The White Bougainvillea

2012-02-08T01:14:00.000-08:00

A small bird that fluttered over my head,
Now lies in a grave - peaceful and at peace.

A flower that grew only on the peaks,
Now swings with my garland.

A joy that lay in pursuit,
Now fades in satisfaction's company.

(c) hp.

2011-11-15T16:58:00.000-08:00

Duniya se bachane khud ko khudgarz banaaya,
Khudgarzi ke andhere me khud hi ko gumaaya.
Unn farishto se saaya chhudaaya,
Jin ki aankhon mein aaiyne ko paaya.
Ab khaunf aur khalish yahi hai 'besabr',
Kahin inn naadaan tarikon mein tune khud ko nahi bhulaaya.

(c) hp.

2011-11-08T16:34:00.001-08:00

The road is known yet unfamiliar,
The days are long yet numbered,
Everything seems right yet doesn't feel right,
There isn't any doubt yet I hesitate.
(c) hp.

Moth On My Fingertips

2011-10-20T14:07:00.000-07:00

A hidden boy saw the world with
Big eyes, cherishing every sight.
He dreamt of a symphony of
Every note he caught from the air.

I delighted in him till the moment
Moth rested on my fingertips, and
With him flew away my nostalgia.

(c) hp.

The Nothingness

2011-10-18T16:56:00.000-07:00

Sense by sense,
Limb by limb,
Thought by thought,
How cleverly we emerge out of the nothingness.

Senses to knowledge,
Knowledge to wisdom,
Wisdom to intellect.
Only an intuition remains of the nothingness.

Ink or blood,
Coarse or shrill,
Past or future,
Nothing does capture the nothingness.

Moment by moment,
Ounce by ounce,
Step by step,
We are journeying into the nothingness.

(c) hp.

2011-10-02T15:14:00.001-07:00

Dil ki kharoch ko kuredte rahe,
Aankhon se aansu nichodte rahe.
Haseen labon pe le aate rahe,
Pair anjaan rastoon pe jaate rahe.

Tasavvur mein jeene ki firaq mein 'besabr',
Zindagi, yeh zindagi yun hi zayaa karte rahe.

(c) hp.

2011-09-29T11:35:00.001-07:00

A bouncing drop of water,
Rebellious graffiti under the bridge,
Adamant rain in the sun,
And the moth rushing into a flame;
Show signs of life to me,
Tell me my senses are still alive.
(c) hp.

Where Silence is Absent

2011-08-11T07:56:00.000-07:00

Living in a city feels like living in an overcrowded refuge camp. Music, right now, is just a veil over the cacophony to reassure myself that life is still sweet even though I can't hear my own thoughts clearly.

A day is not far when in middle of nowhere I will scream; scream so loud that all will stop; stop in shock, stop to reason and proclaim me insane and perhaps inhuman too out of their nearsightedness in this infinite world.

If and when I do move out of the city, it will be for fulfilling this intense craving for silence. To be with myself and myself alone. To be able to make an honest attempt at hearing my heartbeats. To be able to hear music like it is to taste a pinch of salt in water. To be at a place where absence of sound itself isn't absent.

2011-07-15T12:03:00.001-07:00

Dreams are overrated. They vanish at dawn leaving you tongue-tied.
(c)hp.

2011-07-15T12:03:00.000-07:00

Dreams are overrated. They vanish at dawn leaving you tongue-tied.
(c)hp.

2011-07-13T09:05:00.001-07:00

Apparently the two banks never united;
They just coyly smiled.

One bad summer the river dried,
And I saw their clasped hands.

I smiled too.

(c) hp.

2011-06-28T10:00:00.000-07:00

Kum se kum aaeene se to yeh umeed na thi,
Bewafa hum se hi humari fitrat chhupata raha.
-besabr.

Literal translation from Hindi:

Did not expect such from the mirror at least;
Disloyal, kept hiding my nature from myself.
(c) hp.

2011-05-31T12:09:00.000-07:00

Every moment I'm alone,
I feel a knife pressing inside of me.

And for every moment spent away from myself,
The knife gets sharper.

(c) hp.

2011-05-28T12:40:00.001-07:00

I surrendered to the drag of time's flow.

I'm sinking in moments,
Rotating in whirlpools of emotions,
Brushing with the stubborn rocks,
A lost identity like a yellow leaf.

Someday someone will find me -
A rich alluvium in the delta of death.

(c) hp.

2011-05-26T15:03:00.000-07:00

A bud conceals,
With sweet conspiracy, with joy,
And blooms with beauty...

An ocean swells,
With tranquility, with pride,
And bursts with valour...

A meteor travels in space,
With anonymity, with intentions,
And streaks the sky with light...

For thou to witness! For thou to awaken!
For thou to harken, and tell their stories.

(c) hp.

Just spelt it out... Not much effort

2011-05-21T01:06:00.000-07:00

Love is string to your kite,
Love is anchor to your boat,
Love is shackles on your feet,
To keep you safe, to keep you sane.
(c) hp.

A voice whispers from within,
'That's not who you are. Or is it that that's not who you were?'
What reply am I to give with clenched teeth?
(c) hp.

2011-05-21T00:53:00.000-07:00

I've been measuring the world on my own scale;
On one pan are my ever evolving ideals,
On the other s the world as I perceive it to be.
No wonder they keep oscillating, baffling me.
(c) hp.

2011-05-21T00:49:00.000-07:00

Aahista Aahista hum phisalte hain,
Katraa Katraa hum pighalte hain.
'Kahaan gaya imaan?'
Katl kar ke rooh ka,
Hum jism se poochte hain.
(c) besabr (hp).

Literal translation from Hindi:

Slowly slowly I slip,
Piece by piece I dissolve.
'Where did the conscience go?'
After killing the soul,
I ask this to the body.
(c)hp.

Random Rant

2010-10-26T08:54:00.001-07:00

Frolicking froth fizzles away but the salty taste lingers. Sun will rise and blaze all day before it sets again. The vastness overwhelms then swallows your finiteness into infinite depth. If you can fathom it, you ought to be marine and not terrestrial.

2010-07-16T05:35:00.000-07:00

I look into her eyes,
And I'm devoid of pain.
I'm a poet no more,
Sorry, I'm a poet no more

(c)hp

2010-07-16T05:32:00.001-07:00

Melting cake smells to be sliced,
Hot cappuccino froths to be sipped,

There's a mirage-less sparkle in your eyes,
And your considerations nosedive in the frozen sea of my time.

A crowd of words elbow out of you,
And mine dangle, wanting to be cobbled on this path together.

(c)hp.

2010-07-16T05:32:00.000-07:00

Words not uttered,
Sentences left midway,
Watching you walk,
Nodding at your exclaimations,
Wondering all that could be,
Absorbing all that is,
Emotions that baffle,
Questions that mute,
Replies that sigh,
Thoughts that blurr,
Longings that elude,
Glances that express,
Feelings that linger,
And you.

(c)hp.

Some Question Answers in Urdu/Hindi

2010-07-12T12:00:00.000-07:00

Pehele utari zehen me fir talab me raat ,
yun katra katra utari mere ghar me raat.
pehele bhigi os me fir aansuo me raat ,
yun boond boond nahayee meri nazar me raat.
pehele hasi palako par fir rukhsaar me raat,
yun lamha lamha muskurayi mere laboo pe raat.
-ashika 'tanha' vyas.

chhoti chhoti khushiyaan lekar aayi hansti raat,
pehle aankho mei muskurayi, fir dil mein utari raat...
banke kangan khanak gayi, haathon mein ye raat...
ghunghru banke naachi bahut, paagal banke raat...
-amitabh dasgupta

mere deen ki khushiyon se jali, kali hui raat...
sula ke aasmaan ko aayi, mujhe sulaane raat...
har subah rokta tha, roke na ruki raat...
aaj na jaane kyun aayi, bina bulaaye yeh raat...
- besabr (hp).

Chal pada kis raah pe mai,
Kaha mera thikana hai??..
Aaya to tha khushiyon k sagar me mai,
Ab kis or kis raah pe jaana hai??..
Sochta hun kya khoya kya paaya maine,
Jindagi jine ka kya ab bhi koi bahana hai??..
hamdard ab tu hi bata de mujhko..
Kya ab bhi in saanso ka koi thikana hai??..
kahte hai vo muskurana tum hamehsa meri jaan,
Mai hans k bola meri ruh, mere aks..
Muskurana to ab bas ek bahana hai..
Apni saanso, dhadkanon ko maut k waqt tak rulana hai,
Muskurana to ab bas ek bahana hai..
Muskurana to ab bas ek bahana hai..
-gaurav singh gaur

jitna bhi mana kar lo, ek din muskurana hai...
kisi wajeh se nahi to be-wajahi pe hi muskurana hai.
-besabr(hp).

2010-07-07T07:31:00.000-07:00

When I sit on my terrace, facing the sun setting behind the buildings, spreading the golden glow till it turns elvish white on the zenith and fades into the blue of the sky darkening towards east... The grandeur of looking from horizon to horizon... It absorbs me for a moment obscuring the whirling thoughts of my mind and putting it in a lovable hypnotized state... the idea of clouds lined golden from their western ends floating graciously high, very high above me... remembering the famous lines 'earth is like an apple, whirling silently in space'...

I can't keep but from condemning myself and a sea of pity gobbles me up - for all the petty matters of ambition, relationships, money that eat my days after days when all I need is to watch the grandeur that is earth & space till I cannot remain from eating or pooping and then get back to watching the sky and the earth.

2010-07-01T15:10:00.000-07:00

sapne reh gaye hain tasawwur ban kar,
neend beh gayi mrugjal ban kar.
iss tishnagi mein pehchaan kho chuke,
ab bhatak rahe hain 'besabr' ret ban kar.

- besabr (hp).

Literal translation from Hindi:

Dreams ended up being imagination,
Sleep flowed away like water seen in mirage.
Having lost identity in this desert,
I roam directionless like a grain of sand.
(c) hp.

2010-06-28T12:08:00.001-07:00

baadal garje aur baat ansooni reh gayi,
barsaat hamaare aansuon ko paani keh gayi.
kaaynaat ki saazish thi - poori ho gayi,
un do palo mein ek 'besabr' zindagani kho gayi.

-besabr (hp).

Clouds thundered and words remained unheard,
Rain made my tears also look like water.
It was a conspiracy by the universe that got fulfilled,
In those two moments, I lost one life.
(c) hp.

વર્સાદ કેમ નથી આવતો?

2010-06-24T12:07:00.001-07:00

બોલાવ દિલ ખોલી ને, હું ધમધમતો આવીશ,
બોલાવ યાદ કરી ને, હું વરસ્તો આવીશ.
મારો અનુભવ એક જ વચન માંગે છે,
હૈય્યુ મૂકી ને વર્સુ ત્યારે ફરીયાદ ના લાવીશ.

(c) hp.

Literal translation from Gujarati:

Call me heartily, I will come thundering;
Call me with nostalgia, I will come raining.
My experience asks for only one promise,
When I pour with all my heart, don't bring any complains.
(c) hp.

2010-06-23T11:48:00.000-07:00

નથી ઠેકાણુ, ફક્ત રસ્તો છે.
નથી ઈચ્છા, ફક્ત જરૂરત છે.
ગમતા અણગમતા માં શું ફરક?
જ્યારે સમય પસાર કરવો જ નથી.

Give it a go, man!

2010-06-11T11:15:00.001-07:00

Time and again, in the complexities of social protocols and mannerism, we often forget what it is to be our true self. The evolution of human race has progressed to today’s prosperity as compared to the Apes who negligibly evolve socially once their morphological evolution reaches an equilibrium. The principle of evolution works strongly on the basis of ‘survival of the fittest’. And we humans, along with a number of other mammals, reptiles, birds and fishes have survived not singly but in groups.

When there is a group, a social structure arises and hence the stratification within. It is nothing but natural that a strong and capable individual leads the group to a secure future and election of such a candidate happens on the basis of how cleverly and how fast an individual can climb up the social staircase. That would involve display of his/hers social capabilities, survival capacity and the courage to take responsibility of other individuals than himself/herself.

Coming back to the mankind, it is an important question to ask whether in today’s world we need social stratification or not. Anyone’s true reflexive answer would be yes – for the reasons I have myself provided above. But why can’t we look at the feasibility of the other alternative? Why do we need a discriminating social structure today when we have more intelligent ways like democracy and intellectual ways like debates to run our organization of human race efficiently? In a social structure, the minority is first suppressed of its rights and then pitied if they are rendered incapable or condemned if they form a sub-community for their own survival.

Most of us derive only pleasure from watching wildlife documentaries on television and it is indeed very amusing and entertaining to know about the most wonderful ways in which the natural world works. What I have seen people fail to achieve, is to observe and not just see. In nature too, there are individuals in groups of blackbucks, cranes and lions which have a way of their own, different than most members of the group. As shown by Mendel by his landmark experiment with pea plants in 1850s, every kind of permutation and combination of genes is possible, leading to very different kinds of individuals – that is the same reason why no two individuals have same finger prints (a very rare phenomenon indeed!). And it is…a very clever mechanism of the nature to introduce adaptability in the population for its survival.

Tracing back my own retrogressive path to human society, when I see many people claim that some kind of human behaviour is unnatural, I feel it’s all there before their own eyes and still they can’t see. They can’t understand that anything can be natural but not common. There are plants which aren’t green and birds that cannot fly. How do you define unnatural or natural? Is social discrimination of the minorities necessary? Cannot intellect prevail over basic instincts, now that we have evolved beyond a threshold… Perhaps this is necessary for further evolution of mankind in its present form.

While we continue debating in ultra ambitious UN meets on maneuvering the course of earth’s natural history in mankind’s favour, we might as well give the Copernican principle a small thought and to the fact that we still have to learn a lot from the ways of nature and progress towards being in harmony with it rather than compete with it.

Mud Brick Wall

2010-05-26T11:38:00.001-07:00

Flute from the horizon,
Seeps thru' my mud brick wall.
Early morning rays,
Peep from my mud brick wall.

The evening tide breeze,
Whistles thru' my mud brick wall.
Garden jasmine bloom,
Permeates my mud brick wall.

Thank you for your gift, darling,
I still have the mud brick wall.

- hp.

2010-04-29T23:34:00.001-07:00

Too many poems/lines not up here.. Phew... Uploaded some today... rest sometime later....

Ek Nazm

2010-04-29T23:08:00.000-07:00

Karobar nahi yeh dil ka,
dagabaazi hai.

Kabhi gair be-imaan nikla ishq mein,
to kabhi khud ne ki jaldbaazi hai.

Zindagi yunhi jalti rehti hai,
dhokebaazi mein.

Na jaane kya mazhab chhupa hai,
waqt ki nakaashi mein.

(c) hp.

Will put up in hindi script later.

Your exclamations...

2010-04-11T12:36:00.000-07:00

I'm just gliding on rising thermals of intuition and character. Do I deserve your exclamations?

- hp.

*Thermals are blobs of hot air rising in the atmosphere on which the heavy birds like kites, eagles and vultures glide or as we say, fly.

Desire pacifier

2010-04-11T11:56:00.000-07:00

The turmoil that bursts bubbles in flowing lava,
Churns my mind like the great 'samundra-manthan' by gods,
Spewing out vials of immortality and gallons of venom.
But all I desire is a tranquil shore looking onto horizon,
And to loose the count of days.

My mind is an untamable wild stallion,
I desire you, my pacifier.

- hp.

ચોખ્વટ / Clarification

2010-04-02T12:39:00.000-07:00

~ચોખ્વટ~

ફૂલ ને તો માત્ર ખીલ્વુ છે,
સુંદર્તા તમારે માંડવી છે.

દિવા ને તો માત્ર ટમટમ્વુ છે,
અંધારુ તમારે ભગાડવુ છે.

અને મારે તો માત્ર જીવ્વુ છે,
જીવનસાર તમારે કાઢવો છે.

-ભુરિયો.

Translation:

~Clarification~

A flower just wants to bloom,
It is you, who wants to enjoy the beauty.

A candle just wants to flickr,
It is you, who wants to shoo away the darkness.

And I just want to live,
It is you, who wants to draw conclusions.

(c) hp.

Once More

2010-03-10T01:13:00.000-08:00

Dear Hershal,
Here's an ode to your steenth screw up of a relationship, a consequence of my latest armageddon. . . Congrats!
-------------------------
Once more . . .
The hunter becomes the hunted,
The victim is announced guilty,
The coin flips
And its tails, once more.
- hp. 10/3/10 .
-------------------------
Love,
Hershal.

Mann मन्न

2010-03-08T11:02:00.000-08:00

Neend ooD jaati hai ek hawaa ke jhonke se,
Mausam palaT jaata hai do nazron ke dhoke se.
Bewakuf, aalsi kahika, nikkamma hai,
Is ek pal ke chashme se poori zindagi naap leta hai.
- hp.

मन्न

नींद ऊड जाती है एक हवा के झोंके से,
मौसम पलट जाता है दो नज़रों के धोके से.
बेवकूफ़, आलसी कहिका, निक्कममा है,
इस एक पल के चश्मे से पूरी ज़िंदगी नाप लेता है.
(c) hp. 8/3/2010.

2010-02-13T10:47:00.001-08:00

बादलों ने ना समझा बताना मुनासीब,
बरसे बग़ैर ही चल दिए |
ज़मीन उनके हाल-ए-दिल से नावाकीफ,
रीश्ते को दफ़न ही कर दिए |

अब कब्र पर सिर टिक के रोता है,
ज़िंदा को दफ़ना के ईमान,
और आसमान पे टिकाए बैठी है,
बंजर उम्मीद, दो अखियाँ |

--
एक दफ़ा इशारा तो कर देते,
हम एक और साल इंतेज़ार कर लेते |

--hp.

Road

2010-02-12T12:40:00.000-08:00

Tiny gravel rolled over,
Continuously trodden over by feet and wheels.
Fossilizing human blood, sweat and bounce imprint,
Catalyzing human advancement.

- hp.

2010-02-07T22:09:00.000-08:00

नैनन का जाने असुअन का स्वाद,

उह तो बहा के सो लिए

लब ही तो चखत है नमकीन नदियाँ,

और फिर भी बेवजह मुस्कुरा लिए

-hp.

Translation:

What do eyes know of the taste of tears?

They sleep after setting them aflow.

It is lips that taste this salty river,

And still smile in vain.

For my readers...

2010-01-29T23:08:00.000-08:00

The words are pale
Sans a reader.

The notes are ghostly
Sans a listener.

The silence speaks
For a soul.

The air sweetens
For a flower.

(c) hp.

Khaamoshi

2010-01-25T10:34:00.000-08:00

I wrote this long back around 25 Jan 2010. Feeling too lazy to type it in hindi in my snail pace internet so here it is in english script.

Rehte hain hum khaamosh
Ke yeh mehsoos kar paaye,
Jo jazbaat the chhupe nigaahon mein,
Unhe jataa paaye, nahi paaye.

Rehte hain hum khaamosh
Ke yeh tay ho jaaye,
Jo kaante the chubhe dil mein,
Unhe seh paaye, nahi paaye.

Tarika ban gayi hai adaa-ae-khaamoshi,
Dard mein hi jeete hai; ashk aaye, nahi aaye.

(c) hp.

Surrenders to Violin of the Master

2010-01-18T12:22:00.000-08:00

It was an era of Mughal emperors, she curled her hair unconsciously while waiting on a river side for her lover - who is escaping the orthodoxes of village rebuking his love for a non-islamic girl.

The far away sounds gain intensity with each thud-applause of the horses' hooves. She takes a refuge behind thick woods, and stares into the sandy clearing with river flowing behind her and the crows fleeing above. Two veiled men are following her man, both on dusty stallions while he rode a black mare.

In a sweeping move, that brought an 'aahh!' on her face, that fanned his robe, he turns around, whips his sword and a bleeding head rolls behind as the stallion races ahead with the torso still hanging on saddle. While the other villain still carries on with ferocity, red eyes, coarse scream, following her man and she's shedding tear brooks without a sob, without a blink in her eyes. Her feeble feminine mind absorbed the scene like the unwilling clouds glowing with sun behind them. Her heart had hardly clotted the blood from the first visual wound and another bloody head topples off the dusty stallions running in opposite directions with hanging bodies drawing a bloody trail behind.

The scene remained paused for a while, for the while it took for the dust to settle down, for the while it took for her to succumb to ground with silent stomach retractions, for the while he took to breathe out fire in roars and tears. The scene remained paused till sun descended from zenith to horizon, till birds settled back on trees, till crows and dogs made a ruckus over scavenging supper. The scene remained paused.

Recently, I have taken to jumping into unknown waters after a long period of lame,
uninspiring and adventure free decisions. One such jump I took today was to go for the Violin Concert by
Prof. T. N. Krishnan due to my friend Chaithra's insistence. The institute which hosted the concert, National Chemical Laboratory, Pune was an old building given a fresh spring touch with so many flowering plants arranged in and out of building. Somewhere I could 'dream' of my Care4Nature office with clay walls and flowers spreading a fire of colours. The step back into the arena of dreams made the visit a bliss to me even before I actually experienced the enthralling Violin.

I was to loose all the sense of chemical smells emanating from laboratories soon with growth of thick woods around me, canopies eclipsing the glowing Sun, a river flowing with rhythm of 'Mrudangam' and giggling over rocks with trebles of 'Ghatam' . I was to receive a gift of another medium of expression, another medium of empathizing expressions. When T. N. Krishna started playing, the sound of violin overwhelmed me so much that my senses floated above the notes. The music spilled stories inside my closed eyelids, spilled emotions, induced contemplation, induced aroma. The piece of fiction I have written above, I witnessed it with vigour that almost splashed the blood-spill on my face.

Hats off to the master of Violin & thanks to Chaithra. Though I doubt she will accept this violent foreground to Carnatic Raaga of Hamswadhvani's background.

Alice Richman

2010-01-11T12:56:00.000-08:00

I have gone to the Pune University Garden many a times in daytime but did not see this spot somehow - though I knew about it. The garden is known as 'Alice Garden'. I took this photo from someone else's blog and its taken in the day time. If its this shady in daytime, imagine at night! :) It is a nicely wooded place.

Today before an hour at 1.30 am of 12th of January, me and my roommate Abhijit went to Alice's grave. It was a cool experience to go to a place of where I have heard spooky stories. I had heard that Alice's ghost is seen riding a white horse, wearing a white gown in the morning at 5.00 from my old place's roommate Prakash Ratan to whom it was told by a lady in English Dept.

Quotes from my mail to Aanchal: We jumped over the garden gate... saved our sight from the watchmen and went to the alice's grave...we once felt scared that something was coming from the bushes, the branches creaked and owls squeaked... there was a brook right behind the bushes which made all sort of noises..

Though I did not see any ghost but I felt spooky because of the place being dark and branches creaking at the middle of night. And we were not supposed to be seen as well so hiding behind bushes whenever a vehicle would pass. May be some fool would see us roaming in night in white light of the lamp and pee in his pants or the watchman would catch us and thrash :) .

The grave had this written on it:

BORN MELROSE SOUTH AUSTRALIA NOVEMBER 13 1856
AND DIED AT THIS SPOT OF CHOLERA AT THIS VERY SPOT JANUARY 1886

It was a unique experience to chronicle in my life at Pune. I am feeling sad that its coming to an end in a few months now.

Here's an extract from an Indian Express article I found online. Enjoy:

At day time it is the most frequented place by students, but come nightfall, no one wants to be around this solitary grave. With no street lamps, the tall tamarind and neem trees seem more daunting than ever.

It is a story that has its origins in the days of the Raj. One version has it that Alice Richman, daughter of a prominent British official, committed suicide post an unfulfilled love story, and now roams the graves at night in a translucent white fabric. According to the PRO of the university, Gangadhar Jangamwal, who rubbishes all the rumours, the story traces back to Jan 14, 1882. He says, “26-year-old Alice, daughter of former British governor Richman was horse riding in the garden, when she fell down and died.”

But the inscription on the grave tells another story — Born at Melrose, 14 January 1856 , South Australia, Died here of cholera - 13 November, 1882.

“I have been studying here for four years but I have never seen or heard anything. Though I will not deny the fact that I have heard tales from people about the place being haunted,” says Sudhakar Jadhav, a PhD student.

I tried looking online for names of Governors but did not do extensive research. Will buy Pune Uni History booklet from the publication dept soon. Its for 150 bucks but I guess a nice souvenir. Then may be add to this blog entry in a comment or something. :)

2009-10-22T23:27:00.000-07:00

There are so many things I just don't understand, neither have a clue on how to tackle them. They swarm my eyes in light, in darkness. Making me wonder if all my intellectual ambitions will end up with my bone's ashes, mocking the days and nights walking alone. Yet I go on walking, knowing nothing else to do with all my cowardice...

(c) hp.

2009-10-12T23:21:00.000-07:00

BaaLak maara mann nu, jhapti ariso jove,
Thaake toy aas raakhe, kyaarek to peeth dekhase...

BaaLak maara mann nu, aabh taraf haath felave,
Khenchaay toy aas raakhe, kyaarek to taarlo haath ma aavse...

BaaLak maara mann nu, paankh felavi daud lagaave,
Haanfe toy aas raakhe, kyaarek to oonchu udaase...

BaaLak maara mann nu, aas raakhe bhoinye,
Ghasdai ne melu thaay toy aas raakhe, kyaarek to swapna hakikat thaase...

BaaLak maara mann nu...

-bhuriyo.

(c)hp.

Have kehvu pade 'aas raakhtu' 'daud lagaavtu'...

Will put up in Guj Script later.

2009-10-10T23:20:00.000-07:00

Handcrafted dreamy universe,
With delicately carved intricacies,
And chiselled dear faces,
Seldom cracks but often shatters like a glass wine in hand.

(c) hp.

2009-10-09T23:16:00.001-07:00

Ateet na aanand ni mithaas,
Ke pachhi hoy suka aansuo nu mithu.
Hoy faatela sambandho ni chhaas,
Ke junu chatpat sapnu hoy dithu...

Aaj ni rasoi ma bhabhravi lo,
Je bhaave te masaliya ma,
Ne baaki bhandukiya ma raakhi lo.

- bhuriyo

(c) hp.

Later in Guj Script

2009-10-09T12:15:00.000-07:00

तितलिया भी नाचती है आगे पिछे अब तो,

सोचती है गुलाबी महेक कैसे इस गेंदे के फूल में |

पर उन्हें क्या मालूम के हम एक सुस्त कली हुआ करते थे,

जब तक आपका हुस्न ना बसा था इस ज़हेन में |

- हर्षल पंडया .

2009-10-07T14:12:00.000-07:00

વર્સાદ વિતી ગયો તોય મન મારુ વરસે,
તુ પયમાનો પીવડાવી ગઈ તોય મોંહ તરસે.

-હર્ષલ પંડ્યા.

बारीश बीत गई फिर भी मन मेरा बरसे,
तु पेयमाना पीला गई फिर भी मुँह तरसे |

-हर्षल पंडया.

અથાક પ્રયાસો કર્યા

2009-10-06T14:08:00.000-07:00

દુનિયા ના સ્મિત પર છે રંગો ની ભરમાર,
તાર્લાઓ ચમકી ઉઠ્યા ને ધર્તી જીવન-ભાર.
અથાક પ્રયાસો કર્યા તોય જળ્યે ન જળ્યો,
એક પણ ખુણો વિના ઉમંગ અપાર.

દરેક નવી પળે નવા જીવન નો હાહાકાર,
વેદનાઓ સમેટીયે તો બને ચિત્રહાર.
અથાક પ્રયાસો કર્યા તોય જળ્યે ન જળી,
એક પણ પળ વિના કોઇ સાર.

ચોક્કસ લાગે છે છુપાઈ છે ક્યાંક,
ઇશ્વર ના બદ્લે માયાઓ હજાર.

-હર્ષલ પંડયા.

खुदा किसी और को बनाओ

2009-09-28T14:12:00.000-07:00

ज़ालीम है तनहाई जो,
थोड़ा कुछ तो गुनगुनाओ|

बेराज़ है ज़िन्दगी जो,
ना-मालूम का ज़ीक्र ले आओ|

वारदात है कायनात जो,
वजह किसी और से जताओ|

मुझे भी ईमान चाहिए,
खुदा किसी और को बनाओ|

-हर्षल पंड्या.

Pl excuse me for spelling errors while typing in hindi.

Zaalim hai tanhayee jo,
Thoda kuch toh gungunao.

Beraaz hai zindagi jo,
Na-maloom ka zikr le aao.

Waardaat hai kaainaat jo,
Wajaah kisi aur se jatao.

Mujhe bhi imaan chaahiye,
Khuda kisi aur ko banao.

-Hershal Pandya.
28/9/09.

Thanks to Max Babi for tearing off my immature(relatively) lines. I hope he likes this. Thanks to Ashika Vyas and Shilpa Bhatt/Desai too.

First Urdu Creation

2009-09-28T14:01:00.000-07:00

बडी शीद्दत से याद किया है आपको,
जब आपके लफ्ज़ उभर आए ज़बान पर|

बड़ी मशक्कत से भुलाया है आपको,
जब आपकी खामोशी छा गई ज़हेन पर|

अब जो भी गुल खिलाए हक़ीकत का कारवाँ,
जो आँखों में ना देखा आपने,
होठों पर ला बताएँगे, हम बहाया|

-हर्षल पंड्या.

Pl excuse me for spelling errors while typing in hindi.

Badi shiddat se yaad kiya hai aapko,
Jab aapke labz ubhar aaye jabaan par.

Badi mashakkat se bhoolaya hai aapko,
Jab aapki khamoshi chha gayi zehen par.

Ab jo bhi gul khilaayein hakikat ka kaarvaan,
Jo aankhon mein na dekha aapne,
Hotho par la bataayenge, hum behaya.

-Hershal Pandya.

I will like to thank my friends Max Babi, Shilpa Bhatt and Shishir Sankhyayan for helping me perfect this little poem and learn Urdu. And Ashika Vyas and Parul Jain for inspiring me.

वक़्त से लड़ना ही तो ज़िंदगी है

2009-09-12T10:45:00.000-07:00

सदीयो से बहता आ रहा है,

सदीयो तक बहता रहेगा.

वक़्त न जाने अपनी बेकारी में,

हम जैसे कितनो को सताते रहेगा.

मर्ज़ी से जीने में मज़ा भी क्या है,

बह गया वक़्त के साथ तो

जीने में अपना क्या है,

यह ज़ालिम है तभी तो जीना नमकीन है,

वक़्त से लड़ना ही तो ज़िंदगी है.

-hp.

Written on

ખબર કોને છે

2009-09-07T12:18:00.000-07:00

સાંજ પછી સવાર છે,
લાખ પછી કંગાળ.
નિદ્રા પછી જાગ્રત્તા છે,
આંસુ ની ધારે મુસ્કાન.

ખીલે છે કળી પણ
રસ તેનો મૂળમાં છે.
ભલે ખીલી કળી પણ
બળ તેનુ તાપમાં છે,
આત્મા તેનો પાન માં.

સમુદ્ર નો નિરંતર અવાજ,
બાળપણ નું હાસ્ય છે,
વ્રુદ્ધપણા ની કથા,
કે સ્રુષ્ટી નું સંગીત...

કહ્યા કરે વિધ્વાનો પણ,
હકિકત નું અદભુત સત્ય,
તેની ખબર કોને છે?

-હર્ષલ.

2009-09-04T23:40:00.000-07:00

થયા કરે.
હ્રદય કેટલુ ખુશ રહે,
એને પણ પેટ દુખે હસી-હસી ને.
ક્યારેક તો બિચારુ એ પણ રોવે,
વિના કારણ તો ભલે,
એ પણ આંસુ મા ભાર ઉતારે.

થયા કરે,
રોજ નવી સવાર,
થયા કરે.

-હર્ષલ

Nothing.

2009-08-29T13:18:00.000-07:00

Nothing can convince me,

Of a better sight than

Green forest carpet after rains,

Sparkling million droplets.

Nothing can rob me,

Of my heart better than

Her eyes gleaming after a joke,

Joy bouncing in her laugher.

Nothing can pause me,

Ere destination better than

A lemon butterfly across hedge,

Flapping in a broad smile.

Nothing can take me,

On a flight better than

Kites swirling in skies azure,

Whirling a spiral lullaby.

Nothing...Absolutely nothing.

Excerpt from 'Lust For Life' by Irving Stone - Vincent Van Gogh's Biography

2009-07-22T14:35:00.000-07:00

"At this, Gaugin. The fields that push up the corn, and the water that rushes down the ravine, the juice of the grape, and the life of a man as it flows past him, are all one and the same thing. The sole unity of life is in the unity of rhythm. A rhythm to which we all dance: men, apples, ravines, ploughed fields, carts among the corn, houses, horses, and the sun. The stuff that is in you, Gaugin, will pound through a grape tomorrow, because you and a grape are one. When I paint a peasant labouring in the field, I want people to feel the peasant flowing into the soil, just as the corn does and the soil flowing up into the peasant. I want them to feel the sun pouring into the peasant, into the field, into corn, the plough, and the horses, just as they all pour back into the sun. When you begin to feel the universal rhythm in which everything on earth moves, you begin to understand life. That alone is God."

When...

2009-07-12T10:48:00.000-07:00

When skies call you horizon,
When seas call you shore.
When birds sing for you,
When wolves wag for you.
When eyes search for you,
When atheists pray for you.
When cupids call you bow,
When potters call you wheel.
When nights dream of you,
When days gasp for you.
When wind blows for you,
When water flows for you.
When planets wander for you,
When novae burst for you.
When painters call you muse,
When poets write for you.
When lands crack for you,
When forests rustle for you.
Who am I to tell?
That I do need you.

- hp.

ખબર કોને છે

2009-07-09T10:54:00.001-07:00

2009-07-04T13:03:00.000-07:00

જે જાગ્યો નથી તેને શુ કિમ્મત છે રાતની,
જે જાગ્યો નથી તેને શુ કિમ્મત સવારની,
જાગ્રણ છે તો છે સજાગ્તા,
દિવો ચમકે અંધારે પ્રટક્તા.

-હર્ષલ.

2009-06-16T15:25:00.000-07:00

When I watch films, it takes me to a wonder land. A place where everything is plausible, a fresh perspective to many things, where something non conventional blooms.

I love films. The last film that has made a big impression on me is Notting Hill. Nothing is very extra ordinary about it. It is simple story and it is that simplicity that attracts me. Away from subtlety with infatuating simple face and suffocating complexity.

I have always wondered why do I not live a life common as everyone else, out of the want to be accepted respectfully by the society. Now that I have seen the society for the wise years of my life, I don't want to be a part of it. A role of guest in a society would suit me perfectly. Because with a society, comes notions which are pre-conceived and meant to be adhered to. It is basically a coming together of people with similar ideals and ideals mean conventions. No, I am better off without conventions and norms.

Notting Hill also has a nice simple romance. It is sweet. And Julia Roberts is beautiful as ever. Hugh Grant looks lost like ever.

And its soundtracks are melodious. Especially 'She' performed by Elvis Costello. And ofcourse, it has the evergreen 'When you say nothing at all' by Ronan Keating.

-------------------------

Soundtrack: Notting Hill

Title: She - Elvis Costello

She

may be the face I can't forget

a trace of pleasure I regret

may be my treasure or the price I have to pay

She

may be the song that Solomon sings

may be the chill that autumn brings

my be a hundred tearful things

within the measure of the day.

She

may be the beauty or the beast

may be the famine or the feast

may turn each day into heaven or a hell

She

may be the mirror of my dreams

a smile reflected in a stream

she may not be what she may seem

inside as shell

She

who always seems so happy 'n proud

who's eyes can be so private and so proud

no one's allowed to see them when they cry

She

may be the love that cannot hope to last

may come to me from shadows of the past

that I remember till the day I die

She

may be the reason I survive

the why and where for I'm alive

the one I'll care for through the rough and rainy years

I'll take her laughter and her tears

and make them all my souvenirs

for where she goes I got to be

the meaning of my life is

She

She, oh.. She...

La, la, la, la...

2009-06-13T13:38:00.000-07:00

Sitting before my computer and the television, I wonder where have these all years gone since I used to write unexpectant of a critic. In a race to excel in pre-conceived forms and norms, do I lose myself? I did. Or did I not?

I watched a lovely movie today, 'Once'. Music is good.

'Take this sinking boat,

And point it home,

We've still got time.

Raise your hopeful voice,

You have a choice

You've made it now'

La, la , la , la...

Haunted Cities

2009-06-06T13:10:00.000-07:00

Every leaf's glitter flashes beauty,
A beauty only seen in children.
Naked lady of the forest shines,
Shines like a rare muse in urban.
Crocodiles lie on banks lazy,
Lazy unlike monday mornings.
Leopard makes the monkeys hoot,
Hoot like parliament made to music.
Brooks and wind decorate silence,
Silence murdered by machines.

To soul, each forest element soothes,
Soothes like lullaby sung by mother.
And the city seems a haunted place,
A place unfortunately called home.

--------------------------------------

Micheline: cities.. cities.. I'm lucky to live in the mountains despite all the curiosity of the people, the loneliness..and the cold winters..

me: You are extremely fortunate. May you be blessed forever.

jon: hmm that's true, but i like the vibrant city life.

jan: excellent! but awww, city life isn't tht bad. the twinkling lights, the hustle and bustle, the smoothly flowing traffic (disregarding the traffic jams. lol)... it has a beautiful rhythm of its own.

jill: useless..city life is amazing..even for you trust me..you can sit at a cafe on the main road all day long..sipping coffee and observing people..writing poems or painting!

lilly: Nice poem....but really cities are not so bad. Both the city and countryside can bring loneliness and peace if u want. In the city there is too much happening but u can find peace their within urself if u truly want to...it all depends on the details u want and don't want to observe and hear...and in the countryside where there is much less happening to truly find peace the beautiful environment can only do so much..in the end u have to look inside urself to get peace and quiet...

--------------------------------------

me:

my dear,

i do not know in which city do you stay. i cannot stop hearing motor or vacuum cleaner or drill or hammering throughout or air conditioning. and i haven't yet found an inspiring person in city who knows things other than making money in an inspiring way.

city people, isha & chirag know about ahmedabad, are totally hostile and banging door on your face kinds -unless! they have not very long back come from some town. and same applies to people of pune. i am yet to explore other cities. pune is way down the drain than a'bad.

no one even gives a ride in cities. just do this experiment, go and raise a thumb on a city lane. and do the same in some rural place. see where you get a lift more often.

forest is soothing. not filled with hypocrites and societies that make laws and declare outlaws without having a need to advertise. parliaments are run for a record no. of less days where corrupt politicians tag a rope saving their own ass. forgetting about the people.

have you ever been to a forest? a real forest? not with your earplugs in? where you saw herds of deer running? saw birds hopping around - not the usual crows but various birds...

heard the river flow? did you experience that silence? drank the water from brook like a cat - thinking scores of animals must be doing so up or down the lane? hygiene will come to your mind - it is corruption. you are distanced from nature - the source of everything. the soul of universe. running behind vanity causes of making a house and working for a good pay or some good company. dignity, esteem, ego.

my dear,

go out and explore more world. explore and not remain a silly tourist with tonnes of sunscreen on. feel it. absorb it.

Cities are not bad by definition. They become eventually - for a free soul. One cannot fly. There is no nature around. Its all concrete and steel. Cineplexes, malls, bowling alleys.

The truth is, man finds amusement in whatever circumstances. There is certainly not an absolute truth, but I do not deny existence of a higher one.

Sitting in a cafetaria, sipping coffee made aromatic using some artificial flavours tingling your toungue. Ask your senses if they remember the fragrance of frangipani, parijat, wet moss on stones around lake, rotting fish near sea front, birds feathers;if they remember the taste of raw potato, gulmohar flowers, tulsi, ajmaein leaves.

The aesthetic value of colourful clothes keeps importance in a grey and glassed city. In natural surrounding, it is of least concern. Camouflage is more important, the 'humanly' clothing makes the wildlife alert - as if they are aware of 'humanly' diseases.

It is an infected, contagious world of society that man is carrying forward in time today. It was a survival tool for the initial days in the wild and now only a pretence for all the evil to hide behind.

Man would not show his real self. And hence addiction to a platform like facebook. Show what you wish and pretend what you will.

Yes, cities metaphor the human - crowd psychology wherein an individual loses his individuality and remains as a pretentious loser waving to the precious time he lost in complying with societal norms and gleaming like a politician's smile.

These are Not aimed at anybody. Ideas are not up for selling, I do not mind if you buy them.

I may not sound complete - I am not, here. Does not imply that the projection is not of reality.

I do not deny enjoying the city values. Do not deny that I once thought of entering fashion design. And the art still fascinates me. I watch ftv with intentions different than most men, if that implies something.

But it is freedom, joy and liberty to be yourself. You can dance like crazy with music buzzing your mind and not care who thinks what about you. Some will say one can do that in city as well but the same some cannot disagree that the society will look at you like some crazy nut.

When I say that city smothers, it is not about the place as much is about the people who inhabit it. It is smothering. Laws are passed over one's sexuality, transsexuals have suffered since ages and now that homosexuals have come out, they are being oppressed. Children from my neighbourhood come and whisper 'sexy' 'kiss' in each other's ears. Where have they lost their childhood and innocence? Whom will you call responsible? I do not see them cherish fantasies about being kings or princesses or or wonder how children come to this world?

It is love that goes missing when parents work all day and return late evenings. Then take children to see unsuitable movies to compensate.

Home in apartments and multistoreyed buildings, do they provide same amount of warmth? The studio apartments, so artificial - good to dine in but to live in them gives nausea.

There is just so much that the human civilization is losing, values, culture, diversity, love, in the race to become metropolitan.

But who is Hershal to pass a judgement on the kind of lives that people prefer to live? Everyone is capable of themselves and chooses their lives. Are they not? They are. Krishna would not have been same if Devki would have reared him. Isha, we talked about altruism. And is it in blood or the environment a person grows up in? I stressed it then and even now, it is the surrounding.

And moreover the world is losing its balance. I always thought I knew how bad all this climate change is.

I started working on a small problem of Ozone concentration increase in urban regions and believe me, its worse than any one here can guess - in a non fictitious way.

Enough of blabbering. I wonder if anyone will read this thing through.

The truth is, we are an integral part of nature. The more we distance from it, more we start getting addicted to faclities and technologies of the modern world, worse it is going to be. Most live an ant life. Not knowing where they come from and where they are headed. And those who think they belong to the intellectuals class of people should understand the reality.

My words may have fallen on deaf ears or I may be blind to realize the world in its true urbanity. But things will never be clearer unless one discovers things for himself.

Soft Spoken

2009-04-11T14:11:00.001-07:00

The rhythmic coppersmith barbet,
And crawlers in the leafy carpet.
The bending branches creak,
As wind sweeps the dense teak.
The faraway calls of deer,
Glistening the pebbles flows water, clear.

Like the forest, my dear muse,
I clear my thoughts to listen to you.

I like it

2009-03-30T11:20:00.000-07:00

When the fragment of imagination,
When it brings on a face, an animation,
The lifeless enlivened. I like it.

When it feels lonely,scared,
When I look at people close, closed,
The pillow hug. I like it.

When wanting to be wished,
When no one does, can't be obliged,
The bird calls. I like it.

When overthrown by joy, feeling blessed,
When I cannot share it, though obsessed,
The walls listen. I like it.

Mind is a beautiful thing of matter,
Yet of substance and soul.

- hp.

Longing

2009-03-22T11:37:00.000-07:00

Silence ruled the moment
We were close.
Glitter in your eyes,
Told me you were mine,
Least for then.

You were the creature,
Me the wet soil.
That ephemeral episode,
Left an eternal trail
Of affectionate feelings.

You walk free, but
It hasn't rained for me,
Perhaps never will.

I long to see your eyes
Again glitter as they did.
I am waiting at the threshold.

(c) HP.

Written on behalf of a one-of-a-kind friend.

Siesta

2009-03-13T15:02:00.000-07:00

As the winter wore away,

Spring thought it was time

To sow some Chrys,

Petunias and Salvias.

The merry sowing time,

The dreams of bloom,

The everyday stare,

At the soil for a sprout.

Sprouts brought festive

Moods to the mind.

Hopes took a form

As buds were born.

The summer uninvited,

Rose the scorching sun.

Siesta swept the noons

While buds borne the burns.

The zest to till the soil,

To dream of bloom,

Sherbet in wine glass

Has intoxicated it off.

And the buds scream,

Painting their plight.

A pending feeling says,

Ice would taste better.

Spiritly

2009-03-07T23:00:00.000-08:00

Disconnected,

Aimless,

At times, I am anxious.

Baffled by my form.

Doodles

2009-02-25T21:11:00.000-08:00

From the Other Side

2009-02-21T09:35:00.000-08:00

Unusually plain day it was, with no euphoria, no boredom and no depression either. In the evening, I went to buy milk and as I was walking out of the society lane I heard some peppy not-so-sophisticated music being played really loud. As I took a turn to be on the main street, I saw two gigantic blue lights roaring at me from a distance along with many tiny yellow ones. Curious to know what it was, I wondered if it was a marriage party. Though it was a regular sight back in ahmedabad but quite uncommon in pune.

The music was terribly loud and I saw it was being played on a truck groomed for the occassion in many a lights and headlights were cellophaned blue. The songs they played were peppy and quite the ones that masses would rejoice. Now, its me, a huge opponent of noise pollution and having rather sober choice in music. I was certainly baffled to be not disturbed by the party. Kept walking. Saw two boys one of them,although could not compete with the truck's volume, was very loudly mimicking the lyrics. An old bald man, standing by a scooter - perhaps waiting for someone, was coo-ing his neck like a pigeon blissfully enjoying summer noons on my window sill.

By the time I reached the store and finished my little shopping, the truck and the dancing caravan in front almost reached that building. Yes, indeed it was a marraige party with a truck head pulling something that was made to look like a chariot with two golden thrones in it. When I started walking back to my society, I had this insane urge to jump in that turbanned crowd of men and dance like crazy. It was then that I ideated this blog entry but its three hours later that I am actually writing it.

I came back to my room, feeling happy about having observed something new to chew upon. Sat on my couch cum bed and picked up a book. And zoom! I'm back to myself. The party must have reached the gate of my society and now it felt cacophonous herd of mad people dancing to some cheap and exaggeratingly called vulgar songs. I put on my headphone and started watching some F.R.I.E.N.D.S. to cheer up and let the herd pass. Perhaps its now that I can look at the episode in its entirety that I have the ability, peace and mind to pen it down. While walking, the whole time, I had this weird feeling that everyone around was enjoying the music and some dignified literates were frowning at it. Was nice to be on the other side and not be a dignified frown face for once. :-)

Oblivious

2009-01-08T11:14:00.000-08:00

Close my eyes...

Polished mahagony table,
Cream on a cup cake,
Grassy rug,
The chee of a robin,
An orchard siesta,
Poppy in my veins,
A slow sway,
Collapse in the bed.

I cherish.

- hp.

All is a coffee dream with a twirl of cream...

2008-11-04T11:48:00.000-08:00

She came at the dawn of yawn,
I sing a yellow hello.
Her voice, a bloom in gloom,
Glass heels dance me to trance.
Far away keeps the land of sleep,
All is a coffee dream with a twirl of cream.
(c) Hershal Pandya, 4 October 2008.

Nature's Artefact

2008-11-04T11:43:00.000-08:00

A dry leaf glides to earth,
A lemon butterfly flutters through,
A buddhist monk walks by,
I smile at the nature's artefact.

(c)Hershal Pandya.

A Gypsy's Dog

2008-09-13T09:15:00.000-07:00

'Thundering clouds and rattling windows remind me of being part of a larger life form than my own'

I walk by lanes and highways alike,
Following my master's hike.
Days are jolly and quite a delight,
Under the stars we halt for the night,
Awaiting a new story, awaiting twilight.

Criss-crossing across the country,
Fly by faces of great variety,
Some sole,
Some socializing to shroud their whole.
Some jay walking happy feet,
Some mourning their own defeat.
Its difficult to look at faces so tall,
Amazingly, the dancing feet give it all.

With life like of an indulgent hermit,
And mules for a company,
The barking street dogs do not bother me.

-A Gypsy's Dog
(c) Hershal Pandya.

Debut Couplets in Gujarati

2008-09-13T09:10:00.000-07:00

Megha ni raah ma varsaad na be chhanta,
Gulab ni paankhdi ne saachavta kaanta,
Ekalti chaal ma pakshi na geet,
Aasha na hoy tyan thi sneh ane preet.
Saghda anubhavo ni jem laad aape,
Aapni yaad ne aapna geet.
(c) Hershal Pandya.

Aladdin nu kalin ne nrutyangana nagin,
Sivaji ni top ne treeji aankh no prakop,
Vichaar bhramand maa bhatkaay
Ane mann tya achkaay...
Ke maari katha nu mulya ketlu?
(c) Hershal Pandya.

Transcreation:
Aladdin's carpet, wordsworth's daffodils,
Snake charmers and Achilles' heel...
They morph my perception with such spontaneity,
Makes me pause and wonder
Upon the worth of my stories.
(c) Hershal Pandya.

Smiles Veil

2008-05-26T04:30:00.000-07:00

The first thing that captured my attention on saturday morning was this picture in the newspaper. Father and son are re-united after a year. Boy has witnessed his mother's murder by the lover with whom she had eloped. But who can tell from the picture? I can look at it everyday and still be unquenched.

Fascinations Elude

2008-05-26T04:21:00.001-07:00

Potraits, fresh curtains, ethnics adorning white walls,
Daisies in the basket and coffee in a rusty ceramic,
Windows glimpsing greens, hoppers and a few men,
Seductive mornings, light shower, gentle scent and crisp clothing,
Noons humming with work,
Evenings glowing in amber and candles,
Starry nights pondering on fascinations that elude,
Slumber in pursuit of dreams.

(c) Hershal Pandya, 2008.

Adalaj Ni Vav (Stepwell of Adalaj)

2008-04-21T12:08:00.000-07:00

I visited the Adalaj Stepwell, one of the very few archaelogical sites preserved in and around Ahmedabad.

When I photographed the site, I was more into capturing the intricate designs carved on the walls and the symmetry flaunted by the monument.

What puzzles me is the motive of creating such royal stepwell with so many galleries. I'm sure it wasn't meant only for the purpose of water storage.

Vivi - my pet

2008-01-19T11:57:00.001-08:00

Check out this link

http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.jsp?articleId=281474977234220

THANKS.

My Garden

2007-12-25T10:28:00.001-08:00

Hello All,

Have a look at my garden plants. They all wanted to say a 'Hii' to my visitors.

Overview from inside the door.
My good old cactus.
Button Plant

Dunno the name, but it isnt Adenium(or desert rose)
Unknown2
Unknown3, flowers red grows even by planting a single leaf stem.
Unkown4, purple crawler (new one on terrace)

Adenium Obesum (Desert Rose).... gem of my garden.

Unkown5,

Unkown6

Pls. help me get the names to the unkown.

Thank you.

Guest Blogger - Vani

2007-09-29T12:46:00.000-07:00

Monday, September 24, 2007

Masked Man

There he was in the middle of the stage
Wearing a mask, jumping around.
For he was a clown, always smiling
Hiding all that went on inside

He jumped, he laughed, he toppled, he ran,
He did what they wanted, for he was what he was...just a clown
His expression, oh so funny!
Showed a lot, yet revealed so little
People thought him happy, as he made everyone laugh
What was inside, always hidden
for he was a masked man.

He had to make people feel good, for he was a clown
It mattered not what he felt inside?
For as they say, he was only a clown.
One who makes a fool of himself, as he fools everyone else around.

-----
http://vanismusing.blogspot.com/

A blurt

2007-09-28T11:09:00.000-07:00

May it not be orchids but I'm glad to see some daffodils.
May it not be a hearty laugh but I'm glad to have a smile.

Several moments come every day since sometime when I feel good about myself. Probably never before I have been so yearning to regain my previous self. Anyways... I wanted to blurt out something on attitude, something on fundamentalism and something on materialism. Did I forget idealism? May be not, may be its same as fundamentalism. Anyways...

When my good friend, who pursues biochemistry, asked me if she would enjoy the nanoscience lecture the other day, I suggested her not to waste her time like me. I, being a physics student, had to attend the lecture for socialising sake. But it so turned out that the presentation was awesome and at one moment, I was considering it as a good career option. Every other speaker I had heard before, speaking about nanoscience, had made it look a dreary and dull subject; the reason of which I now rule out was excessive use of jargons and other subject specific terminology which have not come under the fascinating projector of media. And more importantly, the disablity of bringing complex ideas in a lucid form understandable to a layman.

And then I realise, while still being in the hall, that it is all about attitude. Something that I had realized long before and forgotten. Now that I have re-realized it, I'm still not in perfect harmony with the idea as I was before; I have my hopes. Attitude is the million dollar word, a divine wine that elates you to a state where everything looks beautiful and brings subtle simplicity in any other occurence around you.

Its all in your eyes.

is my favourite quote.

I dont think this blurt has been so fluent but blurts are not meant to be. Are they? :-)

September Breeze

2007-09-14T11:39:00.000-07:00

As I arrive at the day,
From where it all started,
Bland or dramatic,
Sweet or sour,
I search for the right word,
That dares describe my journey.

I stand on the terrace,
Facing north star,
As if looking for a direction.

Smile my tear drenched lips,
Bouts of laughter within weeps.

All is same every year,
As I stand on the terrace,
Facing north star,
Looking for a direction,
Feeling, the September breeze.

The Storm

2007-09-09T05:22:00.000-07:00

A village resided sleepily on shore,
Merrily vivacious, some several hundred doors.
Baby dreams it seemed, every belly bore.

Sea was beautiful, tranquil, inspiring,
It was a giant, that roared by whispering.

A pack of men, A pack of dreams,
Build and board, a shack on streams.
A sail , a mast and sail into cyan,
Adventurous,joyous and sickening it can.(be)

Clouds thicken, lightnings quicken,
Violent waves toss the vessel,
"We are men, we're not chicken!
Oh, meek storm! we'll win by wrestle."

Optimism on a high,
All swelled chests, with a short sigh.
'Power of spoken words', they say,
'Never neigh a nay'.

Salty sea and sweat,
Torture the lesions,
For months they tolerate,
Awaiting calm season.

A speck of heat on the dead eyes,
A ray of sun, a flood of light,
Wrecked ship, open skies,
Dreams all flooded, left no might.

Erected the mast, patched the sail,
Lied on the shore,
Few skeletons, few pale.

"What is life?"
Cried all in chorus,
Scared of death and of its horrors.

Nostalgia stings these days....its all so blue

2007-07-30T08:13:00.000-07:00

Just a day off from worries,
When I went koba, planting trees.
Encouraging the new lasses and lads,
Be eco-friendly and use TM launching pad.

Jeevantirth, Koba peaceful and soothing,
Green and chirping environment tranquilized me.

Hours passed as if seconds.

Time to leave,
I walk out of gate,
Nostalgia stinging.

Feeling like I used to,
Going to school after weekends,
Or after summer break,
Or when homework not done.

I wanted someone to ask me to stay there,
Just for a few more days.

Story of a gardener...1

2007-07-23T11:03:00.001-07:00

Come my listeners,
Listen to the story of this gardener
And to the agonies of his garden.

Blossomed thoughts,
Enlivened spirits,
Took days by the storm
And I plant a few.

Mauvy with leaves so mauve,
Flapping tenderly along sweet breeze.
She bathed rain with innocence,
I loved her so..., she hugged me so...
Her touch so soft, so divine!
Wish I was a tree and she on me, a vine.

Thanks Saloni, I love you. I'll continue the story later. I'll go and see the agonizing survivors... lots of thanks....for inducing me to write, making me realize how much I miss my Mauvy.

Envies to the believer...

2007-07-23T10:41:00.000-07:00

A belief so crept up,
I need no philosophy.
I need no fear,
Feeble be reasons-to shed a tear.
A cloud so grey,
Be no gloomier than sun's ray.

All time all to myself,
Never feel defeated,
Ample of time,
Ample of time!

Day spent means one less left to go,
An hour wasted - mammothian sacrifice to laze,
Almighty's religious seed if I sow,
I dissolve all haze.

Oh, I am so eager to see it sprout,
Only if I get a bean...

I sulk

2007-07-13T06:33:00.000-07:00

I get up, I sulk, (radio) I dance, I bathe, I sulk, (physics lecture) I like it, I sulk, I see besties, I crack a joke, I sulk, I get money, I sulk, I go for a movie, I sulk, I go to sleep, I sulk, I sulk, I sulk, I sulk, I get up, I sulk.

Walking in my own shoes...

2007-05-27T08:15:00.000-07:00

Some you gain, some you lose....

Its a matter of nostalgia...
I made myself some shoes...

Dream-crafted pair,
I leaped like a rabbit in air.
Passion filled my nerves,
I anticipated curves.

Once upon a time...
Fate rang my haunting chime.
(now)
Fear engulfed,
I sleep crumbled.

When I see my shoes,
I see my popped up toes.
And my flesh has shrunk,
My shoes are more like a trunk.

For rain, I yearn.

Hoping it'll flood away
My tears; keep them at bay.

I yearn passion, I yearn dreams.
I yearn tranquility, I yearn and I yearn...

appreciation not recognition

2007-03-29T12:26:00.001-07:00

I was riding back home tonight and as usual, the accelerator accelerated my contemplation.... once my contemplation got me into deep trouble when i hit a standing rickhsaw, anyways!

I feel that in one's life (atleast mine), appreciation matters a lot, it does!

I was watching this stupid awards function about a month back, there was this lady reema bharadwaj (sorry miss! if i messed up ur name...whats imp is what follows).... she collected the trophy for best female playback singer and said " my ego says that i dont work for awards and this piece of metal doesnt matter to me... but my heart says that this pie of appreciation means a lot to me and i'm nervous enough to say a word more..."

This was the only part I liked in that full two hours i wasted before the idiot box.

I can see another hershal standing before me and saying that this article is all trash! because appreciation and recognition are one and the same things... (ofcourse! i dont mean synonymous)

but recognition is to do with praising your success and appreciation is to do with giving an encouraging word looking at a person's effort...

i think i've reached the parking of my apartment and i slide in by the gap , a goodly parked car has kept for the purpose...

"be the change you wish to see in the world" - gandhian words resonate!

there are some pages lying on the floor.... printed on one side and crooked , human figures drawn with a pink crayon on the other side....(the troupe of kids in my apartment,,,,ah! god bless them not to grow up like their parents)

okay.... so i picked up one of them... and wrote "thanks for good parking :-) "! and made the perfect use of windshield wiper.

SwIfT SeAsOns

2007-03-11T10:24:00.000-07:00

Seasons drop and lift,
With pace so swift.
A moment of tear,
Another filled of cheer.
Then for days I sulk,
Followed by glories in bulk.
As I stand on the shore,
Time flows,my awe soars.

Mood Swings , Wish to be a child again

2007-03-09T06:08:00.000-08:00

Pale is my skin,
Which used to be light,
Surrounding the wounds within
Sleeves, guarding them from sunlight.

For sunlight burns my blood,
That floweth upon the wound,
Though it will clot-heal the flood,
I fear the onlooker's sound?

Someone ripped my sleeves apart,
Exposing the darks I hid
From eyes none other than mine. Heart
Still pounds hard, wishing I myself should have slid.

Today as I hear a child cry,
Envies my heart, those tears
That roll on cheeks-pulled wry,
Inviting slumber and streaming fears.

Wish to be a child again
And cry like a tap,
Whenever inflicted with pain.
And hide my face in mother's lap.

Those folds in her garments,
Were so soothing, I realise.
Taking away torments,
Saving me of condolences(most of them lies).

A parable I protagonised,
Still my hands pull out sleeves,
Over wounds that have arised,
A ripper is blessed, though the ripping peeves.

Reliving Past - 8th October 2006

2007-03-06T13:08:00.000-08:00

..................................

Had penned this long before... just as its quite realistic, quite nostalgic and quite fictious, i dared not keep this up. I do dare now.

A six year old monstrous, innocent boy and his strict, loving mother.
Its late in the night, kitchen's winding awaits arrival of father.
Something happened. Probably, a prank.
He said sorry, mother's anger didn't sank.

For, the prank was devilish and at a wrong time too.
Daddy! the saviour is not home yet, he thought. 'What shall I do?'
He thought of running to neighbour's house,
'Dear Uncle will save me while I play cat and mouse'.
Here comes mummy, tears swell up before the burst
'Surely, I'm gonna get smacked. Let me run-away, first.'
Kid runs out, into the passage, onto the stairs.
His cries burst out and behind, the door gets closed.
Inside, mother is in tears, while watching the mess she is to clear.

Discipline is must for a better future. True is her thinking for her dear(child).
Out he cries, n'bors try hard but tear never dries.
Fright is gone but heavier is guilt,
'Mummy works all day long, I never help a bit?'

Neighbours carry him home, fetch him water, clean his pee.
Clowns all around but his face is far from bearing a glee.
Fright is gone but heavier is guilt.

Atlast, he's tired of weeping and lullabies make him sleep,
Mother opens the door, with sorrows down-deep,
Goes next door, hugs her child who now is in a sound sleep.
Its thirteen years now, my fright is gone but heavier is guilt.

Self Centric Hershal...

2007-03-06T12:55:00.000-08:00

When asked the meaning of my name, I would always answer "I'm defining it!" or to stubborn people, I would say "its the name for planet 'Uranus' or 'Neptune' , i dont care!"

Analysing Hershal.....

"Hersh" in gujarati or hindi or sanskrit would mean happiness

"Hershey" is the chocolate I love & occasionally my pet name.

"Herschel" Williams is the astronomer who discovered Uranus & Pluto

And on my visit to the bookstore last week, I was overjoyed to see

"Hershal" means a Lover, so I am.

is anything else that clicks to your mind? something to do with hershal?

man! m soo self-centric, am I? May be I'm a little eccentric but I am very glad to know that "Hershal" means a Lover.... [:)]

Calvin, Hobbes & my fascination...

2007-03-06T10:33:00.000-08:00

pls. note: i have cropped a lot of posts from the blog. So, only those, which according to me, are good ones are available in the archives....do have a look at the archives.

Its been long since I talked about something to my blog( 'coz i think i hardly get any visitors). Best of my posts are now burried under the burden of 'archives'. sob!sob!sigh!

Anyways, for anyone who might tread this way... Today, after what it might seem like eternity, I want to talk about Calvin , Hobbes & why both these brats enchant me?

I like the way imagination flies in Calvin's mind and the world he creates for himself, a niche, where he's hopping along with his friend Hobbes. He's naughty, chirpy, happy happy, but sometimes quite philosophical and to me, euphemistic.

And words such as 'stinkhead', 'sissy', 'rats!', 'possum stuck in the colar' mingle in my mind all the time and I am so excited to use them when an appropriate opportunity comes.

Whenever its all gloomy, sulky, smokey & cloudy in my mind.... watching Hobbes and Calvin hugging each other soothes me out a lot.(its on my wallpaper & icons,thts been there since a month and half on my desktop where a wallpaper hardly stays for half a day's time)

I remember one such sulky time when I decided to sit and read calvin strips.... It refreshened me up so much that I wrote a poem for my dearest Calvin 'n Hobbes.

Here it goes:

Calvin: The Shocking True Story of the Boy whose Exploits Panicked a Nation

He phones the president,
A-bombs, I want two of them
from your defense department

Else I'll e-mail your nation,
ur click-where you flirt in fashion.
will be up on posters for next election.

the presy is petrified,
calls on his p.a. - who's horrified
they call back calvin, to bargain, in a tone very terrified.

calvin says no bargain,
e-mail forwards are gonna reign,
u r done!, out of office, catch the next train.

hobbes pities presy-the poor,
he wanted to go for an african-safari tour,
he's gonna get thrashed by the first lady for sure.

Presy tries hard, flutters like the last bird on the branch.
calls up the defense, but A-bomb guard is off for brunch
what shall I do now? calvin's taking me for lunch.

Calvin hears some artillery,
Presy's come to snatch that pic, before it goes wirey,
he's about to click,
"Its 8,Calvin! get out of bed and get ready", its his mom in a mood-fiery.

A Limerick & A Shortie

2007-02-25T05:40:00.000-08:00

Jumping, splashing, muddy he goes,
Clowniest on earth and a big red nose,
Slips on banana,
'Coz he dreams of savannah,
Goes around the globe, offering a thornless rose.

--------------------------------

Grown-up griefs,
Weary worries,
Sad sulkies,
Buoy! big bulkies.

Kinda keys,
To telly-tubbies,
Hopping happies,
Innocence is.

have a loop...oops! look.

2007-01-30T05:37:00.000-08:00

Dear Readers,

I am deeply honoured (:D) to present, "Hershal's First
Mathematical Conjecture " :

On a number pad,,,,,0 to 9,

You may start by pressing any two numbers
first....(may be
the same number twice).... e.g. 24 & e.g. 49

and go according to the algorithm(steps) given
below:

1.) add the two numbers pressed/ e.g. 2+4 & e.g. 4+9
2.) press the resulting number(s)/ e.g. 6 & e.g. 13
3.) add the two numbers last pressed/ e.g. 6+4 & e.g. 1+3
4.) press the resulting number(s)/ e.g. 10 & e.g. 4
5.) go to step 3
Conjectures:

I)
You'll eventually be pressing some specific numbers in a
specific sequence again and again....i.e. you are stuck in an infinite
loop.
II)
The loop will be 11,2,3,5,8,13,4,7,11 for all the numbers except for following nine
numbers:
14, 77, 26, 42, 68, 86, 45, 59, 95, for which the loop will be 14,5,9,14

Please note: I've been utmost humble in representing this great conjecture of mine which has a potential of winning Nobel Prize. I hope you will not violate the copyright.

(C) Hershal Pandya, 2007.

11th January 2007

2007-01-11T06:29:00.000-08:00

1787: William Herschel discovered the Uranian moons Titania and Oberon.

(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Titania_(moon))
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oberon_(moon))

....thinking why did i post this? firstly, i m hershal (though i spell it differently) and secondly, "just like that!"

2007-01-10T09:46:00.000-08:00

"On a long journey of human life, faith is the best of companions; it is the best refreshment on the journey; and it is the greatest property."

-Gautam Buddha.