Life is like a flowing river; Are you life, I asked the river; The river did not stop To answer, It just kept flowing; My dejected sigh Failed to ruffle the surface Of the stagnated pool, Tadpoles scurrying merrily; Retorted the frog, On your way, move; The crest of the wave Caught the sunlight, Twinkled; Got your answer, it said, And was gone; The flowing river marched on, Carrying the caricature of My broken reflection, To a place unknown.
I wrote this ghazal in my mother tongue Axomiya (Assamese) yesterday and tried to translate it to Hindi. After a few futile attempts, I gave up as I just could not maintain the rhythm. Today I tried translating it to English and found that it was flowing much more smoothly though I should not call it a ghazal. I tried to follow the rules as closely as I could but not sure if I succeeded. Hence the question mark in the title. I post the poems in the order written.
beware ye all who enter here, words lie around here, not to soothe thy heart.
here desires are stocked, and hunger reigns, quench your thirst at leisure, when the liquor flows.
open thy mind, let the exhilaration course through thy veins, feel the exquisite pain, and see thy heart bleed.
immerse thee in the beauty but beware of the thorns, thou will be challenged, may sometimes be titillated, words may sometimes bite, but they will not curse, they will prick, and they may poke, but they will never incite.
violence is abhorred here, and love dispensed freely, so take what you like, who knows what tomorrow brings, the glaciers recede, and the river dies.
Edwin Alvarez was the kid I wrote about in my poem below today. Please read the request below from his friends trying to arrange for his funeral.
“Hey guys. I believe everyone is aware already that on Friday night there was a boating accident after which our friend Edwin unfortunately passed away. I don’t know however, if everyone is aware that he comes from a very humble family and I don’t know up to what point they relied on Edwin’s income. As far as I know, he was paying for his brother’s education, bootstrapping a business with his dad who works in construction and looking for ways to also help his mother, who is a maid, to find an alternate source of income.
Needless to say this is a life-altering situation that is going to be incredibly difficult for his family to overcome. Eduardo (one of Edwin’s friends who helped us contact his family), started a GoFundMe to help them out with the funeral expenses. Any help will surely be greatly appreciated. Here’s the link https://gf.me/u/ykvm62 . He also mentioned that Oscar (Edwin’s brother) is already aware of this effort.”
I write about current events, my poems are fiction, penned during my flights of imagination. The poem below is based on a tragedy that happened two nights ago. A young soul was called back too soon by the Lord. He was my son’s friend. I never met him but heard about him from my son. A hard working, honest, fun loving friendly guy. These are the times one questions, why? Why? I guess there is no answer.
I did a 8 mile walk along Los Alamitos Creek today. It had been raining here continuously for last few days. Even as I am writing this post, the house windows are being rattled by gusts of wind. The constant drip drip sound of the rain on the roof is putting me to sleep.
Los Alamitos Creek is about eight miles long, originating in the Santa Cruz Mountains and flowing along the eastern side of Almaden Valley. The creek joins the Guadalupe River after Almaden Lake. Los Alamitos Creek Trail along the creek is about ten miles long. The creek becomes a trickle during summer but swells after winter rains. I wanted to see the creek after the rains and was not disappointed.
As I started from my home, it was cloudy with the sun trying to come out from behind the clouds . The hills including Mount Umunhum in the west were hazy, covered in rain clouds. The trail itself is well paved for bicycles, hikers and joggers with small detours that lead from the paved trail to the creek banks in many areas. I entered the trail after walking about a mile from my home.
Winter rains had turned the meadows near the creek bed verdant green. Trees, bare naked in winter, against the green meadows and a darkening sky was a sight to behold.
The creek becomes a trickle during summer but swells after winter rains. I wanted to see the creek after the rains and was not disappointed. It was full with gushing waters and looked like a small river.
As I was about to return, the rains started. It was a slow drizzle at first but became a driving rain by the time I was about a mile from home. Then just as suddenly a huge gust of wind blew the rain away though I could still see the heavy rains on the hills. I hurried home as fast as I could praying my tired legs would not slip on the wet pavements. Though I was extremely tired after the long walk, my heart was full and satisfied.
As I was walking my dog Skooby today morning, a few lines of a poem was churning in my head. Normally I will sit down at my PC or jot down in my mobile whenever such things happen but I did not have recourse to any one of those today. Can’t rely on old memory too much now a days. By the time I sat on my PC, what remained is just one line of the poem. So before I forget, here is to One Liner Wednesday
Race is the cement,
color of skin sand,
concrete to nationality steel,
building the dividing wall of religion
keeping us apart
while the river of love
from time immemorial
flows with the color of blood,
‘Where time is drowned in odour-laden winds And Druid moons, and murmuring of boughs,’ – W.B. Yeats
Rains have stopped long ago
The river shifted
Land under deep water, now
Caked mud and mass of shifting sand
Million moons have passed
Monsoon and drought
Everpresent harrowing floods
Curse of erosion, a
Constantly changing landscape
Amidst the hardship
Life moves on
Chanting and dancing
Music and culture
Cycle of life
Constant struggle of
Destruction and construction
As the dragon to the north
To throttle the life line
Turning enchanting island
To lifeless desert
Simple souls carry on
Oblivious of the fate
That may soon befall
How many more moons
How many more moons
Only time will tell