for you day and night

Fully aware that you are watching my plight ..

LOVERS GIFT -  Verse No 32

         By Tagore

                          Many a time when the spring day knocked at our door , I kept busy with my work and you did not answer . Now when I am left alone and heart-sick  the spring day comes again ,  but I know not how to turn him away from the door . When he came to crown us with joy the gate was shut but now he comes with his gift of sorrow , his  path must be open

         Now GR takes over ( Tagore sits by my side and pats on my back  )

                           Here I am , left alone , all alone

                           Heart sick , sad and sullen

                           Rushes in through our door

                           The spring , in all its glory and splendor

                           What use of spring unto me now

                           As by me sits not my love.

                           To turn him away from hither

                           I know not how , my dear.

                           Again and again in the days past

                           To make us happy , the spring did visit

                           Immersed in work , I cared him never

                           Nor did you answer

                           To dip us in honey , in joys many

                           And to make our days sunny

                           Many a times did he come

                           Unto him extended we not a welcome

                           Now let his path be wide open

                                         As comes he with a gift of sorrow and pain

Verse # 30 Lovers Gift - Tagore

The below is from Verse 30, Lovers gift by Tagore. It seems Tagore wrote this when he was bereaving the death of his beloved...

         Translation by Tagore

                            "'  The spring of flowers breakout like the passionate pain of unspkoen love. With their breath comes the memory of my old day songs. My heart , of a sudden , has put on green leaves of desire .My love came not but her touch is in my limbs , and her voice comes across the fragrant fields . Her gaze is in the sad depth of the sky , but where are her eyes ? Her kisses flit in the air , but where are her lips ?  ""

          Now GR's translation of the above

                                   My songs old and sweet

                                   That into her ears once I did tweet

                                    At such a time of the year

                                    When faded away traces of winter

                                    And descended on earth the Eden - a bit

                                    It was spring , the lover's delight.

                                    The voice of Nature  loud and clear

                                    I love to hear

                                    As the spring is here , in all its splendor

                                    The songs of birds fill the air

                                    The sun slips through the mist

                                    To seek and be in her midst.

                                     To kiss and sweeten her feet

                                      Fragrant flowers breakout

                                      Kindle they in my heart a pain

                                      The words of love not spoken

                                      Though it was my heart's desire

                                       Where now burns a fire.

                                      Grass and leaves , green and fresh

                                      In my heart , thoughts of days old spring afresh

                                      From across the fragrant fields

                                      Floats unto me her voice in floods

                                      Her touch on my limbs still warm

                                      Though to me ' ll she never come.

                                       The infinite sky sad and sullen

                                       In its depth her gaze seen

                                       But where hath gone her sparkling eyes?

                                       In the air flit her kisses

                                       But where hath gone her cherry lips ? ""

Why are we protecting Criminals…?

Why is our justice system allowing the criminals to cover their face while being photographed? 

Today in the news paper I saw the photograph of all six rapists with their face covered. It really made me seethe with rage. They are not victims to have their identity protected. They have participated in a most brutal act and our legal system is bestowing favours on them by allowing them to cover their head  while in public. It is this protection rapists enjoys prompt others to commit such crimes again and again.

It is high time that we change our legal system. The minor of the lot who committed the most heinous acts will face only 3 years in jail. Shame on all of us… 

 

Some people say they molest women because their dress was provocative. If that was the case what do we say of all the male gynecologists? 99.5 % of them are not rapists....

So indecent dressing is just an excuse to shift the responsibility of the crime.  A good man, if he sees a woman naked, will not behave indecently. He will give his shirt or coat to cover her nakedness.

The lawyer of the defendants said that women should not be out of home at night. In what century does he live. Will he say the same if his daughter or mother or wife was attacked? 

I read the interview of Jyothi’s mother today and she wants all the rapists hanged. I echo her sentiment, let all the rapists be hanged or electrocuted… We don’t want such men in India…There are so many loving, caring and understanding men in our country. So we can very well live without a few brutes like Jyothi’s rapists or the rapists of the Punjabi girl whose news came in today’s paper. Such men are a malice and disgrace to our society…

Let Government make capital punishment a norm for brutal crimes..whether it is rape or political murders. If anyone knows of any organization fighting for this please send me the link, I would like to join and support them…

For an India where Human beings live and not just animals….