“The breeze flies past me,
It touches me like a ghost, makes me shiver.
But why doesn’t this happen to you?
It excites every tree
And the black water in the silent river
But why doesn’t this happen to you?
In the bluish-black night sky
That you yourself have lit
Clouds try to hide your light
Apparently making you feel shy
They, themselves, closely knit,
To darken the beautiful night.
I sway along and so my moods do,
But why doesn’t this happen to you?
Why are you just there where you were when I was swung by the breeze?
Why doesn’t your light move with the vapourous cotton crossing your path with ease?
Don’t you feel lonely in the barren plain sky with only a few fixed stars?
Don’t you want to go around and have fun and play on the planet of Mars?”
“No! I don’t feel lonely.
The breeze doesn’t brush me aside
It pats me while on the glide
As if I’m a baby in a pram.
The clouds do not hide me,
They come over for a party.
I do not shiver in the wind’s cold
For, to stay in my place I’m told.
I do not feel lonely at all.
I have myself to have fun
And of course, in the morning, the sun.
Like sitting down there, you enjoy natural sights,
I enjoy people like you all around the globe, the glamour, the lights.
And this is what makes life interesting here.
I wonder too,
Why doesn’t this happen to you?”
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10 comments:
I finally managed to check out your other blog...There's a lot i have to say.
Firstly, the way you write, your poems especially... its beautiful, the right mix of emotion, simple language and rhyming.
secondly, the other things you write about, issues you raise.. I'm beginning to develop a certain warmth towards you.. your ideas and thoughts are full of youthful optimisim, but i think they escape being airy, rash or just fantastic concoctions.. they're well thought out and could take you far.. oddly enough, that was my way of thinking when i was a teenager too..
and for that poem where u asked for the reader's interpretation.. i thought it was about a person who's thought to be a block, doesnt let anyone see what's inside the ice cube he/she projects to the world... am i right in guessing its you you've written about??
hey thanks for being here and for appreciating my work.
Interestingly, what I thought of, while writing the poem 'I can feel too...' is completely different from any interpretation I have received so far.
I've written it from the eyes of a blind man who's being ill-treated in a bad world of indifferent people. He's considered a dead blob of mass floating around, or given too much sympathy and pity, which he dislikes. It's his effort to tell everyone that he can do everything else that a normal human can do and apart from that do some things which even they can't. While explaining to everyone his condition, he comes to a point where he is forced to rethink, whether he actually can feel or not, but his doubts vanish because of his inner eyes, and the flashes of thought and images that he sees even without the physical ability to see (the ones we ignore in comparison with the world we see).
I guess there is no right or wrong while understanding poetry. Maybe poetry is meant to stimulate contradictory, or conflicting views in different individuals. Had poets only wished to put across their thoughts, it would have been easier to use plain language. But according to me, it is meant to evoke thoughts of the reader.
beautiful comment my friend... like i said earlier.. you think really deep for your age.. you'll reach the zenith yet. and i loved the truth behind the poem.. its true.. poetry is enjoyed better for its powers of stimulation.
may i ask, what you intend to do once you finish 12th?
thank-you for your super-encouraging comments. I'm preparing to be an engineer after 12th (IIT and all).
It often happens to me,
I am part of a huge crowd,
Surrounded by people all around,
Yet I feel lonely.
I laugh and smile and have fun,
But deep inside I am teary.
I feel there is someone behind me,
I turn around and there is nobody.
I hear a music, I hear a song,
Yet there is none to whom it belongs.
Does it ever happen to you??
Sure, it happens to me as well,
For we're all part of the crowd,
We're all 'we', but we're all 'me',
Trying to sing our own song loud.
Tears are the only medium
for love and joy to flow
And the silent existence of someone behind,
is an assurance steady and slow.
I remember the day, when my father
was trying to teach me to ride
a bicycle for the first time
and quietly left it from behind
Till I knew that he was there
I went on pretty good.
But as I looked behind, I fell
He was just where he had stood!
So, the song cares not for anything else,
but a reassurance from you
of your being there to mark his words
and paint him in your hue.
The song’s your friend and you are his
Will remain so forever
So there’s no question of trying to peep
Into another’s endeavour.
The song is present in all of us,
If we would just care to pause,
And reduce the noise that exists,
And listen to the music without a fuss!
Have you found your song yet?
Well, I have found mine,
I sing it with gay abandon,
Not expecting any appreciation!
The song is present in all of us,
Yes, a magnificent opus
If we would just care to pause,
To reward ourselves with applause
And reduce the noise that exists,
And stop every hand that resists
And listen to the music without a fuss!
Yes, the magnificent opus.
Have you found your song yet?
Perhaps, I have a little more to sweat
Well, I have found mine,
I'll catch up in some time
I sing it with gay abandon,
It's lighting up your life's lantern
Not expecting any appreciation!
That's the spirit of emancipation
Its really great. You have left me speechless or rather wordless. I hope to hear your song soon!
Check up on Dream & Riots, posted on my blog recently. Would surely love to have your poetic comments there!!
this is another lovely poem, may i suggest something here, if you can slowly get rid of the rhyme scheme, you will notice that there is an internal rhyming and cadence of words within your poem. and, rhyming is sort of obsolete in contemporary poetry. the choice is yours though, but these external ornamentations were done away with almost hundred years ago. and the message was to strive for the rhythm and rhyme within, without making an obvious attempt at it. if poetry is sponteneous, music will be written into it naturally. :-)
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