Tuesday, February 26, 2008 by Indrajit

In crowded Mart..

iN the still solace of the towering night,
littered with nothings, i lay in sombre,
I seek freedom , i seek my world,
bring them back, O my solitude dear.

The harangues and the stilted flow,
of words all around in pompous show,
i yearn a glimpse of the blissed sight,
in the blabbers and boasts of spurious delight.

AH being lonely without the Solitude's shine,
as if life's a mirage , mirroring me insane.
Beloved solitude, if you not come,
to chase my horizon now, I must run.
Indrajit ghosal

Posted in: | 14 Sonatas | |  

Friday, February 15, 2008 by Indrajit

Surrender

Dreaded the desire to open the eyes,
that seeked witness to let go of
the chastised tears-
still very much my own.

I dodged every beat of the heart
that forced and summoned me into
the long void passages of pain.
I clinged to the flickers of forlorn happiness,
with every passing breath, i consoled myself-
"Yes , Life- i have so much Life to Gain."

Till the breathes turned into feary sighs,
till my every plea of Mercy, in denial Dies-
Then a sadist force dragged me to those dreaded Bylanes,
and before i knew,
I started losing myself
in the same crooked paths
that led me nto the wilderness of Pain
Yet Again.

P.S -this is just an imaginary work and hope u like it.
Indrajit ghosal

Posted in: | 13 Sonatas | |  

Tuesday, February 5, 2008 by Indrajit




where Merrily Bloom the Roses.

In a place of all places,
where merrily blooms the roses,
far from mortal thorns,
in warmth of silvery dews,
sprinkled in cosy petals.

every petal pearlish pink,
in scarlets some are born,
honeyed with the reddish sun,
roses laced with petals adorn.

then the fragrance sprightly blows,
breeze bows to it's beautious glow,
in times of showers and snows
drench the roses , in colors overflow.

Indrajit ghosal
copyright(c)reserved2008

this is MY 50TH POST..

Posted in: | 16 Sonatas | |  

Sunday, February 3, 2008 by Indrajit

Fiddler On the Roof( translation of a Jewish play in Hindi)

Witnessing 2nd Play in delhi.:)
(My theatre visit @ Sri fort audi, khelgaon, New Delhi)

it was an enormous Auditorium , with an 1800 seater and i was glad to get
one , so what if it was from the back (they say 'nice boys come last' :( :( ) ,
reaching there all the way from Gurgaon , braving the winter chill , without
my new d cam ( they dont allowinside :( ), and managing a ticket from the
back row( cos the genteels have tele booked all prime seats, and no hard feelings for
this), the entire effort lavished a sense of an undermined achievement in my
heart , that continued and reaped rich dividends when I witnessed such a
marvellous Play.

In theatres ,the front seats are the most expensive and most sought-after
unlike the cine-plexes , just to get a better view of the artistes' subtleties
and executions..

I liked the ambience of the amphitheatre , with the rock-solid volunteers
jumping towards yu before you ask for the directions , the aroma of a
charming world inside, the perfect settings , and teh throngings of genteels ,
whom I would soon call 'A Class Public"..Throughout the entire 2 hrs
play , there were no side talks around me and not a single phone beeped.
Nor did i hear any cheap talks or the chomping of popcorns inside, taht
are so so distractive . the crowd seemed sophisticated and mannered , with people
mostly in their 35s to 45s.elderlies were also there in good nos and people in their
early 20s were far and few.


How unlike a cineplex ! one of the reasons i always ask them to give me a ticket away
away and as away as possible from the cine crowds, no matter if it's nearest to
the screen. Mostly i had to contend with a seat i dreaded. but that's a different story.

The play was called FIDDLER ON THE ROOF-- an account of the Jewish
community , struck in their orthodoxy and the their self-doubts , that
reared cynical heads, whenever someone tried to embrace the modernisms.
Every such phases revolved around a family , that comprised a mild hearted father,
a stern mother and 5 daughters.
With every liberal changes happening around the world, this community stuck
to it's old traditions , unless their 2 elder daughters gave way to a different outlook
marrying a groom of tehir choice.
The last straw for the Jew milkman was his 3rd daughter marrying a
Christian ( which was tantamount to a sin), for which he disowned his daughter..
The incident had a domino effectin their whole village and they had to leave
their village (the entire contingetnt :( )...
the fiddler who came in on and off was the metaphor for tehir survivals,
through odds and evens of life, thorugh uncertainties that it summoned.

The play had some mild witty sequences and some sarcasms on the Christian comm.

The songs did not augur well as they were translated from the original jewish play in
Hindi , but the choreography was fantablio...
One sequence of a ballad (well i like to think it was a ballad , dont know what it was:P),
where the 4 dancers sashayed around with empty bottles on their heads ,
that covered their cowboy cap.. That drew the largest applause, yes , the largest.

even when at teh end, when the artistes and backofice people came for encore,
it was the choreography director who drew the largest and heartfelt aaplause,
and sad that she was absent .:(

And then i came out . 2 hrs show over. It was drizzling in Delhi,that further
severed the cold yesterday night. It felt good and with a hot disposable cocoa
cup, I walked out with the crowd , with the desire to witness many more
Plays.:)

indrajit ghosal

Posted in: | 8 Sonatas | |  

Friday, February 1, 2008 by Indrajit

Heart

Ah! heart ,is it the same arcade,
where we store our fondness forever
& secluded memories, bitter-sweet,
galaxies of love with delicate care?

Heart,that pumps blood till we live,
bears the lost pangs in an impassive vein,
heart , they say is hurt the most,
wheh wishes tumble and betrayals reign.

Heart , O how many deaths it witnesses
in one life , (or is it one too many) ?
spacing for sublimes and sorrows alike,
it beats usual, and at times, cacophony.

heart, the bearer of secrets immortal,
the seer of goodness unsung,
every valour needs a heart,and yet -
it melts with every paramours' depart.

the heart beats , at times the void hollers
yet it reposes , in many lazy seasons.
with days of yore and essence of yesteryears,
with all life's beatings , it seeketh no reasons.

savouring and solacing till the curtain draws,
it beats blued flaws and hosannas galore
the bearer for life and it's reflections' abode,
Till life's curtain sails to the Eternal shores.

Indrajit Ghosal
Copyright(c)reserved 2008.


Posted in: | 14 Sonatas | |  

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