Sunday, December 16, 2012

Red and white

The colourful leaves of the golden sun
Has just landed on the soil of dust ---
As the trees feel the flow of the wind beneath.

The fenced ceiling no longer binds the love
That carries along the soil and the dust!

Far into the horizon, a seed has taken flight
Into a destination, unknown, yet planted;
Where a new life springs and blossoms!

From this land to that soil, the seed germinates
Like a free spirit who needs no fence and no bars!

Somewhere in that land a mother cries for her child
Who lives beyond the borders to feed his home!
Somewhere in this land a brother waits for a Visa
To have his sister around him for sometime!

Somewhere here, moments are stolen through a wired call
Where emotions are expressed by the click of time,
Somewhere there, the notes flow to rhythms of love,
And a tribute to a bard on the beginning of his centenary!

But here and there, the walls adorn with pictures
Of the martyrs and the dead and a strange theory of hate!
Where poets write an epitaph on the grave
And a silent moment spent on their memory!

The seed that germinates, from soil to soil,
From land to land, through the wings of peace
Is now red; while the leaves long to shine in that
Golden sun again!

Rajdeep Pathak
December 17, 2012









Monday, December 3, 2012

Dwindling Faith

A little laughter that we shared,
Those small moments that we nursed,
The fingers that gave us the warmth,
Were now cold – dead!

Silence, I ne’er felt such like before,
In dreams and in thoughts alike!
Now those doors that always smiled,
Were shut – as they pushed me aloof!

I who knitted them with strings of love and care
And twined my hopes with a bond of faith –
All dwindled before my eyes, slowly, forcefully!

Several hours of music o’er glasses of wine
And those cookies that I baked for his friends and mine –
As if in dreams I walked and danced to those tunes
Making friends who burnt my soul!

I sit back at the same armchair where he rested his soul –
Desperate for a drink – not thirsty, yet gasping for a breath;
I painted in dreams of his and mine loved beings,
I knitted and travelled with those threads around,
Each step as he guided me through.

Now they were none to me and to him, who
No longer cared for their baked cookies;
And the music and the wine that never again flowed!

They were now strangers, who behaved
As if we never met before;
Their looks were deceptive run by rules
Tricking me, as they betrayed my love!!

Are they friends? Are they mates?
Or are they time-bound machines
Who run by systems alone?
Structured and planned to control
As they sketch and design their graph
On tables to record the list of files
Of people they roll in their catalog?
Rajdeep Pathak
December 4, 2012

(This poem is dedicated to those people who open the doors of their hearts and house for their near and dear ones. This is also to remind those who betray the love and faith of their loved ones when they need their help the most. Let us not betray the trust of those who love us. )

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Roaring with the Sea of Humanity


Bal Keshav Thackeray, popularly known as Balasahev Thackeray is no more. The 86-year-old – known for his straightforwardness and fierce ideology – breathed his last on November 17, 2012 in Mumbai, leaving behind a legacy that his son Uddhav Thackeray and nephew Raj Thackeray must carry forward. From a cartoonist who left his job – for being denied his due – to a fiery mass leader who never minced his words, Balasaheb stood all through his life for the Marathi Manus. He fought for their strength, weaknesses, development, their life per se and touched the heart and soul of the millions. He never left Maharashtra, but concentrated on the welfare of his state. For the founder chief of the Shiv Sena, (which he founded in June 1966), this was a sense of pride to be with his fellowmen. It was because of this, that Balasaheb was able to nurture the spirit of nationalism amongst the Marathi Manus. His skills as a communicator and his personal relationship with many in the crowd – whom he had perhaps never met before – made him the beloved son of the soil. He rose not only in stature, but the people embraced him and gave him a space in their hearts.

Sunday, November 18, 2012 will be remembered in history as a day that brought the city of Mumbai to a stand still. Many of us who were glued to the television sets never witnessed such a crowd of two million (20 lakh) people before this day. Not even political rallies or any religious sermons organised by self-proclaimed saints can bring people from cross sections of the society in an orderly manner at one place – Chattrapati Shivaji Park (his favourite destination), where the son of the soil was finally laid to rest.

It was pay back time. Many – as the television commentators reported – were not supporters of the Shiv Sena. There were Sikhs, Gujaratis, Bengalis, Biharis and others who had gathered into the streets of Mumbai to catch a glimpse of this charismatic personality, one last time.

What had also made them come out in the streets of Mumbai in large numbers was the very fact that they were there to bid farewell to an honest, outspoken and dedicated ‘Statesman’ who, all through his career represented their identity in the larger spectrum of the socio-political as well as diversified cultural setups. Not only this, he brought their issues to the mainstream politics, thereby making huge impact.

For many of my generation and this generation which has witnessed such a large crowd, this was a rare phenomenon. As I watched, I could visualize the impact Balasaheb have had over his countrymen. Over twenty lakh unprecedented people from every nook and corner of Mumbai voluntarily and dedicatedly participated in this last journey to bid ‘The Tiger’ a deserving farewell.

Historians, journalists and political analysts commented that they were witnessing this huge sea of humanity after many decades. The last time when such sea of humanity had gathered was when the father of the nation Mahatma Gandhi was assassinated and after Prime Minister Pt. Jawaharlal Nehru’s death, news analysts read out the statistics.
One could call it a catharsis, but perhaps for once the critics of Balasaheb would have been stunned into silence as they witnessed such spontaneous, respectful, silent and dedicated tribute by the people of Maharashtra and the Shiv Sainiks to their master. The outpour of the Shivsainiks as they marched with the funeral cortege carrying the body of Balasaheb Thackeray proved beyond any doubt the respect Balasaheb earned from his cadre in life as well as in death.

There was a sense of emptiness. There was a sense of grief. All roads – from Matoshree to Matunga, to Shiv Sena Bhavan – that led to Shivaji Park were symbolic of the personality of Balasaheb Thackeray that united people from different communities. People had not gathered to pay their tributes to a political leader, but they were there for the man called Balasaheb Thackeray, their majhe sahib.

For many others, the death of Balasaheb has brought the brothers Raj and Uddhav together in grief. Would they stand together to continue the same ideology that Balasaheb lived for, will be monitored closely in the days to come. Many things are going to change. But the sea of humanity who joined the last time to bid a befitting farewell to their leader, were there to live the moment. He rightly deserved a State Funeral.

A moment which all will ask and seek answer for – Is there any mass leader today in India? Is there a leader who is so dynamic and fearless?

For a man who dominated Maharasthra’s political stage for over four decades with controversies, criticisms and credit, Balasaheb Thackeray’s death has created a void. How will the Mumbaikar Marathis take his cause forward will be a subject of discussion in the days ahead.

People close to him will miss his wicked sense of humour. They will miss his impeccable style of functioning. The Shiv Sainiks will miss their father figure to guide them and steer them through. The aam admi (common man) of Mumbai will miss his charisma and his concern for their welfare.

Many like us who have watched him through the lenses of the media, would miss his style, his oratory, his effortlessness in hitting out straight without mincing words. He called them ‘bullets’.

Balasaheb Thackeray once said – “The tiger’s wounded but not dead. A wounded tiger springs back. I may be in the cage, but don’t dare to tease me”.

One could well say that “The Tiger” roared the last time with the sea of humanity that kept on growing and growing. Hope his dreams for an ideal nation is also realized.

Farewell, Balasaheb Thackeray (January 23, 1927 – November 18, 2012).


******************

Monday, July 2, 2012

Never...Whenever

I have never slept in your arms
As this, before this night,
As I’ve trod new paths
And waited for dawn to smile!

Playing under the clouds and in
The bosom of the sky above,
I have never felt so free and yet lonely!

I have never been so frightful too!
And I have never been so serene!

I have moved into distance and
Dared to see all of life;
I have been to places that run wild;

In spirits, in tide and in richness galore,
The sunken ship longs for a shore!

I have been there in rains and in
The droplets that was stored…

I have seen the poor little grass that
Have not been allowed to rise,
And the armoured soul that have
Not been spared to blossom
As clipped wings bemoan their life!

In the sand and dust where
I’ve played with your mate
Where time broke rules and stood still,
Where the brook flows with the tide
And where the feathers of love
Tickled the veins!

I have seen your glory and shared your shades…
I have paired with you in ball rooms and
On the dance floors and met you in court rooms!

I have drunk the lustrous wine,
I have tasted the bitter pie;
And I have seen the tears dry!

I have melted in sadness and sunshine,
And I have risen through flames and lamps alike…!

                                                                                       Rajdeep Pathak

Gift of Love

Breaking free from the prison walls
Of life, I play with those colours that
Create waves under the shimmering sun.

I sing for your glory and dance to your music
As your serene notes fill the moonlit night with
Sparkling stars, welcoming the soft notes of Love…

Come into the joyous strings of thoughts
And be with me for a while, as I rest my
Vision upon yours in this hour, as the night 
Crosses distance and time slowly, in peace.

For I’ve loved you and your dark eyes
That captures every glimpse of my self
And takes me into a new journey of life….
With fresh droplets of sweet honeyed dew
Flowing ceaselessly from the lotus leaves!

The moon slowly walks, counting each movement
That binds the stars and the clouds and the eternal
Night, where dreams spread their soft wings, and
Love takes a ride on a winged chariot covered with
The passion of red and white chrysanthemums!

Come fill me with your power and strength for
Your strings and your notes will lead me to kindness
And then will my heart sing the praises of your generosity
As you gift your music to mine!
                                                                                            Rajdeep Pathak

Sunday, June 10, 2012

Strange things happen and because they have no reason, they are fit to be termed as strange. What people say of things or situations or events, need not necessarily mean that they are in actual life exactly the same as people often describe them - many a times without even being aware of the situation.

People also react umimpressively at times even when they are not a party to any conversation. Their language, their mannerisms and their attitude becomes a subject of curiosity and they are often - more than once - called ridiculous.

There are others who many a times engage in silly talk and useless gossip. They just take pleasure in their wasteful and untimely discussions - which cannot be at all called discussions.

Nothing really serious isn't it?

Take care - strange enough!!!

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Journeying into the drunken night


I sing for you the song
That your heart yearns to listen,
I hum for you the tune,
That your soul wants to play!

In this drunken night
As each star play above the roof
Breaking all boundaries of the sky,
Let your voice bring a new life!

Your face that glows in the dark,
Creating circles like the marigold,
Bursting into new journeys – as
Each one to the other…!

Let me take you on this road
Where the moon and the stars and
The wide open sky spreads its
Arms, beckoning us into that song of love!

The queen of night twinkles, tickling
The quilt underneath… releasing the notes
Into new journeys through the soul – breaking free…
Telling tales – one to one – looking beyond…!
Let your soul journey through mine….

The music of the night crosses silently,
Lighting up the hidden lamps of old corridors
Its music creating new notes – one after another
Beads – as each string still hold to the other…

The drunken night still sings as the tune plays
Different strokes at this midnight hour!

Oh! This drunken night,
How do you pass by so quickly?
For, I have loved you so much,
Can I love you any further?

The night’s carnival still sings
As the bosom of life fills each note
With the power of Love!

Life, what do you say?
What notes do you play?
What moves do you make?

Play; play on, as I think of you!
                                                             Rajdeep Pathak
                                                             June 8, 2012

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

DROPLETS

Oh tears! How can you fall so fast
So close to my heart…?
Each drop seems like a vast
Ocean – dried and left barren …!

The vision of the night
Seems to catch a glimpse
Of thousand ships that crossed
Miles and Souls – tearing apart
The last breath of morning dews!

Come closer to my heart –
The pendant has lost its charm,
And wears a dead look; dried,
Fallen off the roots of mango groves…
While the swing – hangs, moves, remains untouched!

For in the waters that sucked
Life and death, rests my soul,
Playing merrily along the tides,
As waves, swirl past my sight!

Narrowed down the widening roads
That crisscrossed each passer by –
The pendant dangles along the way,
Shining and hiding from the worldly eyes!

Smiles of time and laughter of thoughts –
Lost in the crowd and waters alike…
Somewhere in space, sometimes in cries,
Does she find her real ties…!

Can’t you come closer and feel the pulse?
It’s a choice to see the crust of the heart…
The eyes glistening under the clouded sun ….

Oh tears! You’ve become really wild…!

Rajdeep Pathak
March 27, 2012

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Some Passing Thoughts: The Awakening

Some Passing Thoughts: The Awakening: From which door shall I pass –? Each step seems a while – A journey left untouched By clouds and rain drops…! I have crossed many a ...

The Awakening



From which door shall I pass –?
Each step seems a while –
A journey left untouched
By clouds and rain drops…!


I have crossed many a mile
Narrowing roads and turns of life;
Yet it feels like a distant cry
Of shadows and sun alike…!


There’s many in the league of death
Fathomless spirit, and withered leaves –
Bemoaning momentous pride
With simmering and sunken eyes!


Lost in the wild and found in space,
The souls have, but, a journey to race,
The cloak of a clown and life’s mysteries;
Shredding soaked and fuming face…!


Shattered by dreams, woken by surprise,
Songs of the lark, circles in waves,
Twisted and turned, to rhythms wild…!
Fury running into Nature’s heart…

The doors open and close in a closet
With steps moving forward and backward
At the same pace – while I wait
For the one sight to allow me a path,
Crossed by none; as life longs for a new turn!

The cloak of death and the thread of life
Engaged in a tussle over their might;
As I pass through each step with
Night and day; and darkness and sunlight…


…I walk my way through the silent raindrops…!


                                         Rajdeep Pathak
March 17, 2012