A brush with life
A day in adulthood

A helpless follower

A man draped in tattered clothes

After dark

An axe on Keats

And can't I mould my future

And how the dreams fall

Being in love

Bereft of success

Between despair and hope

Come back soon
Devil and his counterpart

Devour

Engineers

Epitaph

Farewell

Farewell from the circle of friends

Fast moves the time

Femina

Finding Estella again

Freedom came cheap

From where to nowhere

Fulfillment

Harvest

Heart in Everest

Heaven to hell and back again

HOME

How he lies amid his ruins, and you smile

How I missed the beauty

I want to be your nosering
I weave a dream
I wonder
Insomnia

Kiss from a rose

Land's end

Leeches in my soul

Letter from battlefield

Looking back

Losing everything

Love and compromise

Love in modern times

Madonna

My abode among the clouds

My beloved

Naga Sadhu goes digital

Nevertheless I tried

Ode

On St. Valentine

On visiting an old place

Papa dear

Rancour

Reminiscences from my graveyard

Stranger at the tavern

Suspended animation

Tears, idle tears

Telephone call to my beloved

Tell her I am dead

Termination

That passed, this also may

The blissful illusion

The breathless seashore

The bride

The Buddha smiled, but he died

The cigarette butt, the mosquito blood

The day after the crossing

The desert princess

The dipping sun

The eve of St. Valentine

The frozen wet damsel

The last word

The pen and the paper

The phoenix

The pimp

The silence spoke so much

The soldier's lament

The tear left a trail

The world beyond innocence

They tell me I am mad

Thoughts of tomorrow

Titanic

To hug her close or leave her alone

Today I die

Vain is the wish to be born again

Vanished figure

Walking through the streets of a country deprived

When loss pains no more

Where the grass in not painted green

Which is better?

Wild nights
You don't ask

You see why I died

 

Priyatu's World > Poetry>  The blissful illusion

The blissful illusion

I see her with each rising sun,
The same face, the same smile et all,
And the same eyes speak through ether-
A whisper distinct I hear, a voice sweet.
And it melts into my heart, and then melts it.
No words need intrude, no touch, no caress,
For a bliss more encompassing I possess.
Dare I break the spell? The spell
Which sustains, which gives meaning
To the entering breath, gives the glitter of their eye.
Oh! What’s more sensual than remain far and sigh?
She’s mine I hear, she’s mine so she tells,
I see her in laced gowns, I hear the church bells.
Then she speaks, her head like a lily at noon,
Then she is held, embraced and kissed soon-
But why do I feel that the man is unknown?
Ah! She smiles- see, now she smiles-
But why do I feel she’s away- miles and miles?
-22/7/2000,Calcutta-63

COMMENTS :

Men are in a dilemma. One teacher asked the student- what is the thinnest book? The student didn’t need to think twice; he replied- What Men Know About Women. The female species is one of the least understood specimens of nature. Man has been trying to understand women a little after he himself was born- the Bible tells us that woman came a little later, since God had forgotten to make the fair sex. It seems that little delay is the cause of incomprehensibility. When Milton wrote his epic he tried to fool men into believing that he was justifying the ways of God to men- he actually was trying to understand women and her hero who was courting her with a lovely red apple even before Adam knew that one needs to court her. Men have been making calculations about the cranial capacity of women (the Internet is filled with such investigations) but he forgot that charity begins at home. Thus when she brought the apple to Adam he thought it was a gift from her- he was a fool, is a fool and shall remain so. The sage advice goes that don’t run after the missed bus and the girl- if you fall you will get injured. Who pays heed? The pretty classmate looks your way and smiles once- and you are ready to bet that she has fallen in love with you. The only thing that can be said about this foolishness is that men enjoy it- it is a sort of masochism.

Among these masochists is one particular group which, for laziness, lack of courage or whatever foolish reason, likes to have fun from far. They take the advice given in Hyderabad Blues very sincerely (dil pe kya leta hai, haat pe le), and like the mariners of Ulysses marooned in the Lotos Land, say ‘Oh! What’s more sensual than remain far and sigh?’ Man is by nature a voyeur- he gives in to his nature, and at home writes this foolish poem (‘Writing poetry is the silliest business in the world. All do it because they have nothing better to do’).

Note: This product of foolishness has been inspired by a voyeuristic engagement with a classmate, and hence, is dedicated to her. (Teacher: What is a classmate? Student: One with whom you mate in the class)

 

My favourite picks

Devil and his counterpart
Devour
Epitaph
Farewell from the circle of friends
Femina
Finding Estella again
Harvest
Kiss from a rose
Land's end
Leeches in my soul
Love and compromise
Nevertheless I tried
Stranger at the tavern
Suspended animation
Tell her I am dead
The blissful illusion
The breathless seashore
The bride
The cigarette butt, the mosquito blood
The dipping sun
The pimp
They tell me I am mad
To hug her close or leave her alone
You see why I died
Wild nights