Category Archives: poetry

T. S. Eliot Reads The Waste Land

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If you read the About section of this blog you will know that Eliot is my favourite poet and reading his poetry has been one of those life-changing experiences of mine!

I have these tapes of Eliot reading his own poems which I bought from Amazon a few years back. Finally, fighting all my procrastinating habits I have started to convert them to digital format. So I though I would share them here. This is the first instalment where he reads the entire ‘The Waste Land’.

I. The Burial of the Dead
I. The Burial of the Dead

II. A Game of Chess
II. A Game of Chess

III. The Fire Sermon
III. The Fire Sermon

IV. Death by Water
IV. Death by Water

V. What the Thunder said
V. What the Thunder said

Divan-e Ghalib

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Thought I will share a wonderful, recent discovery of mine – a painstakingly created index of Mirza Ghalib‘s ghazals, with commentaries collected from various sources, presented in Urdu, Devanagari, Diacritics and plain Roman, providing background information, anecdotes etc. wherever appropriate.

This labour of love is the work of Dr. Frances W. Pritchett, Professor of Modern Indic Languages in Columbia University, New York.

Amongst the various anecdotes from his life found on the website was this,

[When the British retook Delhi after the Rebellion of 1857, he was taken before a British officer who asked him if he was a Muslim.] Mirza said, ‘Half’. The Colonel said, ‘What does that mean?’ Mirza said, ‘I drink wine; I don’t eat pork’. Having heard this, the Colonel began to laugh.

And thought I would point out this ghazal. And this one. There’s many more. Start digging!

Ghalib

Society, I hope you’re not lonely without me…

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A hauntingly beautiful song, gives me goosebumps every time I hear it.

The song was written by Jerry Hannan and is performed by Eddie Vedder for the soundtrack of the film Into The Wild. The Sean Penn directed movie itself was wildly beautiful and what made it touching was that it was based on the real life story of a certain Christopher McCandless.
“Christopher Johnson McCandless (February 12, 1968 – August 18, 1992) was an American wanderer who hiked into the Alaskan wilderness with little food and equipment, hoping to live a period of solitude. Almost four months later he died of starvation near Denali National Park and Preserve.”
Oh its a mystery to me.
We have a greed, with which we have agreed…
And you think you have to want more than you need…
Until you have it all, you won’t be free.
Society, you’re a crazy breed.
I hope you’re not lonely, without me.
When you want more than you have, you think you need…
And when you think more, then you want, your thoughts begin to bleed.
I think I need to find a bigger place…
Cause when you have more than you think, you need more space.
Society, you’re a crazy breed.
I hope you’re not lonely, without me.
Society, crazy indeed…
I hope you’re not lonely, without me.
There’s those thinkin’ more or less, less is more,
But if less is more, how you keepin’ score?
It means for every point you make, your level drops.
Kinda like you’re startin’ from the top…
And you can’t do that.
Society, you’re a crazy breed.
I hope you’re not lonely, without me.
Society, crazy indeed…
I hope you’re not lonely, without me
Society, have mercy on me.
I hope you’re not angry, if I disagree.
Society, crazy indeed.
I hope you’re not lonely…
Without me.
Into_The_Wild.jpg

Pink Floyd’s Echoes

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I rediscovered this wonderful song today. It has been such a long time since I heard this one. I think it is one of the most under-rated Pink Floyd tracks ever.

Echoes (Waters, Wright, Mason, Gilmour)
Overhead the albatross
Hangs motionless upon the air
And deep beneath the rolling waves
In labyrinths of coral caves
An echo of a distant time
Comes willowing across the sand
And everything is green and submarine.
And no one called us to the land
And no one knows the where’s or why’s.
Something stirs and something tries
Starts to climb toward the light.
Strangers passing in the street
By chance two separate glances meet
And I am you and what I see is me.
And do I take you by the hand
And lead you through the land
And help me understand
The best I can.
And no one called us to the land
And no one crosses there alive.
No one speaks and no one tries
No one flies around the sun…
Almost everyday you fall
Upon my waking eyes,
Inviting and inciting me
To rise.
And through the window in the wall
Come streaming in on sunlight wings
A million bright ambassadors of morning.
And no one sings me lullabyes
And no one makes me close my eyes
So I throw the windows wide
And call to you across the sky…

Hazaaron khwahishen aisi…

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Thousands of desires such…
Hazaaron khwahishen aisi ke har khwahish pe dam nikle
Bahut nikle mere armaan lekin phir bhi kam nikle

Nikalna khuld se Aadam ka sunte aye hai lekin
Bahut beaabroo ho kar tere kuche se ham nikle

Mohabbat mein nahin hai farq jeene aur marne ka
Usi ko dekh kar jeete hain jis kaafir pe dam nikle

Khuda ke vaaste pardaah na kaabe se uthaa zaalim
Kaheen aisa na ho yaan bhi wahi kaafir sanam nikle

Kahaan maikhane ka darwaaza Ghalib aur kahaan waiz
Par itna jante hain kal woh jaata tha ke ham nikle

Hazaaron khwahishen aisi ke har khwahish pe dam nikle
Bahut nikle mere armaan, lekin phir bhi kam nikle

Thousands of desires such that each one is worth dying for
Many a desire have I fulfilled, yet I yearn for more
Often have we heard about Adam’s banishment from Eden but
Humiliating much more was my leaving your doorstep
There is no difference in living and dying in love
The same infidel sustains our life, for whom we pine to die
For God’s sake do not lift the veil off the Kaaba, my oppressor
Lest the same infidel idol reveal herself there too
How far apart lies the door to the tavern from the preacher’s door
But I know this that yesterday he entered as I was leaving
Thousands of desires such that each one is worth dying for
Many a desire have I fulfilled, yet I yearn for more
- Mirza Ghalib
(Thanks to http://members.tripod.com/~Hoda/ghalib.htm for a lead to the translation.)

Where can one go?

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Something I have written after a long time. Though I am not in the least convinced about its worth, I will post it here for the heck of it!
Where can one go?
There is no haven of peace,
In this disquieting country,
Whose future is unsettled froth.
Foaming at the mouth,
On unknown shores, with
Sand under the feet,
Shifting, slipping.
There is no sanity sanatorium,
In this insane city,
Whose roads are screaming madness,
Winding through myriad desires,
Bursting cleavages,
Winking at passers-by,
Falling, Fallen.
There is no dance floor,
In this unnerving home,
Whose hearth is dying embers,
Drifting from arm to arm,
A chaotic dance,
Which leads to Deliverance,
Gripping, grasping.
There is no state of mind,
In this rejuvenated body,
Whose eclipse is blinding darkness,
Flirting with Death,
The sire of tomorrows,
The pallbearer of yesterdays,
Dying, dead.

Dead near ones

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Something I wrote a long time back… It was published in the online Poetry Magazine.
Dead near ones
Far is just a memory
Of a dead near one,
Who left property,
Disputed by daughters,
Clad in shame
And cursing their mothers,
Whose wombs are furnaces
Where steel is being moulded
Into men of particular hues and shapes,
That dance perfectly and around, in circles
With displacement towards Nietzschian perfection,
In the minds of daughters and wives,
Of dead near ones, safe in the sanity
Of their dying out in the midst
Of life, bubbly and spirited,
And gushing forth from breasts,
Filled with milk of kindness
That feel for steel,
In a way that dead near ones
Do not understand as they are
Unhealthy and drunk
On borrowed whisky
And roaming around in their kitchens,
With knives to cut the vegetable into pieces
That no one would want to eat
Or even taste with their tongues,
That never waiver or hesitate
But talk in a pure sense
Politics, War, Hunger, Peace,
That eludes so many
Dead near ones.