I wrote the poem below today morning in my mother tongue Axomiya ( Assamese) and translated to English just now. Posting the poems in reverse order here.
Isn’t the year about to end, Why no one has let the bird singing merrily know;
I asked the half-bloomed rosebud Stiffened in the winter cold, No, no one told her, The year is just about to end;
I asked my dog Sitting and lookin out, Did anyone tell him, In a little while The year about to turn; He ignored me and kept looking out, Maybe waiting for winter to end and return of spring, when He can frolick in the cradle of nature again;
I asked nature Are you getting ready to Welcome the new year? Smiled she sadly and said, Will you listen to my pain? I haven’t figured out a way To protect my children from the madness of mankind shouting hoarse about Global warming and climate change; Spare me the additional pollution of your insanity, The false promise of A Happy New Year.
Now the question is how do I say happy new year to my readers after this. The bird sang in my ear and said, yes you can in the least polluted way and my dog Skooby barked his approval with a loud woof. So here it goes my dear readers, A Very Happy New Year 2022 to You.
The damsel waits, For the long winter night to end, and The warm embrace from Her beloved, To make her blossom, With nature’s gift, to Debut her beauty, and Her sweet fragrance, that Will attract her suitor, her Nectar, effervescent, ready to spill.
Alas, the night dragged on, and Cold hand of winter touches with A deathly kiss, as She wraps her tightly to Avoid the chill, Morning comes, cold and wet, Her beloved hides behind the clouds.
First winter showers Run down her cheeks, As she cries for what Could have been, Spring is just a distant dream, This bud won’t bloom, Her gardener won’t come, She cries, as Death looms.
Photo by author in his garden today(12/12/20) morning.
burdened with the thoughts of mundane, mind can not perceive what lies in front, eyes see garbage where roses bloom. alas, such are the ways of life we need to do, to survive. we dream, and then see them shattered, the heart bleeds, while the eyes run dry. we survive. we survive, at what cost?
Stay at home is grinding on. Slowly I am losing count of days and dates. From barely a few infected cases in the beginning of March, the United States of America is now the world leader in number of people infected and deaths. We are in a trajectory to surpass the number of US soldiers who laid down their lives in the Vietnam war. Somewhere the story of make America great again (MAGA) has become the story of make America sick again(MASA). All these acronymsremind me of Indian classical ragas, maga, masa, sani, dhasa etc., etc. Ah, but I digress. Politics is like opium, once one is hooked, difficult to get rid of the bad habit.
Through all these, nature had been busy doing her work. Spring is always beautiful and our valley is at her resplendent best during spring. The medows are verdantand myriad bloomsgrace the area. It seems nature, unburdened by pollution this season, is at her gregarious best. It’s more colorful, more fragrant and more of every adjective one can think of. Ever house frontyards inthe neighborhood been blessed with nature’s beauty. Alas, the owners are all inside locked doors. Not that in general there are people milling around in an American suburb. But normally during spring and summer, weekends and holidays bring people out onto the street. I think Corona or COVID-19 took care of that. However for the brave souls who hazard out of the house to take a stroll, it also offered an uninterrupted opportunity to enjoy the bounty of nature in the neighborhood.
Whenever I am out for a walk with my dog, I have my cell phone with me. The nearly deserted streets invite me literally to stop and smell the roses. And when I am at it, I also try to capture a snapshot to augment my memory. As I was scrolling through my phone gallery today, I realized that I have a large collection of photos of flowers many of which I am not familiar with at all. Now my dear readers, you all may be more knowledgeable than me about flora and fauna of your locality but I have no hesitation of sharing my ignorance. In the process I hope I can brighten your day a little. I promise not to share more than one a day and also promise that all subsequent posts will be brief. So without further adieu, here is the first one.
A clear blue sky
Without a dark night,
For a bright day
There is no appreciation.
Without its spots
Moon won’t be as beautiful,
Road lacking few road bumps,
Journey is uneventful.
A blemish free life
There is no story to tell,
Without the past of Jean Valjean
Les Misérables won’t ring a bell.
Calm sea hides
Deep secrets in its bosom,
Vibrant nature in a moment
Wrecks havoc and destruction.
A world at peace,
Will it be boring?
Thought of violence
To appreciate peace,
It is depressing.
Even without appreciation
Rose will still bloom,
Even if no one looks
Beauty is not doomed.
A bipolar world
May be the norm,
Not an aberration.
Life is a saga
Full of contradictions.