KRISHNA









When the night deepens, I am reminded of the Rasa festival.
The night - the deep night, intensified by so many mysteries
and all around, light overflowing from the moon-bowl.
Near the jora-mandapa, there has gathered a crowd
and you, Neela, are a part of it.
On the dias there is light and song and a host of revels,
the love-play of Radha-Krishna has gathered momentum.

This is not a fair game
said the breast of the mountain,
when You devoured its body with fire
the fire of eternal love
and consumed all its hidden treasure.

The fire squandered meadows and fields
and the nests of the birds too-
a raging inferno which could be called
casualties personified.

Why You try to flee today
having imposed this on them ?

Where would You flee ?

The faith of fire is to devour
and it will do so,
even if its You.

I want to play on Your flute!
Oh beloved, the same notes which
I heard You playing I would also play!
I will put on Your jewellery,
and will put on my jewellery on You...


You become Radha
and I will become Madhava,

And then we will play the sweet tales
of crimson love.

When the nights are too silent
and the days too long and warm,
these melodies remind me of You.

O star that shines too far away,
a bit too brilliantly for my mortal eyes,
You have known peace, discarding the pain
of many roads and rivers and the pliant skin
that shrouds our senses and become an opiate.

A single voice rises in the dense foliage
around my lone window to the world
of joy and confusion and utter sorrow.
I start at the notes that flow from it.
Such questions were never asked
nor such answers made.

I listen to promises
and keep waiting
everything stops
but this does not.

 

 

 

 

Furiously blow the whirlwinds.

Only the demented leave their homes

and loved ones go out.

 

Even the wandering ascetic stays put,

birds are afraid to stir

out of their nests, let alone

the human being.

 

Vishnu rides at this time

in the ocean of cream

with Lakshmi.

 

Says the poet Kesavadasa

neither the vedas nor tradition

approves leaving home

in the month of Ashadha.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am forever blessed!

For I am his own breath, within his flute!

And if that breath is used up in one song

I shall not mourn.

The joy of all the worlds is in his flute,

and I his breath!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SERIES : KRISHNA

 

I did this series back in 2012. It was just the beginning of a travel into Him. To know the divine love and to get intoxicated in the music of his flute.

The passion that made even the moonlight to rain nectar and winds to become static. This is a journey, of love, passion, devotion

and loosing oneself in the flow of life. This was my first series after my school days and it has been completed

within a period of ten days ! They were exhibited in India, U.K, and Portugal and some of the paintings

are now in collection of Satchi Gallery, London, My College , Sanjib Sinha Sir and Sayandeep Roy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Piercing the bodies of the night
came a loud booming sound.
The terrified child's hands clasp
in mother's veil.
Moonlit nights and darkened ones too-
Two sides in conflict live here
and tonight this crossfire subdues both.

When it is day, the public swarm outside
to watch the bullet-riddled clouds lie
spread eagled, dead across the sky.



 

All these days
I have tried hard to ascertain
how much rainfall would wet
those eyes of stone.
The verandah has seen
your sighs ignored-
solitary as they had been.
The black tears of my pen
have wet the bared back
of the paper before me.
I have not yet been able
to write a reply to your letter.



 

The unfamiliar evening is like a delicious drink.

The breeze promise a shower of rain soon.

The desert, thirsty for so long a time,

perceives your form in these obscure shadows.

 

If you descend as rain on the desert,

this hapless earth shall find some peace.

The horizon shall become the wasteland of Chaitra

if your form bodies forth in these obscure shadows.







 

So finally here I am. Writing my own blog. Well had it not been the continuous kicks of my friends, I would never have come out of my limbo and write. Hope to have a great time blogging.