Saturday, September 05, 2009

Shehnai

To mourn
is
to Be,
so it says.

To mourn
is
to move,
and
be moved,

to
move beyond
misery
and
be moved
by
a dear one's
moving beyond.

*-*-*

And,
thus it stood
unmoved,
on the banks
where the river swivels,
where the ash smeared Babas,
facing the orange-tinged sky,
injecting those
Civaya-Nama injections
sink into oblivion


And,
thus it stood,
unmoved,
on those
dusty neat footsteps
which staged
a zillion gazillion
dramas of death.


Those very footsteps
where its master
took her
on his arms.

onto
his graceful arms,
she remained,
like a pepper stem
whirled across
trellises.

Everytime,
On those
first taste of touch,
On those
first clearing of throat,
On those
first RagaDharbaris, and
Shivaranjanis,
She wept.

And her tears
swept the city
clean,
an ethereal
collapse of
space onto time,
and time
onto the timeless.

Pondering
on the timeless,
depersonalized
in his leaving beyond,
it stood
still,
Unmoved.

And thought
of the time,
where the player
and the played,
the maestro
and the mastered,
mourned in unison,
the rhythm of Benares.

(To Bismillah)

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

Aravind,

Why no posts in tamil and english in recent times?

Mullai

Anonymous said...

Do you find me hot ?

You can find my pics here

[url=http://sexscreener.org/p/random/1992]My Profile[/url]

Anonymous said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Anonymous said...

Nice brief and this enter helped me alot in my college assignement. Thank you seeking your information.

Anonymous said...

快樂與人生,是最好的伴侶 ..................................................

Anonymous said...

PLEASE WRITE MORE! PLEASE DO!

Anonymous said...

I AM ITCHING TO COMMENT, IM NOT JOKING...FOR THOSE WHO LOVE TO COMMENT ALONE, PLEASE DO A FAVOUR...WRITE SOMETHING.