Instances and stupor,
Just a word or a murmer.
Inexplicables and clarifications.
Could it get stranger?or simpler?
Unnerving yes,Euphoric too.
But looking back at a day
Or an hour or a moment...
brings back myraid hues.
I wonder,and wonder some more..
On all that is and was and would be...
Answers are few nd far between...
but do i care...Do i?
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Poetic muse!
Moolah Musing
Tinkle here and a jingle there,
khadi kurtas and fiats there.
In fodder, on tehalka, between scams...
you can spot them anywhere.
Karamabhoomi and dharmabhoomi...
is only money and moolah...
Ask them why and hear
Sabse bada rupaiya.
So they will build,
roads that never last, and bridges
that collapse under their own weights..
and those are not the only hitches.
Heard of him?
the one who dumped bihar..
for fodder and cattle
and education of nine children?
No? Then you must be not an indian...
Or had chosen to sleep through...
when on a night out...
trains were burnt by a minister's crew.
Moolah is all that matters..
under the beds, behind the walls,
and some keep it where they,
attend to nature's calls.
Peace talks and POTA
are tools for image makeovers.
Its a pity that the make up does not last
till the reign is over.
Pali Tripathi
A word or deed
Lost among the leaves,
there was one wrinkled yellow leaf.
Lonely and limp,
it was waiting for release.
And then, hovering up in the air,
there was the most beautiful butterfly ever.
Green and yellow sparkled its feathers
it was a spectacle to be seen
All the leaves and all the flowers
swayed back and forth
Oh dear butterfly....look at me
Am i not the worthiest, for u to sit over?
The yellow leaf, stole a glance,
And awestuck it was too,
But knew only too well that
the butterfly would never sit on it ever.
The butterfly neared a daisy
And then flew away
It looked at a dewy fresh leaf
But then looked away in dismay
At last, ready to fly away
it fluttered its wings.
A pinch of its powdery colours
dropped on the yellow leaf.
The yellow leaf went faint with joy,
When its yellow turned green
All the leaves and all the flowers
could do nothing but envy.
The butterfly was long gone,
But the yellow leaf was joyous still.
Unknowingly the butterfly had bestowed on it
A moment of glory.
Strange are the ways of life,
We know not what is next
A word or deed might crush a hope
Or revive it still.
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ashamed
Ashamed of me I am.
You ask why……
I wrapped my truth in fluffy pretense,
Tied some shreds of sympathy around it…
And lo….there you have…..
My deformed being in a pool of haze.
On my way to desolation,
I grabbed a moment-empty except awareness.
I opened it, and saw myself content.
Brushing it with fingertips
I left a long caress
On that moment.
Yes, I have lost me,
But others have accepted the hollowness.
Yes, I seldom know when I am happy,
But others have accepted my joy.
Yes, I am only a spectator in my life,
But others have accepted my choice.
I wish, I could go in that moment once and become me,
For a moment.
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bread. Pieces
Bread. Pieces. Stale
Spoon. Stained. Half
Plate. Broken.One
Pan.Dry. Empty
Table. Brown. Dirty
Door. Bell. Footsteps
Silence. Fear. Apprehension
Man. Thin. Tatters
Eyes. Cold. Piercing
Gazes. Afraid. Numb
Sound. Loud. Harsh
Child. Tears. Gurgle
Bread. Pieces. Gone
Faces. White. Wounded
Mouths. Pained. Dry
Door. Shut. Bang
Father. Drunk. Asleep
Mother. Deaf. Diseased
Children. Dumb. Broken
Life. Limp. Lost
Love. Desired. Denied.
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Colors.
Water, muddy and cool,
stands still at my feet.
Yellow stretch of fields, and a crimson sunset,
behold my breath.
Green moss covers the thin trees,
and a brown nest lies deserted in its arms.
Air, wet and tired, sways the white ferns,
while a few black crows fly by...
A peasent woman carrying her child passes by..
she wearing a blue sari....the child naked in a dirty sling.
I turn my gaze to my hands buried in the red sand...
A grey ant crawls on a finger, and steps down on land.
I get up with a sigh, wondering,
why is the dusk so colorful today?
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Geeli si, Roothi si, Soti si...
Geeli si, Roothi si, Soti si...
ek gandh aayi hai abhi.
nukkad se, chaurahe se..
ek chitthi aayi hai abhi.
subakti hui, aankhon ko meeche...
girti, ladkhadaati hai wo.
Rukti hai, mudti hai,
Phir chal padti hai wo.
Nirash si kuch, kuch laachar si...
par naa goongi hai naa bahri hai.
Sahmi si kuch, kuch naaraaz si...
par naa thaki hai naa thahri hai.
Mere pairon ke neechey hai jo
mera astitva hai wo.
Mere ungliyon ke galiyaaron se fisli hai jo..
mera hi shrot hai wo.
Kuch aur nahin, mitti hai wo
sajal hai jo, mitti hai wo
baandhey hue hai, mitti hai wo
pankh bhi hai jo, mitti hai wo.
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ghazal
Kashmakash ke sisak se ek tasvir ubhri hai....
apne hi katron mein doobi hui hai.
Saaz siskiyon ka zaari hai abhi...
kuch to khaas hai jo baaqi hai abhi.
haanth faailaayen, kuch boondein ikattha kar loon...
thahroon ek pal, koi muquaam haasil kar loon.
Phir chal padi hoon usi raahe guzar se...
aanch abhi bhi aati hai guzre hue lamhon se.
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I wait….
On the blades of grass
By the river Ganges
Some sand in my hand
And some in my gaze.
I hear chants,
As the dawn breaks.
Saffron robes discarded,
Bodies washed in water.
The morning moon remains
Stubborn silent soothing
Refusing to leave
And surrender before the sun
The air smells pungent
With flowers and incense
It remains quiet for a while,
Then humming walks away
The day crawls through my hair,
Touches my hand
Slips through my body
And falls at my feet
I awake with a start
Trying to feel your presence
Of course you did not come
I was awake all night
But may be you came
And quietly left
May be I slept and lost you
And so tonight I shall come again.
I wipe the sand
From my hair and skirt
My bangles jingle
As two bare feet stop nearby
With hope I look up
To see a hermit
“Anarth”he mumbles
And turns away.
Now I know
You will never come
That you never meant to
But look at me, I still wait
Reaching home, stares question me
In a stupor I murmur
“Leave me alone just for today
For, tonight I shall neither wait nor survive”
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Man on the pavement
“There is a long snake
Yellow dangerous”
“What, where”
“It is dead, but see you must”
And so the sight was witnessed
Amidst amused curious exclamations
A creature, squashed.dead
Was a source of admiration
Dangerous poisonous
Its qualifications
Curiosity pleasure
The ramifications.
The snake I speak of,
Is the man I see on the pavement
Me, you, us, all
The onlookers present
When he was alive
He was a threat
For alms he begged
But of him I was afraid.
Now that he is dead, I walk near him
Smiling, proud unafraid
I can even touch him,
But the raw open wound
Makes the desire dim
And so I learn a lesson,
As I look away.
That I must keep
The man on the pavement at bay.
For, It is poisonous to be poor
Dangerous to be common
Crime to be helpless
And only death…
To be the man on the pavement.
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Motherland
Precious sins, pure misery and a failed truimph.
Is that all i have to offer you...?
No there is more.....
Indifference, still and unyielding
Is also what i can yield to you.
Presence? Life? Attention? ...
Oh you ask for too much.
What do i owe you afterall..
only a name called motherland..
Why do you demand so much?
Why not close your eyes and pretend you are dead?
It might be easier that way
For you and for me.....
Did you say you pine for serenity...?
Well..i am giving you reverence...
By way of saffron flags and lotus...
Why, is that not enough?
You are troubled by clashes you say...
But bloodshed is your past mother.
If you give the slightest nod...
I will make tyranny your destiny.
Let me leave mother,
for greener pastures.
I might not return,
So dont fret for me.
I know i am selfish,
but that is what they have done to me...
asked them why
And they blamed others for it.
Oh dont cry dear...
i dont know why that hurts me too..
Shut your ears...
My echoing footsteps might hurt you more.
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Political Irony
“… I promise a school,
Where your children shall learn.
And a booming business
Where the rest, can earn”
Applause. Thus ended the minister’s speech.
Clad in white, eyes shaded,
He waved at eager faces.
As thin legs and hands on frail structures caressed the car,
The ambassdor sped away.
Another village witnessed the same spectacle,
Which continued in the next ten.
In the scorching heat and the cracking earth,
The minister cultivated hope.And faith.
The car stopped by a railway station,
For the minister to board the train.
To Lucknow he would reach on time,
And then board the flight to Delhi at eight.
The coach was a first class,
So the minister soundly slept.
The fallow land and thirsty mouths,
Were soon forgotton.
At eight, the minister did catch the flght,
And stopped for a shower at his place.
He asked the servant to run his bath
While he made important calls.
The servant did as he was told,
And let the bath run.
Run it did for quarter of an hour
And only then the minister ended the call.
Well fed that the minister was,
Half the water made space for his entrance.
While much spilled from the tub,
He turned on the tap for some more.
“I definitely can have some Parathas,
Before I leave for the meeting”
Thus thinking he grabbed a bite
And left the rest for the bin
The Ambassador was back on the road,
With blue light flashing on its top.
The minister preened in the mirror,
While the driver looked for ways to speed the car.
The minister was now seated in a circle
With ten others of his kind.
There was a leader in the middle
To catch whose attention, all tried.
But the leader had selective hearing
And he heard very few words
Each time, ”vote”, ”election”or “campaign” was uttered
His attention stood to a stand still.
Our friend Minister too started to speak,
“Eleven villages I have toured,
Not a vote I will lose…”
Only that, and the audience was spellbound.
Assured, he began again,
“I promised them food
And I promised them water
If I had to, I would have promised heaven too”
“Oh! You should have looked at their faces,
Charmed they all were,
Dance to my tunes
They all did.”
The leader clapped his hands in glee
And creases on his forehead decreased.
The minister beemed with pride
And the rest envied his streak
The election came and the election went,
Of course, the minister did win.
The victory was a cause to celebrate
So the party started soon.
There was wine and food,
And lot of pretty faces
Many cars were parked at the gate
While others kept coming still.
Outside the gate sat four drivers
Each served the rich and famous.
Alcohol was all that they thought of,
For the rest, they couldn’t care less.
Said one, ”The minister has won,
Let us see what happens in the villages.
It will be fun to watch if he is as bad,
Or worse than the rest”
All the drivers chuckled at that,
For each thought he knew the fate
Elections were a season of promises,
Each promise served as a bait.
Governance is an excuse for comfort
Political irony is the name of the game.
A minister bathes in wine and chokes on food,
And those who paid the bill still pray for water.
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Queer
I squeeze the air...with my hand
pinching the sunlight with the fingers.
Smelling remorse i get up,
to walk into a canon.
Some heads were blown away,
And bodies strewn near..
blood made things colorful,
who said that war was not dear.
A certain God called President,
ordered death for breakfast,
since there were many hungry
the party is still not over.
Destinies are not decided...
they are made.
by people who hold the gun,
and by those who order for them.
Children? well they are to be squashed,
under a lifetime of nightmares,
And if some remain,
they can be baits for more mayhem
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
sannate ki aawaaz hai
sannate ki aawaaz hai,
suni hui si lagti hai.
dhuan to uthta nahin par
siskiyaan sulagti hain.
aaftaab ke dar se
andhere kaa daaman chootta nahin.
khairiyat ke dar se
suqoon ka manzar failtaa nahin
aakhir kab tak yun hi
beraunak chehron ko chipaayenge?
aakhir kab tak yun hi
afsaanon se dil ko bahalaayenge.
AAzaadi kaa lahoo to bachaa nahin
ab kya nichodenge
dairo dharam ki deewaarein hi baaqui hain
kab tak us par taqdeerein phodeinge
Ab to sambhal jaaein ki
raastaa khatma hone ko hai
Ab to ghar laut jaayein ki
darwaazaa band hone ko hai!
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
sitting on a cloud
I floated, on a bloated cloud,
Too full of itself.
I saw the view like a voyer,
Concealed, and enjoying it.
I touched the air, unsure.
It was damp and unsettling.
I tasted a dew drop
Tiny, it melted.
I sniffed the earth
The smell afar but arresting.
I closed my eyes
And felt happiness.
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Soccer-For rhyme and no reason
I thought, nothing could be crazier,
Than a stick, a ball and a bunch of men thrown together.
This was till i witnessed another bunch minus the stick,
And that drove me to the end of my teher
(See, That rhymes :))
On a patch of grass,
I saw some men furiously dribble a ball.
Thats all they did for a while
And then fed up, they hit it with a cry'goal'.
I heard some words,
To know the meaning of which i do not pine.
For instance, there were lines and i could see none
And these had names like Goal, center and touch, with the suffix line.
Worse, they acted like power rangers,
With names like-defenders, midfielders, and sweepers.
The only way they behaved was,
When a guy called referee sounded a beeper.
Yes, i know this will not last forever,
Evil never wins.
The only grudge i have is that,
it is always followed by its kins.
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
That Day
Icy sound, a blue handshake and a blurry quilt.
That is all i remember of that day.
I dont know the color of those words or the feel of a presence.
Only an acknowledgement, that i was there.
Rough lines, a precise movement and a click of shoes...
And then the day ended.
Now, i close my eyes, sitting on a wave of memory...
trying to catch ripples of familiarity...
or may be outlines of an existence...
But none remains.
Remains? Yes..for i know that a while ago it had touched me.
That too has now faded...only a stillness remains.
Turning back, touching a whisper, looking at a shiver,
I submit...to that day, to that moment, to that reality.
Tinkle here and a jingle there,
khadi kurtas and fiats there.
In fodder, on tehalka, between scams...
you can spot them anywhere.
Karamabhoomi and dharmabhoomi...
is only money and moolah...
Ask them why and hear
Sabse bada rupaiya.
So they will build,
roads that never last, and bridges
that collapse under their own weights..
and those are not the only hitches.
Heard of him?
the one who dumped bihar..
for fodder and cattle
and education of nine children?
No? Then you must be not an indian...
Or had chosen to sleep through...
when on a night out...
trains were burnt by a minister's crew.
Moolah is all that matters..
under the beds, behind the walls,
and some keep it where they,
attend to nature's calls.
Peace talks and POTA
are tools for image makeovers.
Its a pity that the make up does not last
till the reign is over.
Pali Tripathi
A word or deed
Lost among the leaves,
there was one wrinkled yellow leaf.
Lonely and limp,
it was waiting for release.
And then, hovering up in the air,
there was the most beautiful butterfly ever.
Green and yellow sparkled its feathers
it was a spectacle to be seen
All the leaves and all the flowers
swayed back and forth
Oh dear butterfly....look at me
Am i not the worthiest, for u to sit over?
The yellow leaf, stole a glance,
And awestuck it was too,
But knew only too well that
the butterfly would never sit on it ever.
The butterfly neared a daisy
And then flew away
It looked at a dewy fresh leaf
But then looked away in dismay
At last, ready to fly away
it fluttered its wings.
A pinch of its powdery colours
dropped on the yellow leaf.
The yellow leaf went faint with joy,
When its yellow turned green
All the leaves and all the flowers
could do nothing but envy.
The butterfly was long gone,
But the yellow leaf was joyous still.
Unknowingly the butterfly had bestowed on it
A moment of glory.
Strange are the ways of life,
We know not what is next
A word or deed might crush a hope
Or revive it still.
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ashamed
Ashamed of me I am.
You ask why……
I wrapped my truth in fluffy pretense,
Tied some shreds of sympathy around it…
And lo….there you have…..
My deformed being in a pool of haze.
On my way to desolation,
I grabbed a moment-empty except awareness.
I opened it, and saw myself content.
Brushing it with fingertips
I left a long caress
On that moment.
Yes, I have lost me,
But others have accepted the hollowness.
Yes, I seldom know when I am happy,
But others have accepted my joy.
Yes, I am only a spectator in my life,
But others have accepted my choice.
I wish, I could go in that moment once and become me,
For a moment.
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bread. Pieces
Bread. Pieces. Stale
Spoon. Stained. Half
Plate. Broken.One
Pan.Dry. Empty
Table. Brown. Dirty
Door. Bell. Footsteps
Silence. Fear. Apprehension
Man. Thin. Tatters
Eyes. Cold. Piercing
Gazes. Afraid. Numb
Sound. Loud. Harsh
Child. Tears. Gurgle
Bread. Pieces. Gone
Faces. White. Wounded
Mouths. Pained. Dry
Door. Shut. Bang
Father. Drunk. Asleep
Mother. Deaf. Diseased
Children. Dumb. Broken
Life. Limp. Lost
Love. Desired. Denied.
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Colors.
Water, muddy and cool,
stands still at my feet.
Yellow stretch of fields, and a crimson sunset,
behold my breath.
Green moss covers the thin trees,
and a brown nest lies deserted in its arms.
Air, wet and tired, sways the white ferns,
while a few black crows fly by...
A peasent woman carrying her child passes by..
she wearing a blue sari....the child naked in a dirty sling.
I turn my gaze to my hands buried in the red sand...
A grey ant crawls on a finger, and steps down on land.
I get up with a sigh, wondering,
why is the dusk so colorful today?
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Geeli si, Roothi si, Soti si...
Geeli si, Roothi si, Soti si...
ek gandh aayi hai abhi.
nukkad se, chaurahe se..
ek chitthi aayi hai abhi.
subakti hui, aankhon ko meeche...
girti, ladkhadaati hai wo.
Rukti hai, mudti hai,
Phir chal padti hai wo.
Nirash si kuch, kuch laachar si...
par naa goongi hai naa bahri hai.
Sahmi si kuch, kuch naaraaz si...
par naa thaki hai naa thahri hai.
Mere pairon ke neechey hai jo
mera astitva hai wo.
Mere ungliyon ke galiyaaron se fisli hai jo..
mera hi shrot hai wo.
Kuch aur nahin, mitti hai wo
sajal hai jo, mitti hai wo
baandhey hue hai, mitti hai wo
pankh bhi hai jo, mitti hai wo.
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ghazal
Kashmakash ke sisak se ek tasvir ubhri hai....
apne hi katron mein doobi hui hai.
Saaz siskiyon ka zaari hai abhi...
kuch to khaas hai jo baaqi hai abhi.
haanth faailaayen, kuch boondein ikattha kar loon...
thahroon ek pal, koi muquaam haasil kar loon.
Phir chal padi hoon usi raahe guzar se...
aanch abhi bhi aati hai guzre hue lamhon se.
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I wait….
On the blades of grass
By the river Ganges
Some sand in my hand
And some in my gaze.
I hear chants,
As the dawn breaks.
Saffron robes discarded,
Bodies washed in water.
The morning moon remains
Stubborn silent soothing
Refusing to leave
And surrender before the sun
The air smells pungent
With flowers and incense
It remains quiet for a while,
Then humming walks away
The day crawls through my hair,
Touches my hand
Slips through my body
And falls at my feet
I awake with a start
Trying to feel your presence
Of course you did not come
I was awake all night
But may be you came
And quietly left
May be I slept and lost you
And so tonight I shall come again.
I wipe the sand
From my hair and skirt
My bangles jingle
As two bare feet stop nearby
With hope I look up
To see a hermit
“Anarth”he mumbles
And turns away.
Now I know
You will never come
That you never meant to
But look at me, I still wait
Reaching home, stares question me
In a stupor I murmur
“Leave me alone just for today
For, tonight I shall neither wait nor survive”
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Man on the pavement
“There is a long snake
Yellow dangerous”
“What, where”
“It is dead, but see you must”
And so the sight was witnessed
Amidst amused curious exclamations
A creature, squashed.dead
Was a source of admiration
Dangerous poisonous
Its qualifications
Curiosity pleasure
The ramifications.
The snake I speak of,
Is the man I see on the pavement
Me, you, us, all
The onlookers present
When he was alive
He was a threat
For alms he begged
But of him I was afraid.
Now that he is dead, I walk near him
Smiling, proud unafraid
I can even touch him,
But the raw open wound
Makes the desire dim
And so I learn a lesson,
As I look away.
That I must keep
The man on the pavement at bay.
For, It is poisonous to be poor
Dangerous to be common
Crime to be helpless
And only death…
To be the man on the pavement.
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Motherland
Precious sins, pure misery and a failed truimph.
Is that all i have to offer you...?
No there is more.....
Indifference, still and unyielding
Is also what i can yield to you.
Presence? Life? Attention? ...
Oh you ask for too much.
What do i owe you afterall..
only a name called motherland..
Why do you demand so much?
Why not close your eyes and pretend you are dead?
It might be easier that way
For you and for me.....
Did you say you pine for serenity...?
Well..i am giving you reverence...
By way of saffron flags and lotus...
Why, is that not enough?
You are troubled by clashes you say...
But bloodshed is your past mother.
If you give the slightest nod...
I will make tyranny your destiny.
Let me leave mother,
for greener pastures.
I might not return,
So dont fret for me.
I know i am selfish,
but that is what they have done to me...
asked them why
And they blamed others for it.
Oh dont cry dear...
i dont know why that hurts me too..
Shut your ears...
My echoing footsteps might hurt you more.
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Political Irony
“… I promise a school,
Where your children shall learn.
And a booming business
Where the rest, can earn”
Applause. Thus ended the minister’s speech.
Clad in white, eyes shaded,
He waved at eager faces.
As thin legs and hands on frail structures caressed the car,
The ambassdor sped away.
Another village witnessed the same spectacle,
Which continued in the next ten.
In the scorching heat and the cracking earth,
The minister cultivated hope.And faith.
The car stopped by a railway station,
For the minister to board the train.
To Lucknow he would reach on time,
And then board the flight to Delhi at eight.
The coach was a first class,
So the minister soundly slept.
The fallow land and thirsty mouths,
Were soon forgotton.
At eight, the minister did catch the flght,
And stopped for a shower at his place.
He asked the servant to run his bath
While he made important calls.
The servant did as he was told,
And let the bath run.
Run it did for quarter of an hour
And only then the minister ended the call.
Well fed that the minister was,
Half the water made space for his entrance.
While much spilled from the tub,
He turned on the tap for some more.
“I definitely can have some Parathas,
Before I leave for the meeting”
Thus thinking he grabbed a bite
And left the rest for the bin
The Ambassador was back on the road,
With blue light flashing on its top.
The minister preened in the mirror,
While the driver looked for ways to speed the car.
The minister was now seated in a circle
With ten others of his kind.
There was a leader in the middle
To catch whose attention, all tried.
But the leader had selective hearing
And he heard very few words
Each time, ”vote”, ”election”or “campaign” was uttered
His attention stood to a stand still.
Our friend Minister too started to speak,
“Eleven villages I have toured,
Not a vote I will lose…”
Only that, and the audience was spellbound.
Assured, he began again,
“I promised them food
And I promised them water
If I had to, I would have promised heaven too”
“Oh! You should have looked at their faces,
Charmed they all were,
Dance to my tunes
They all did.”
The leader clapped his hands in glee
And creases on his forehead decreased.
The minister beemed with pride
And the rest envied his streak
The election came and the election went,
Of course, the minister did win.
The victory was a cause to celebrate
So the party started soon.
There was wine and food,
And lot of pretty faces
Many cars were parked at the gate
While others kept coming still.
Outside the gate sat four drivers
Each served the rich and famous.
Alcohol was all that they thought of,
For the rest, they couldn’t care less.
Said one, ”The minister has won,
Let us see what happens in the villages.
It will be fun to watch if he is as bad,
Or worse than the rest”
All the drivers chuckled at that,
For each thought he knew the fate
Elections were a season of promises,
Each promise served as a bait.
Governance is an excuse for comfort
Political irony is the name of the game.
A minister bathes in wine and chokes on food,
And those who paid the bill still pray for water.
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Queer
I squeeze the air...with my hand
pinching the sunlight with the fingers.
Smelling remorse i get up,
to walk into a canon.
Some heads were blown away,
And bodies strewn near..
blood made things colorful,
who said that war was not dear.
A certain God called President,
ordered death for breakfast,
since there were many hungry
the party is still not over.
Destinies are not decided...
they are made.
by people who hold the gun,
and by those who order for them.
Children? well they are to be squashed,
under a lifetime of nightmares,
And if some remain,
they can be baits for more mayhem
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
sannate ki aawaaz hai
sannate ki aawaaz hai,
suni hui si lagti hai.
dhuan to uthta nahin par
siskiyaan sulagti hain.
aaftaab ke dar se
andhere kaa daaman chootta nahin.
khairiyat ke dar se
suqoon ka manzar failtaa nahin
aakhir kab tak yun hi
beraunak chehron ko chipaayenge?
aakhir kab tak yun hi
afsaanon se dil ko bahalaayenge.
AAzaadi kaa lahoo to bachaa nahin
ab kya nichodenge
dairo dharam ki deewaarein hi baaqui hain
kab tak us par taqdeerein phodeinge
Ab to sambhal jaaein ki
raastaa khatma hone ko hai
Ab to ghar laut jaayein ki
darwaazaa band hone ko hai!
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
sitting on a cloud
I floated, on a bloated cloud,
Too full of itself.
I saw the view like a voyer,
Concealed, and enjoying it.
I touched the air, unsure.
It was damp and unsettling.
I tasted a dew drop
Tiny, it melted.
I sniffed the earth
The smell afar but arresting.
I closed my eyes
And felt happiness.
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Soccer-For rhyme and no reason
I thought, nothing could be crazier,
Than a stick, a ball and a bunch of men thrown together.
This was till i witnessed another bunch minus the stick,
And that drove me to the end of my teher
(See, That rhymes :))
On a patch of grass,
I saw some men furiously dribble a ball.
Thats all they did for a while
And then fed up, they hit it with a cry'goal'.
I heard some words,
To know the meaning of which i do not pine.
For instance, there were lines and i could see none
And these had names like Goal, center and touch, with the suffix line.
Worse, they acted like power rangers,
With names like-defenders, midfielders, and sweepers.
The only way they behaved was,
When a guy called referee sounded a beeper.
Yes, i know this will not last forever,
Evil never wins.
The only grudge i have is that,
it is always followed by its kins.
Pali Tripathi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
That Day
Icy sound, a blue handshake and a blurry quilt.
That is all i remember of that day.
I dont know the color of those words or the feel of a presence.
Only an acknowledgement, that i was there.
Rough lines, a precise movement and a click of shoes...
And then the day ended.
Now, i close my eyes, sitting on a wave of memory...
trying to catch ripples of familiarity...
or may be outlines of an existence...
But none remains.
Remains? Yes..for i know that a while ago it had touched me.
That too has now faded...only a stillness remains.
Turning back, touching a whisper, looking at a shiver,
I submit...to that day, to that moment, to that reality.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Grinny's Birthday
There was lot of excitement in Ripple-o-Fripple Land.Grinny the Elf had invited all the inhabitants in Ripple-O-Fripple Land for his birthday.Grinny as the name suggests had a mouth that stretched on the corners and his eyes always wrinkled whether he spoke or smiled or laughed.He was a tiny elf indeed,and if Teenie,his neighbour was not tinier,Grinny would have been the tiniest elf in Ripple-O Fripple.Grinny got up very early that day,grinning from ear to ear.He quickly wore his soft green slippers and a dark green cloak and peered out of the window.It was a happy morning indeed.The sky was clear blue,the breeze was cool,without being chilly and the grass and trees were green and glistening with chrystal like dew drops."I wish I could fly like butterflies and hop on those dew drops and slide on them",said Grinny to himself.He had always been a very fanciful elf and often dreamt about things that were never heard of in any Elfland.Just then,Grinny felt that a particular blade of grass glistened more brightly than others.He peered closely and noticed something moving inside.He ran out of his cottage,almost stepping on Curly Worly the worm.
As Grinny approached the dew drop,he heard a whisper as if coming from inside the dewdrop.He knelt near the dew and noticed that it was much too big for a dew.He felt as if his head was reeling as if he were on a mary go round.The more he peered,the more lightheaded he felt,till he fell into a slumber.
When Grinny opened his eyes,he felt something rather wet and slippery under him.It was very bright around,almost blinding.As he lifted his lids he saw two little creatures almost like a butterfly the size of his thumb hovering over him."Look at his ears",said one of them."Look at his chin.It is as sharp as Streamy's whiskers",said another.Now Grinny was wide awake and confused on how he landed in that queer little place in the first place."You peered yourself into our land",came a voice from some distance.Grinny got up with a jerk,and saw another bigger butterfly like creature trotting near him."Can you read my thoughts?And how can one peer onself into something?No,first tell me,what is this place and who are you?What are your names?".
"My name is Quishy,these are the twins,Wishy and Washy.We are fairybuts and this place is called fairybut Land.We live like butterflies and have the magical powers of fairies.I know that you are Grinny the elf,and that today is your birthday",said Quishy the fairybut."But how do you know my name and where i live?"exclaimed Grinny.Washy answered,"The Fairybut Landers love birthdays and celebrations much more.On your birthday,if you peer hard enough into a dew Fairybut Land,you will land right inside.Do not be afraid of us"."Yes Yes,do not be afraid of us",echoed Wishy.Wishy and Washy always echoed the last words said by the other.
"We can arrange for you to be sent back if you wish to,or you can join us to celebrate your birthday",said Wavy ,another fairybut who had just joined the others.By now Grinny was very excited and not scared even a wee bit."Oh!How kind of you.I will love to stay",said Grinny with a wide grin on his face.At this all excliamed together,"Yippee...Yuppiee...Yooo...To the Party we all go".
And from there they wen to a large hall which was decorated with what seemed like light bulbs filled with snow .There were about 15 Fairybuts gathered around a huge 3 tiered cake .Each had a Giftwrapped box in their hands.As Grinny approcahed them,all sang in unison
"Happy Birthday,its a Happy Birthday in Fairybut Land.
Grinny the elf has a grinny granny face with hair of color sand.
Fairybuts sing Granny the elf a merry morry birthay song
And a dewy droppy song,and a hippy happy song ,to last his life long"
And thus they sang till their voices grew hoarse,and Grinny's mouth ached from grinning too much.They, then cut the cake and splashed some on Grinny.The last and the best part of the party were the presents.Grinny thanked each one of them profusely for their kindness.He could not wait to open the boxes.He wondered what magic and wonder lay within them.Lost in his thoughts,Grinny heard a voice,it seemed Teenie's."Wake up o Birthday elf.Or are you going to sleep away your grand day?"Grinny opened his eyes and lo and behold!He had been dreaming indeed.He was in his own cottage,in his own bed and there were no fairybuts around and no birthday cake either.But as he looked around,Grinny found that the table was laden with a heap of brightly coloured boxes,like the ones in his dream.Wait,Or was it a dream?
Grinny till today,on every birthday of his peers into each and every dew drop he comes across,with the hope that this might be the fairy but land.He still doesnt know if he had indeed been there and if he was just dreaming,how did the presents come in his house when none of the elves had given it to him.Do you know?
As Grinny approached the dew drop,he heard a whisper as if coming from inside the dewdrop.He knelt near the dew and noticed that it was much too big for a dew.He felt as if his head was reeling as if he were on a mary go round.The more he peered,the more lightheaded he felt,till he fell into a slumber.
When Grinny opened his eyes,he felt something rather wet and slippery under him.It was very bright around,almost blinding.As he lifted his lids he saw two little creatures almost like a butterfly the size of his thumb hovering over him."Look at his ears",said one of them."Look at his chin.It is as sharp as Streamy's whiskers",said another.Now Grinny was wide awake and confused on how he landed in that queer little place in the first place."You peered yourself into our land",came a voice from some distance.Grinny got up with a jerk,and saw another bigger butterfly like creature trotting near him."Can you read my thoughts?And how can one peer onself into something?No,first tell me,what is this place and who are you?What are your names?".
"My name is Quishy,these are the twins,Wishy and Washy.We are fairybuts and this place is called fairybut Land.We live like butterflies and have the magical powers of fairies.I know that you are Grinny the elf,and that today is your birthday",said Quishy the fairybut."But how do you know my name and where i live?"exclaimed Grinny.Washy answered,"The Fairybut Landers love birthdays and celebrations much more.On your birthday,if you peer hard enough into a dew Fairybut Land,you will land right inside.Do not be afraid of us"."Yes Yes,do not be afraid of us",echoed Wishy.Wishy and Washy always echoed the last words said by the other.
"We can arrange for you to be sent back if you wish to,or you can join us to celebrate your birthday",said Wavy ,another fairybut who had just joined the others.By now Grinny was very excited and not scared even a wee bit."Oh!How kind of you.I will love to stay",said Grinny with a wide grin on his face.At this all excliamed together,"Yippee...Yuppiee...Yooo...To the Party we all go".
And from there they wen to a large hall which was decorated with what seemed like light bulbs filled with snow .There were about 15 Fairybuts gathered around a huge 3 tiered cake .Each had a Giftwrapped box in their hands.As Grinny approcahed them,all sang in unison
"Happy Birthday,its a Happy Birthday in Fairybut Land.
Grinny the elf has a grinny granny face with hair of color sand.
Fairybuts sing Granny the elf a merry morry birthay song
And a dewy droppy song,and a hippy happy song ,to last his life long"
And thus they sang till their voices grew hoarse,and Grinny's mouth ached from grinning too much.They, then cut the cake and splashed some on Grinny.The last and the best part of the party were the presents.Grinny thanked each one of them profusely for their kindness.He could not wait to open the boxes.He wondered what magic and wonder lay within them.Lost in his thoughts,Grinny heard a voice,it seemed Teenie's."Wake up o Birthday elf.Or are you going to sleep away your grand day?"Grinny opened his eyes and lo and behold!He had been dreaming indeed.He was in his own cottage,in his own bed and there were no fairybuts around and no birthday cake either.But as he looked around,Grinny found that the table was laden with a heap of brightly coloured boxes,like the ones in his dream.Wait,Or was it a dream?
Grinny till today,on every birthday of his peers into each and every dew drop he comes across,with the hope that this might be the fairy but land.He still doesnt know if he had indeed been there and if he was just dreaming,how did the presents come in his house when none of the elves had given it to him.Do you know?
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