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Showing posts from April, 2008

Poesis Persica

"Scripsis poesem Persicam, eh!" "Lingua pulcherissima est, ne?" "Scriptum arabicum est." "Nimium bellum, non est ne?" "Id quid codum secretum Al-Qaedae visum est." "Vere dicistis fabulae! Id prex ad Khodam est." "Khoda Allah est, integre?" "Multi sunt nomines Dei." "Illi viri clamant Allahu-Akbar, non clamantne? Codum est, scivi ego!" * "TERRORATOR SIMULANS POETA PERSICA CAPTUS EST"

A ghazal of vengeance

Those times of strain, those tears of suffering, shall be remembered. Of ceaseless toil and repeated trying, shall be remembered. Sincerely made attempts to please unrelenting hearts, Efforts in vain, always failing, shall be remembered. I never sinned, yet in the minds of those who judge me, This damning stain, never fading, shall be remembered. They say I failed; I fled from them. But their curses that Follow in train,never pausing, shall be remembered. But yet Raamesh, shall dauntlessly be avenged some day His heavy price, never sparing, shall be remembered.

रेगिस्तान

तुम्हारी मोतियों के रेगिस्तान का हम क्या करेंगे? जी लेंगे हम अगर आप हमारे नाम एक आंसू मॊहब्बत का बहा देंगे! यह कृति उमर बहुभाषीय रूपांन्तरक की मदद से देवनागरी में टाइप की गई है|

पाठक को प्रणाम

मैंने तो केवल खींची थीं कागज़ पर, काली सियाही की चन्द रेखाएँ; तुम्ही ने बनायीं उन रेखाओं को, कथा‍पात्रों की जीवनरेखाएँ | यह कृति उमर बहुभाषीय रूपांन्तरक की मदद से देवनागरी में टाइप की गई है|

What beauty in a bulbul that does not sing?

What beauty in a star that does not twinkle? what love in an anklet that does not tinkle? What beauty in a bulbul that does not sing? What beauty in a school-bell that does not ring? How cute a buffalo not covered in mud? What beauty in a louse that does not suck blood? What fun politicians who do not gaffe? What beauty in a snob who likes the riff-raff? What beauty in an aunt who does not gossip? What use a banana peel that does not trip? What beauty in an itch that you cannot scratch? What beauty in an account that does not match? What beauty in a will that is not for me? What beauty in a download that is not free? What beauty in puris that drip not with oil? What beauty in a python that does not coil? What beauty in a witch who does not cackle? What fun a footballer who does not tackle? What beauty in a scorpion that does not sting? What beauty in a gutter that does not stink? What beauty in a fly that irritates not? What beauty in you who appreciates not?

कोई फ़िक़्र नहीं

सालों अकेला रह जाने का कोई फ़िक़्र नहीं बेबस राह देखते रह जाने का, कोई फ़िक़्र नहीं जब तेरा साथ ही नहीं था, बिछड़ने का क्या डर तन्हाई में तरस जाने का, कोई फ़िक़्र नहीं यादों की बैसाखी पकडे कटती है ज़िन्दगी इन्हें कभी भी ख़ो जाने का, कोई फ़िक़्र नहीं लिपट जाऊँ मैं तेरी बिछड़ाहत के नूर से इस पतंगे को जल जाने का, कोई फ़िक़्र नहीं यह चाहत तेरी, न मरने देती है न जीने पर छटपटाते रह जाने का, कोई फ़िक़्र नहीं अकेले पन की अब आदत लग गयी है सनम तेरे बिन जीवन जी जाने का, कोई फ़िक़्र नहीं अब तू आएगी तो घबरा जाए रामेश, लेकिन आ जा, तेरे आने जाने का, कोई फ़िक़्र नहीं यह कृति उमर बहुभाषीय रूपांन्तरक की मदद से देवनागरी में टाइप की गई है|

homage to hedonia

seize the day there is tomorrow seize on joy to hell with sorrrow i place on your altar cocaine and crack in your great temple no pleasure shall lack for some you're a cigarette joy wrapped in paper or a charas-filled chillum which high doesn't taper some seek you in wine they sip you, they sniff you for some you're in toddy they straightforward quaff you you're a sachet of gutkha a snort of some snuff for some you're in shoe- polish or similar stuff some seek you in sport they seek victory on top of a mountain in the surf of the sea some scared of defeat choose the spectator-box for them you're the win of the boston red sox some seek to seduce the one they adore weaker ones seek you in the arms of a whore some think you exist in things they acquire they think they find you when stocks rise higher you're the immortal name that some seek to conquer like a gandhi did once with protest and hunger some call you glory they seek you in war they slaughter

The Tale Of A Tail: Why Humans Do Not Have Tails

Team 2 of the Workshop for Writing for Children, Kala Ghoda Arts Festival - Manoj Sood, Jennifer Alphonso, Nandita Banerjee and Raamesh Gowri Raghavan Mumbai, 2 & 3 February 2008 In the land of Old Uvai, In the Ngoro Ngoro forest, Lived a nasty naughty boy, Who was never at a rest. His name was Konoo-Monoo, He lived upon a Dhonoo, He ate mongongo nuts And ripe chamanchaputs. He was fond of irritating, Whoever slept a wink For if he saw you sleeping, He would tickle you pink. He had a proud, long tail, A really long, long tail, All humans then had tails, you see, But them they lost 'em. How? Just see! He washed his tail with water, He thought it very fine. He said, “everyone oughter, Have a Tail like mine!” Huma the Head-Elephant, Said, “Do not be arrogant, Now mind my sound advice, Lest you be cursed thrice!” “Once cursed you may be, A second you may catch, But if it comes to three, Your tail shall detach!” But Konoo-Monoo giggled, He tickled and he jiggled, He said, “H

मॊहब्बत का एक क़तरा

दुनिया के चाहत का दरिया क्यों न हो, क्या करेगा रामेश, तेरे मॊहब्बत का एक क़तरा मिल जाए, जी जाएगा रामेश | यह कृति उमर बहुभाषीय रूपांन्तरक की मदद से देवनागरी में टाइप की गई है|

The cicada's plaint

April is the grasshopper's time, The cricket and cicada's too; April is the time of flowers, The time of sweet nectar-filled flowers; April is the time of singing, The time to chirp serenades of love; April is the time of summer, The summer of May and June; April is the season of joy, The joy that seems eternal. but April's the month of deceit, The joys are but ephemeral; April blinds one to December, And its cold that starves and torments; April's a cheat and a liar, April is the cruellest month. (drawing from the fable of the ant and the cicada)

This Strand of Memory

On opening a book of verse, falls a strand of memory. A part of you that is ever mine, this strand of memory. Intangible, infrangible, It keeps bound among these pages - The bonds that you chose to sever, dear, this strand of memory. It seems you are talking to me; It replays the things you said, Funny, dull, silly, vague, clever, clear, this strand of memory. Like a shiny black record tape, it plays again and again, The voice I am doomed to never hear, this strand of memory. You never concede that you err, But it stores forever the Mistakes you hid with a clever tear, this strand of memory. The twinkle of your jewels comes back; It floods my senses, dispels, A parting that I need never fear, this strand of memory. The paper crumbles, the ink fades, but your ghazals still echo, They stream back to me as ever clear, this strand of memory. You never were mine, but entrapped among these ageing verse

कंजूस

पैसा पडा है बैंक में, आठ टक्का ब्याज है | रामेश पाहे कंजूस को, खाता रोटी‍ प्याज है || यह कृति उमर बहुभाषीय रूपांन्तरक की मदद से देवनागरी में टाइप की गई है|