Showing posts with label Philosophy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Philosophy. Show all posts

Saturday, 18 October 2014

Those Cloudy Eyes



Penned By B D Narayankar 

Standing underneath
the umberella of the sky,
the cold dark hues 
of the night
dissolves in the
floating clouds

Standing underneath
the umberella of the sky,
I have always thought
that sometimes
I would scoop by my finger
the spreading darkness,
and ever so slyly
paint your eyes
with cold dark hues
of the night
Like sometimes
you paint your eyes
with Kajal

Friday, 17 October 2014

Poem: The Paper Boat At The IGates - Third Of The Three In Series

Sailing Away - sad, girl, boat, fantasy, lady

Penned By B D Narayankar

Boats, ships

each one of
them
finds a shore,
but not a 
paper boat!

I am that paper boat,

and you are my shore,
My Love!

Will I get

to you
in this birth,
or next?
Tell me,
Honey

Tuesday, 14 October 2014

I See You In Every Beautiful Being


Penned By B D Narayankar

Last evening
an intelligent,
beautiful girl
over phone innocently 
told me:
You are a flatterer
You flatter every woman
by calling them beautiful

How should I tell her:
I see you (beloved) in her

And how should I tell you:
I see them in you

You are in each 
one of them
You mirror womanhood
They mirror womanhood
How should I tell
her?
And how should I tell
you, 
my love?

You And I, Don't Die!





Penned BY B D Narayankar

Embroiled
in the web of life
these culprits -
lovers -
are pulverised on earth

But every time
they rise,
only to be crushed again,
something 
pulls them back into their bodies

Bodies are quashed,
split, separated:
Bodies wear away,
Only lovers live on,
They never die
They cannot die

Yes, 
you and I
do not die,
we are eternal,
we are undying
Because lovers are
no less than souls,
my love

Sunday, 12 October 2014

Ecstasy Is Your Name, My Love






Penned By Narayan-Chandra Rauf - Alias B D Narayankar

While weaving your name 
in a verse of my poem
When I am able to dig meaning 
from the thorny alleys of words
My palms are slit
And fingers bleed
But ...
The moment your name is on my lips
My soul comes to grips 
with ecstasy

Friday, 3 October 2014

The Candied Thirst



What I like about this song is love letters Dharmendra writes to Rakhi who preserves them and reads all day long in the film.

Love letters - I miss you so much. Now it is electronic messages, done everything in jiffy with lots of spelling mistakes as well in a limited window of space

Whenever I watch and listen to this song, my mind traverses to my college days when my friends used to flock to me for writing love letters.

I had quite a reputation of getting girls for my friends with this art of writing

I have made a humble attempt to translate one of the haunting melodies of yesteryear "Pal Pal Dil Ke Paas", paying tribute to love letters

Translated By B D Narayankar

Every moment
close to my heart
you reside
Life is 
candied thirst
you say


Every evening
on my eyes
your scraf flutters
Every night
brings with it
string of memories

Whenever I breath
I catch your fragrance
With it
you bring 
a blooming message
My heartbeat also
sings your songs


Every moment
close to my heart
you reside
Life is 
candied thirst
you say

Yesterday
I saw you
in my garden
As if you were saying
Tie me in a bond
with you

What is this relationship?
What are these dreams?
Even though
you are unknown
Why do you 
feel like known?
I remain in my thoughts
I say with fear


Every moment
close to my heart
you reside
Life is 
candied thirst
you say


You may think
Why do I love you
that much
You may think
I am crazy
I too agree with you

The talks of crazy people
Only crazy people can understand
The fun that is
in burning
Only moths can understand
Continue burning
me like this
By coming in my dreams

Every moment
close to my heart
you reside
Life is 
candied thirst
you say




Thursday, 2 October 2014

My Pretty Girl



Penned By Narayan-Chandra Rauf 


When the night dies
in the fire of light.
I arise rubbing 
my eyes 
from the bed.

I see naughty,
playful pretty morning,
ready to chat with me. 
Just as my pretty girl
primes to do,
with her shirt tucked
at her waist, 
every morning

Wednesday, 1 October 2014

Choice Is Yours, Honey







Penned By B D Narayankar

My heart is a rain drop
caged on the peak 
of my palm.
Like a bird caged
on a pointed roof.

If blown,
it will fly,
settle as a 
glistening dot (sindhoor) 
on your forehead

If pricked,
it will burst
into pieces

Make your choice,
honey

Tuesday, 30 September 2014

Missing UB City, Today







Penned By B D Narayankar

Where have you hidden the day?
Where have you hidden
the silken wave of your tress?
Where have you hidden
the soothing milky face of yours?
Where have you hidden
the tinkling voice of yours?
Where has your chirpyness vanished?
Where are you?
Where are you heading?

Why is this loneliness walking
with me today?

Tuesday, 23 September 2014

Dreamy Last Night




Penned By B D Narayankar

Last night,
a melody put to sleep the dusk 
by singing lullabies.

Last night
the moon had a date 
with darkness.

Last night,
my love was at its peak.

Last night,
I was with you,
in dreams

Sunday, 21 September 2014

Where Was I? Where Were You? When Ecstasy Flit Around, Honey?













Penned By B D Narayankar

When the dusk plucked the night's wind

and worn it on her ears 
like a pair of ear-rings;
When the moon and the light
lay together in a close embrace;
When the quivering breathe fell
on the wet lips of a delicate girl;
Where was I?
Where were you, honey?

Friday, 19 September 2014

I Will Come Back For You Again And Again And ... Honey!



Penned By B D Narayankar

As I left the Nasscoms venue, yesterday
I flung from under the door
A small chit of my shadow:
Whether I return tomorrow is not certain
But if you manage 
To live in this hope-less world
For a day more
I leave this chit  (of my shadow)
As testament

Thursday, 18 September 2014

The Symphony Of Winds At Goodshepards



Penned By B D Narayankar

Whenever I happen to pass by the Goodshephards
I shut the engine of my bike
Sit with eyes closed
And hear the rhythm of the winds
On the roof of the trees

Seconds later, I see the gust of winds 
caressing the cheeks of the trees
Just like your wavering hair had kissed your lips
In that symphony of winds!

This memory of yours haunts me 
Whenever I pass by The Goodshephards 
In the neighbourhood of St Joseph's College
Where I once studied

Wednesday, 17 September 2014

The Milky Moon At The Nasscoms



Penned By B D Narayankar

How should I describe her face?
Perhaps God had passed this Nasscom event
With a brush dipped in milk, sprinkling drops everywhere
Some of which have fallen on to her face!

It was her habbit to chatter, keep chattering
She never knew pausing!
But she looked like a flowing water falling silent after entering a lake

Perhaps she is settling herself for shouldering the pain
The pain of creating Life!
That image of the thought, nudged my male voice within which said: You never will have this divine power
To give Life
I wonder then how great is she
She is my Moon, the Creator of Life!


Tuesday, 16 September 2014

An Intriguing Cycle of Rebirth

Pramod Mathur writes

Broadly speaking, reincarnation has been central to Hindu, tribal and Buddhist religions. Hundreds of stories about young children surface in the media intermittently. Children, who have identified their kin and led them to places of their last birth. Sometimes, far away from where they are born in this life.
In most cases, the result is simple awe. For most of us, it is amusing and entertaining. We talk about the story for a few days and then get on with our lives as usual.
The Buddhist concept of reincarnation is that there’s no eternal “soul”, “spirit” or “self” but only a “stream of consciousness” that links life with life—the ultimate goal being moksha, mukti or nirvana. The literal meaning would then be the extinction of the fires of attachment. In the Buddhist view, suffering comes to an end with nirvana, and one is freed from the cycle of rebirth.
In the Bhagawad Gita, Krishna says, “Just as death is certain for all that is born, so is certain birth for all that dies.” The Gita affirms that one who does good work will be born in a family of saints and spiritual men. After reaching perfection through various rebirths, he will reach his final goal, “moksha”. One should not be sad over the necessity of being born again, because it is the inviolable law, from which even the gods are not exempt. Moksha, then, is the final liberation of the soul from the chains of transmigration.
According to Hindu religion and philosophy, man is composed of two fundamental principles, the soul and the body. The soul is eternal, immutable, not born, not created, indestructible. The body is temporary, mutable and destructible. Renowned psychiatrist Dr. Brian Weiss has treated and interviewed hundreds of patients, who have experienced vignettes of their previous births. He has cured them of chronic illnesses after his regression therapy.
While discussing the concept of same souls being reborn in different bodies in one of his books, an interesting question came up: how can we explain the increasing number of souls ready to be reborn and match it to the burgeoning human population over the past centuries?
On the surface, this question seems intriguing. However, if we closely examine the Indian scriptures, the answer is not so difficult to find. The Puranas mention 84 lakh (8.4 million) forms that a soul is obliged to take in order to reach a human form. This is remarkably close to the 8.7 million species that scientists believe exist today. The concept of dashavtar (10 forms) of Lord Vishnu, even in animal form, explains the concept of evolution propounded by Darwin.
It seems a plausible explanation that souls are transmigrating from one living form to another until they are born as humans. Depending upon their “good deeds” as humans, they’re reborn as human again and again to refine their characters. Until they reach a point where they’ve no attachment in worldly things and are ready to attain moksha. So, what are the attributes that may guide us to attain moksha? It would be so wonderful if one could decipher the meaning of “good deeds”. Is it righteousness?

Saturday, 13 September 2014

Craving For An Inert Song



Penned By B D Narayankar

Everyday, like naughty children,
Your memories write something on my chest


Can it not be 
That someday nothing happens

And I throw myself into the bed
And remain cool, serene for a night
Like a song lies inert after being heard
Just still, at  rest.



Tuesday, 9 September 2014

In Search of An Elusive Love



Penned By Narayan-Chandra Rauf

All night the flame of separation has burnt

If any hope is left it is only
Like the yearning 
Of a jilted boy for an elusive love

Saturday, 6 September 2014

The Saga Of Love: Yeh Mulakat Ek Bahana Hai

 
Yeh Mulakat Ek Bahana Hai...
 
 
 Yeh mulakat ek bahana hai, pyar kaa silsila purana hai
 
 Dhadkane dhadkano me kho jaye, dil ko dil ke karib lana hai
 
 Mai hoo apne sanam kee baaho me, mere pairo tale jamana hai
 
 Khwab toh kanch se bhee najuk hai, tutane se inhe bachana hai
 
 Mann meraa pyar kaa shiwala hai, aap ko dewata banana hai
 
 
Translation By B D Narayankar 
 

This meeting of ours is an excuse
The saga of love is old

Let the palpitations be lost in heartbeats
Let the heart be close to the heart
The saga of love is old

This meeting of ours is an excuse
The saga of love is old

I am in the arms of my beloved, 
The world is at my feet
This meeting of ours is an excuse
The saga of love is old

Dreams are fragile than the mirror (glass)
They have to be cushioned from shattering

The saga of love is old

This meeting of ours is an excuse
The saga of love is old

My heart is the shrine of love
I want to make you my God

The saga of love is old

This meeting of ours is an excuse
The saga of love is old

  
 Watch The Number From The Film