FULL FILE: RECOLLECTING OBLITERATED
VINCENT VAN GOGH
AUTHOR SPEAKS: KAVI ANURAG
********************************
IN CONTEXT OF THE POETRY BOOK 'BHULA HUA SA YAAD KUCH' ' (RECOLLECTING OBLITRATED')
****************************************************************
The world is rich with many great artists who are remembered for providing new heights to art, on dint of their original, distinct skills. But Vincent Van Gogh holds a distinct status. He is remembered as much for his contribution to Painting as for his sacrifice and dedication towards Art. In spite of sufferings, agony and failures on every step pf life, he was always associated with colors and canvas, even during his lunacy. Not even for a single moment, he nurtured any doubt for Art.
His craze for art provides energy and vigour to the artists even in present times. This attribute makes him distinct from other artists and this is a testimony to his dedication that he lost everything, even life in the end-- but did not leave colour and canvas till last breath.
This great artist was born on March 30, 1853, in Groot Zundert, in Holland. He was the eldest among his six brothers and sisters. His father Theodores was a Priest and his mother a very sweet natured lady, with aesthetic attributes.
Vincent was a special child since childhood. Due to his solitary and shy nature, he seldom played with other children. Often, he wandered in fields all alone. Any special record of his Schooling is not available. He studied till age of thirteen in school of his village. After that, he was sent to Zeven Bergen Boarding School, fifteen miles far from his village. He had never been apart from his mother. So, parting from home was very taxing for him. Due to his shy temperament and inability to make new friends, loneliness haunted him. After two years, he was transferred to Tilburg. Finally, he was removed from school as he was very weak in studies. But, he was weak only in curricular studies. Besides, he studied other subjects a lot. From the letters written by him to his brother Theo, it was revealed that Religious books, Philosophy, fiction and poetry were his fields of study. He used to say that in order to become a good artist, it is mandatory to study all subjects.
After dropping studies, his uncle managed a job of 'Soaping Agent' for him in a painting shop. Impressed by his work efficiency, he was transferred to Landon. At this point, life of tragedies and struggles started for Van Gog. In the rented house in Landon, he came across Ursula, daughter of land-owner. For Vincent, in the prime of youth, it was his maiden experience of love, but it remained a one-sided affair. He got nothing from Ursula except disrespect and insult. Failure in first love shattered his life. He could not recover from this blow, throughout his life.
After this episode, he returned to his native land, Holland. Now, it seemed impossible to him to live without Ursula. So, in 1893, he came back to Landon. But, after Ursula turned him back, insultingly, he secured job of a teacher on honorary basis, in a private school, at Ramsgate, a little far from Landon. Only accommodation and food facilities were available over there. To remain at a close distance from Ursula, it was expedient. Just to catch a glimpse of Ursula, every Saturday, he went to Landon on foot, due to lack of funds.
After sometime, that school got shifted to Landon; Van Gogh was assigned task of collecting fees from children of slums. It was first chance for him to view city life of miseries and deprivation from such a close distance. He could not collect a single penny from them after seeing their plight. Spiritual inclination suppressed within him, rose. After Ursula's wedding somewhere else. he bade farewell to Landon permanently and moved to Amsterdam to become Spiritual Mentor. To fetch peace in life of desolate masses and to lead to self-identity was aim of his life now. Due to his lack of perfection in art of delivering speeches, he was unsuccessful several times; but he believed that true service lies in serving people, not in indulging in religious discussions and sermons.
From Amsterdam, he shifted to Coal mines of Boerne in Belgium to become a Christianity Religious Preacher. People over there were leading a very miserable life. Condition here was worse then slums of Landon. He totally dedicated himself to serve them. He fully adopted the message of Christ 'Give to the poor'. He gave all his possessions to help the poor, even his clothes. He started living with them, starved and half clad. Seeing his passion for religion, his senior officials were dumb-found. He was dismissed on the plea that how can be he a decent Priest in such a status of labourers. For two year, he rigorously served them, starved and with unquenched thirst. He lost his health while serving masses lie this. At this juncture, his younger brother Theo helped him a lot and took good care of him.
A new resolution sprouted in him, after getting acquainted with life of miners. He recognized the artist hidden within him. After returning to his village, he dedicated himself fully to pursuit of art. He was moving speedily in field of art. During this phase, his distantly related cousin sister K, Wash stepped in his life. After break up with Ursula, he tried to retain a composed mind. This affair also proved one-sided. 'K' rejected him. Due to this episode, he faced some differences with his father. Annoyed father evicted Vincent from home. Leaving home, he moved to Hague. Van Gogh was in grip of all sort of trouble. All were annoyed with him. In such a condition, only Theo was with Vincent and remained with him on every step life-long. He was like God to him. Such brothers are only exemplary in life. Theo started sending him a fixed monthly allowance and sent it throughout his life. Due to this support only, Van Gog could devote whole-heartedly to Art.
In Hague, away from home, he was feeling very forlorn. In such a situation, he got acquainted with 'Sien' who was a whore. He started visiting her. Very soon, this relation turned into love. Both started to share same roof.
Survival of Vincent was dependent on money sent by Theo. Now, burden of household and expenses were getting beyond him. In spite of meagre financial resources, he managed operation of Sien and took care of her. By and by, due to financial hardships, both were getting on bitter terms. Under such circumstances, Vincent planned to settle in another city Drenthe. Cost of living was cheaper there. But Sien imposed a condition of sending her 150 Francs per month towards household expenses. For Van Gog, bread was never a priority over colours and canvas. He could not compromise over it. Consequently, he had to part with Sien as well.
In 1884, he re -settled in his native village. Over here, he totally absorbed himself to Art. In early morning, he moved to fields with canvas and colours. In this period, he particularly portrayed life of farmers. In 1884, after demise of his father, leaving Holland, he moved to Paris.
Under pressure of circumstances and constant failures, he became eccentric by temperament. He started having momentary fits of madness. Now, leaving Paris, he moved to Aalars, situated in South of France. The Sun shines very brilliantly over there. He was very fond of painting the Sun. With utter dedication , he indulged himself in pursuit of Art. Here, for the first time, he realized the Divine Bliss of Art. Over here, he became familiar with Rachell, a bar tenderer. One day, just in a jovial mood, she said to Van Gog, ''Your ear is very attractive". One night, Van Gogh cut his ear and gifted it to her. She fainted on seeing this. She had never cam across such a craziness.
Due to heat of the Sun in Aalars, his fits of madness started increasing. He hot admitted into an Asylum himself. He was afraid that he might lose his art due to these fits. His madness had a different trend. He faced fit of madness after every three months. Surprisingly, his attacks of madness did not leave any impact on his art. He made many paintings during his madness. During 1889, he did approximately 200 canvas.
Due to deteriorating health of Van Gogh, Theo left him in care of a Doctor. He constantly did paintings over-there. In 1890, he visited Paris to meet Theo. At that time, Theo was facing financial crisis, as his only son was sick. Van Gogh was grieved to see this. His mental condition worsened. He came back Aalars. After this episode, he thought of putting an end to his life. It was not an abrupt thought, but had entered his mind by and by. Failure on every step of life---failure in love, failure in profession, failure in role of Priest and failure in art, for sake of which, he had left everything. He even put his life on stake; even then unsuccessful. Above all, deteriorating health and madness. He felt that why he is causing so much discomforts for Theo for his sake of himself, whereas, his work in field of art is accomplished. It was July 27, 1890. With intention of committing suicide, he moved towards fields with his revolver. After thinking a lot, he shot himself on chest. In blood-shed condition, he returned to his room. He remained in same condition overnight. Next day, his Doctor got him admitted to hospital and informed Theo. Next day, when Theo reached Aalars, Van Gogh was still breathing. He was in his senses. Both brothers conversed a lot. On July 29, 1890, Van Gog breathed his last in arms of his dear brother Theo. The great artist departed from this world at age on 37 years only. Theo could not bear this tragedy. He lost his senses and six months after death of Van Gogh, departed from this mortal world.
Whatever, I have narrated is not a topic of history. This Poetry is an attempt to fathom depths of heart of the poet. He moved to fields with revolver in his hand on day of suicide. What was going on in his mind. What feelings were rushing in his mind--whom did he miss. Then, he survived two days after bullet-shot. Theo who was the most dear to him, reached him in his last moments and they were lost in reveries of childhood. Especially, five persons were most significant in his life--Theo, mother, Ursula, J and Sien. He recollected his whole life in pretext of them.
This Poetry is a humble attempt to portray emotional upheavals and mental condition of last three days of life of Wan Gogh.
I am not able to ignore last episode of this writing process. The main obstacle in completion of this Poetry book was non-availability of collection of letters, written by Van Gog to Theo. I was not able to secure these letters, in spite of o many efforts. I went to Delhi, Jaipur and many other places. Explored many great book fairs, then, contacted Holland Embassy and postal communication with Holland Van Gog Museum as well. Finally, had some discussions regarding it with Great Literary Icon, Dr. Nand Kishore Acharya. Moving back to memory lane, he said that he had one such book. He has purchased in Delhi, long ago. And one bio graphical novel 'Lust for Life 'in Shimla. He promised to try and find. Sparing his precious time for me, he managed that Collection of letters for me and provided me an opportunity to re recite these poems to him, after composing the book.
Famous story writer Mal Chand Tiwari stayed with me for two days and evaluated the manuscript. I am heartily obliged to him for his support and affection.
If my words are able to express will-power, dedication to art, anguish and sufferings of the great artist, through my this Poetry Book ' Bhula Hua Sa Yaad Kuch' then, I will deem my efforts to be successful
Anurag
Sardarshahar
July 1, 2005
PRELUSION
RECOLLECTING OBLITERATED
After soulful thanks to Almighty for His choicest blessings for successful completion of 'Recollecting Obliterated', my trans-verted Poetry Book from Hindi 'Bhula Hua Sa Yaad Kuch' composed by Kavi Anurag, into English, I would like to extend my heartiest thanks to global readers for constantly devouring my all literary works.
The purpose of
translation is accomplished when it becomes a means to create bonds of affinity
through soulful expression as well as picturesque effect of words. It
makes the world stronger for the true goal of peace, equality and bliss.
' Recollecting
Obliterated' is my transversion of Hindi poetry book 'Bhula Hua Sa Yaad
Kuch' of Literary icon, poet, artist and music composer Kavi Anurag. Another
feather added to his cap is that he is a Spiritual Mentor. His poems are tinged
with spiritualism and hidden mysteries of life. In his prophetic tone, he
expresses his views. He is a seer who speaks less, but conveys a lot.
The Poetry
'Bhula Hua Sa Yaad Kuch' was composed in 2006 and gained wide popularity among
Hindi readers. It is based on life history of world famous Dutch artist Vincent
Van Gog, whose talent remained unknown to world in his short life span, but
touched heights of popularity after his demise. Poet Anurag studied a lot about
Vincent Van Gogh, before composing Poetry-book on him. He explored diverse
sources and even accumulated knowledge about him from reliable sources like
Holland Embassy and two bio graphical books composed on Vincent several years
ago.
While composing the
poems, Poet Anurag placed himself in shoes of Vincent and thus realized depth
of his emotions, struggle, failure, dejection, pathos and anguish. Poet Anurag
is a good artist himself and knows very well what dedication to art means. The
picturesque effect in his poems has its origin on his own association with art
and poetry. His poems beautifully express depth of love, beauty of nature,
bonds of association and pangs of separation in a very simple and lucid
language, that stirs our emotions, provokes our thought process.
I deem myself lucky that
he approached me for trans-creation of his Hindi Poetry Book into English, so
that it gets a wider approach transcending geographical boundaries and reaches
to voracious readers on global level. After going through the poems, I could
not stop myself from translating these poems. It stirred my emotions. I would
be immensely pleased if this book strengthens bonds of literary and cultural
affinity world-wide.
I hope, you will enjoy these poems; reviews and comments from voracious readers of poetry are always a precious treasure for me.
Lastly, I extend my
heartful gratitude to the Publisher and his entire team for so
aesthetically crafting my dream-book into reality.
Rajni Chhabra
Multi-lingual Poetess & Translator
CONTENTS
URSULA
In that Infinite
Reveries
On Being Awakened in Morning
Tree in Orchid of Ursula
Anguish
Sensation that I was Devoid of
Your Touch
On Hearing Knock of Death
After Your Departure
On Bank of Thames
In the Church of London
I was Desert
Lips are Still Parched
I can not be Non-existent
Sunshine of Waiting
Like the Sun of Aarlas
K.WASH
Existent after Non-existence
That Sensation
Death-like Wait
My Name
To Assume Form
Could not Attain
Reveries
Longing for Identity
I am Non-Entity
Refuting
SIYEN
In the Witness-box of Life
Eternal Sensation
Lust: Life
Condition
Gypsy
Parting with One
Misery
Only Dreaming is not Enough
My Sufferings
If Any Misery?
CORNILIA
No Return is Possible
Recalling You
Evicted- Homeless
Grace of Mother
Anguish Diffusing in Every Breath
Hazy-Misty
In This Moment of Death
Bed-ridden in Hospital
In This Moment of Death
Except This Path
THEO
LIPS ARE STILL PARCHED
*************************
You landed in my life
Like a river
Taking along my life
In rhythmic waves
You directed me to
Infinite path.
When I peep
Within me
A view
Wide stretches of desert
God knows, when you were consumed
But
Lips are still parched.
******************************
Nay
I can't be non-existent now
In any way
Interwoven threads
That have been created
By your love
Even if I shatter
Myself into tatters
Even then
Broken threads will persist
Even if intended
How can that
Remaining be unalive?
SUNSHINE OF WAITING
************************
Wandering in streets was
Better than
Verbosity of this city.
The solace
Under this ceiling
Fails to match
That prevailed
In sunshine of waiting.
LIKE THE SUN ON AALARS
*************************
Once who had showered
Like life-giving cloud
You are burning like
The Sun on Aalars
Snatching life.
K. WASH
EXISTENT AFTER NON EXISTENCE
***********************************
Holding myself in my hand
I am prepared to diffuse myself
On the banks of life
A mist is landing
Deep inside me
In which
Everything is getting invisible.
When I will be non-existent
Will nothing else remain?
Not even love?
I conjured whom at the cost of my life
Or due to this only
Death is standing hesitatingly
In front of me?
THAT SENSATION
*****************
I had a notion
Death erases
Everything
But, today
I am observing
Death is as helpless
Confronted with that sensation
As life
Confronted with death.
DEATH-LIKE WAIT
********************
Presently
There is no breath
No hope
Something like ember is
Burning inside me
Not to think of
Cooling down of
Burning sensation of eyes
Eyes are not getting watery again
Edges of eyes get dry
Even before getting drenched
Only!
Cold death -like wait
Is halting in my eyes.
MY NAME
***********
In fluttering of
Those lips
A few alphabets
That created my name
With paint-brush of vacuum
On canvas of azure
Innumerable rainbows
Twinkled
God knows
What was the secret
In quivering of those lips.....
TO ASSUME FORM
******************
Even after light being diffused
On the other side
Of the palm
This flick of earthen-lamp
Could not convince anyone
About my love
One has to bear pain
Of being cut
After that only
Any form is visible.
Only this fact provides solace
Moments of getting scattered
Might be a stone only
It faced cutting
To assume a shape.
*******************
Might not be this much
Even if
I had keenness of
A stone statue
Even then, for me
Something would have been possible.
REVERIE
A reveries is
Deep rooted
Like a thorn
Needle of time
That used to scrape
To dig it out
Now, itself has
Sunk deep
Like pointed thorn.
LONGING FOR IDENTITY
***************************
I remained less significant
Then a name scribbled with
Chalk-powder
On a wall.
Longing for identity
Whiteness that clung
With the fingers
That--was washed away.
Now, myself
Only remnant
In the frowning colony
Sometimes stagnant,
Sometimes flowing water.
I AM NON-ENTITY
*******************
Cool breeze of dreams is
Caressing me again
The paths that
I could not tread
Or dare not walk
On every that path
I have walked
Untiring
But now, there is
Hardly any difference
In moving or not moving
And failure to muster courage
Because, now only mind
Only dreams are remaining
I am not existing
Anywhere.
REFUTING
***********
Evening
Behind curtain of mounds
The Sun
Perplexed with
Utter silence
Lethargic Coconut plants
Withered crops
Till distance
Desolate pathways
Dried paint-brush, gloomy canvas
Today, all the halos are invisible.
SIYEN
1, IN THE WITNESS BOX OF LIFE
******************************
Today, I am viewing life
With the vision of death
In the oriel of past
Emerges
Like face of Mariam
Tearful
Compassionate
Quivering face
Making me stand
In the witness-box of life.
2. ETERNAL SENSATION
*********************
World
An eternal sensation
Only, after ascending and descending
In this flow
I could realize everything
The way, this world
Made me fall
Due to that only
I could feel
This eternal sensation.
3. LUST: LIFE
************
Lust leads to miseries
This is gist of all religions
But, the truth derived from
The night that I spent with you:
Lust only makes life condimental
Lust leads to misery
But, lust only brigs fervor in life
Then, without misery
Can we even imagine life?
4, CONDITION
************
I remained a trader only
Put everything on stake
I failed do only one deal
And you imposed
That very condition only.
Though
You were well-acquainted--
I can subsist without food
But, not without colours and canvas
Even then
If I am guilty
Who is to be blamed for it?
5. GYPSY
*********
You!
Though
Could not accompany me
Till far
The path was of such a kind
Above that
So narrow that
In spite of willingness
Nobody could move along
You are not to be blamed
Who could
Offer protective wings to a gypsy
And even if moved along
Till what point?
6. PARTING WITH ONE
********************
Shine of this
Ruined house
Can be restored
But the colour
That is beyond colours?
Even utensils of the house
That had gained shine
Under impact of that presence
Are lying worn-torn in a corner
Like an exhausted being
I am realizing
Non-existence of one
Can impart negativity
To meaning of life.
7, MISERY
**********
All are well-versed
With the fact
That in this life
Misery is endless phenomenon
Then, who can imagine
End of plight of one
Who had to sell her body
In the end
To cope up with sufferings of life?
8. ONLY DREAMING IS NOT ENOUGH
***********************************
I always wished
You don't become a prostitute
But in face of destiny
We are helpless.
Only dreaming is not enough
That eye is hard to possess
Which can nurture that dream.
9. MY SUFFERINGS
*******************
You could never be
A co-sharer in my grief
That does not imply
I was no body to you
But, you
Never realized it.
But, now happy abruptly
It will be so nice
O, That!
You never come to know
About my sufferings.
10, IF ANY MISERY?
********************
If you are confronted with
Any misery
Even to the extent of point of thorn
Every misery that belongs to you
Give it to me
And all my comfort
Potato, coffee and lip-smacking eggs
Every such petty comfort
That I have come across in my life
You should be in center of that
Not me.
CORNILIA
1. NO RETURN IS POSSIBLE
****************************
Now there is
No option left
I have reached a point
From where
Retreat is not possible
To this door
There is a road to reach
But no coming back from it
O, Ma!
What sort of
Lonely and one-way traffic is this?
2, RECALLING YOU
*****************
Bird
Mangled
Obstructed breath
In such a plight
Recalling you
Fills wings with
A will for flight.
3, EVICTED - HOMELESS
***********************
4. GRACE OF MOTHER
*********************
Probably
I was your most worthless progeny
Still
You sheltered me....
My paintings too
Equally worthless
As your son
That's why
I could love these so much
This grace of mother
I have learnt from you only.
5. ANGUISH DIFFUSING IN EVERY BREATH
******************************************
That anguish
I never let reflect
On my face
Still you are familiar with it
I am dumbstruck.
But now I ponder
Being mother is an anguish
Is any anguish
Greater than it?
Then, how could
Go unnoticed
Anguish diffusing in my every breath?
6. HAZY-MISTY
*************
You
While basking in sun
Weaving threads
Of your shawl
Might be trying
To divert your mind
By engaging
In some sort of activity
So that, you don't miss me.
Still, you might be missing me.
With same intensity------
Getting up
Might be brushing
Ashes from hearth
Or, might be collecting coal
Or collecting grains
To divert your mind
Still. you might be missing me
With same intensity.
After getting exhausted
Performing all these chores
When you fail to forget me
Even after so much indulgence in work
Then, finally, your eyes
Might be getting teary
With my memories
Hazy--misty.
8. IN THIS MOMENT OF DEATH
****************************
At times, freshly baked bread
At times seasoning of vegetables
At times occupied with broom
At other times, hands smeared with flour
At times, creases on your forehead
And at some other moment
A sweet smile
At times, grudging whole day
At times, caressing my hair
With affectionate touch of your hand
Even after I was asleep
Sometimes, you were so fuming with anger
Like vapours of steam
At other times, your eyes were moist and compassionate
Like a drop, clinging to stem of a tree
So many images are coming up
Ma! recalling you in so many diverse forms
This is charity imparted by death.
9. BED- RIDDEN IN HOSPITAL
****************************
Presently
Bed-ridden in hospital
Reverse counting of breaths
Has started
Beyond this unfamiliar smell
I am smelling
Aroma of bread
Baked by you in hearth
I am listening
Sound of ladle moving
In cooking vessel of vegetable
And in the heat of hearth
Your flushed face
I can see clearly
The, I feel
As if you are calling me
To have meals.
11. I FEEL SORRY
**************
In this moment of death
O, Mother! Remembering you
Seems so life-giving
I was not good at anything
Still
In my childhood
After I woke up
In the morning
First of all, you provided me with
Breakfast of bread, butter and sugar
Hiding from all others
To protect me from any mishap
Would take me to Church, after bathing me
With folded hands, having warmth of burning hearth
You prayed to Jesus
For my long life.
I am so sorry
O, Mother! For whom
You prayed!
12, EXCEPT THIS PATH
*******************
One who could not stand
On support of own back-bone
To what sort of creeper
You have given birth? O, Ma!
Above that
The act of
Taking away my breath
Prior to you!
But
O, Ma! Just look at my helplessness
Except this path of death
No other path
Now takes me to life.
THEO
( LAST MEETING OF THEO WITH WOUNDED AND HOSPTALIZED VAN GOG, AFTER SHOOTING HIMSELF )
As if an unknown power
All of sudden
Took hold of my hands.
Momentarily
Due to that
It has been possible to see you
Theo!
If Van Gog is known in future
For his paintings
I will feel pain
How long, people will
Get fascinated by
Falsehood of gold fraises?
x x x x x
When, I had pointed revolver
On me
I knew
It was not only me dying
But after all
How long could I move
Unexhausted
Carrying this burden?
Your eyes were imposing questions
What could be reply to these
By anyone?
x x x x x
I had read
Somewhere in a book
Reference of fraternal affection
May be
It is a myth
Or a fantasy.
And above that--they were divine figures too.
But you are ordinary person
You grew on breast- feed
That was consumed by me
Prior to you.
But, now I am witness, Theo!
To narratives that were skipped by
Pages of 'Satyug'.
x x x x x
On the infinite canvas of time
As soon as a line is drawn
It starts getting erased.
If life is measured by longevity
Then, where is the end?
Where is the satiety?
When, viewing past life
Everything seems like a dream
Small boy is going to school
Holding my finger
At times, carrying him
On my shoulders
I am panting
And on being pinched
One who is crying
Beyond time, is my father now.
x x x x x
Passing through maze of canals
Treading on green pathways
Trees laden with flowers, on both sides
And creepers
Zenith of winds
Energized by their fragrance.
Still persist in my breaths.
x x x x x
Coziness of bed of mother
Built against wall of room
An atmosphere of serenity
Prevailed at night
Body absorbed in slumber
Dreams confined in eyes
Untraced soft sounds in dreams
Now, so loving, so soothing!
x x x x x
During rains
In muddy pits
The shiver of waves on feet
Till late
In rows of trees/ after rain stops
Not letting miss
Sensation of drops
Dripping from leaves
Now, restless cries of cloudless sky!
x x x x x
Farmer ploughing fields
Girls gleaning grains
Across wooden planks for sheltering cranes
From nests in trees
Chirping of chicks for birdseed
And care-taking of birds
Instill in me, motivating chant of life
x x x x x
Nothing comes back again....
Rains in childhood
Clay houses
Under wide spread sky
To keep awake with stars
Stories narrated by grandmother
Neither those eyes
Nor those dreams
Now, on cot of body, fagged days of life
x x x x x
On that fateful day
For the first time
Love had bent a little
Kissing whom,
Wind had started swaying
And I longed to touch
That was beyond touch.
That burning sensation in fingers still persists.
x x x x x
So what
Seeing it in own hands
Smashed?
Love is root of life
Could not get deep rooted in earth
Why to mourn on it life?
All this a deep secret
And love
A secret within a secret.
x x x x x
Yeah, I had written to you
I will love her so persistently
That she will have to come back to me.
Waiting beyond time
Detached from time
I am exhausting, not my waiting
Hence this notion is also dying
That she will not meet any day
Oh! That day is so long, so distant--------
x x x x x
Love becomes so soothing
When love is responded
But how could she realize
This mental agony?
During suffocation
Breath is soothing
But, if you are not able to heave sigh
The, it is so strangulating.
x x x x x
In initial phase of life
I enjoyed
Twittering of birds in courtyard
In front of school
Gave ice-cream to unfamiliar children
Then
Caressed puppies till long
At the turn of alley
Helped a ripe aged woman
In crossing the watercourse
Before she could think of requesting
Placed my full purse
On the hands of beggar
That day
God knows why.
x x x x x
Myself all alone
Could not face
That ebullience
And nobody was there
To listen about my first love
Wandering near Thames
Initially
I learnt to converse with
Trees, blossoms, butterflies
Colour and water.
x x x x x
Waves again
Merged into waves
Then water....
On washed shores
Were left behind only
Some sea-shells
Conches
Pebbles smeared in sand
Some glittering pieces of stones
Erasing traces of foot -prints.
(BOERNEJ -- A SLUM OF COAL-MINERS)
For hundreds, thousand yards
In the womb of earth
Beneath
Suffocation
Perspiration
Darkness
Death
Human-beings that have transformed
Into skeletons
Palms of human-beings
Will God ever decipher
That episode of life?
x x x x x
Starvation
Poverty
Death on every step
Suffocated breath
Every piece of mine
I distribute myself in labourers
Forgetting preaching of Christianity
I hold canvas and paint brush
x x x x x
It is not an issue of personal liking
Colour is reality of scene
That
Converses with truth
Colours overcloud me assuming form of letters
x x x x x
Every expression has
Own colour
Every colour gives birth to an expression
Meaning generates
From colours
Only if apt as words
Colours are not merely for ornamentation
x x x x x
Every object
Has an identity
Whatever throbs inside it
I feel
In my breaths
Nothing seems to me inanimate
After gaining identity.
x x x x x
I view
Scene
Person
Object
In context of its colours.
Innermost cores of any object
I intend to portray in colours
Like an expression
Without symbolism, colours are vain.
x x x x x
In lines
Drawn on paper
A form started emerging
Along with piece of paper
That form started landing in me
Art, merely lines
But how much competent!
For the first time in life
I could enjoy sleep, without any stress.
x x x x x
Perhaps
Due to that rejection only
My identity has
Accepted me.
Whatever had been left
Colourless, plain
I have filled colours in it.
x x x x x
Daily
A new canvas
Same colours
Same paint-brush
But all so distinct
Same truth
Only that much is changed
Which does not rhyme with others.
So many colours in same colour.
x x x x x
A restless call
Internally
Shatters darkness
Distant echo of bells
Unheard
Starts landing in soul
Canvas gets colourful
x x x x x
The deeper
I land in myself
On canvas
A part of mine
Escapes restlessly
Eager to seek identity
Scatters
x x x x x
No bread
No eggs, potatoes or coffee
Empty vessels
Peeping from corners
In spite of being
Starved utterly
Sunken eyes
As if, I had to save
Some colours
For sake of life
My existence depended on it.
x x x x x
Empty stomach
Probed utensils
Even knowing that
These are empty
In rattling of utensils
I hear a taunt
And I remain speechless
Again, I start painting
Unexhausted, whole night.
Again, a new dawn, a new hope.
x x x x x
Your letter-
A new start of life, every time
Encashing cheque
Firstly, I eat to my fill
Then, taking long puffs of tobacco
Move ahead
Sprightly
Oh! The life is so comfortable, but so little.
x x x x x
Inside the room
Outside
Mist all -around
Canvas
Paint-brush
On lamp
Standing still
Like a gloomy vision
Hardly moves out a step
To get out of
Deserted room
When an abstract figure
Restricts movement
Time is again unifying with me on canvas.
x x x x x
At night
During dripping rain
I listen to
Stagnant night
So many reveries
Unify
In rain
Internal and external.
x x x x x
Theo!
Love of Margot
Can not be deemed as love.
That was mutual helplessness of
Two persons defeated in love.
Whose kiss
Enhanced a bit more
Mist of disappointment.
x x x x x
How much defeated will be he
Who got
This defeated being only
For maiden love
Who had been
Forlorn in love.
x x x x x
Though her love
Might be insignificant
Still, it was through her only
That, I realized
Bliss of being loved.
Though pretentious love
Still so plausible.
x x x x x
When she met
She had intensity of
Rainy river
That sways everything with it
But Theo!
It is so strange that
In spite of willingness
Nothing could be wished for.
If that passion does not arise
At any cost, it does not arise.
x x x x x
Crossing rough pathways
I stealthily enter the slum
Carrying canvas on shoulders
Colour stained
Torn clothes
I glance at for a moment
Move ahead
With bowed head
Voices coming from backside
Mad---------mad.
x x x x x
Like wide open horizon
Sad canvas
The Sun is on verge of setting
Birds returning to their nests
River about to sleep
Who is there, to accompany me?
x x x x x
Evening
Utterly exhausted
Amidst thicket
I wash my face in flowing river
Fingers baffle
On the ear that I had cut
God knows, what starts mingling in water of river ..
x x x x x
I longed to hear those words
Once only
In lieu of that
Pointed nails were
Inserted in my ears
After that
What was left that
You demanded
Rachel?
x x x x x
In the mirror
Reflects a face
An ugly face
In midst of ear that had been cut
Hard, prominent bones of jaw
Oh!
I ,too, had been handsome!
Though , people might call me mad,
x x x x x
People deem me as
Impulsive
Mad
Then, why
They expect anything
From me
What is hidden in my heart
Will be surely reveled
But, only after, I am no more.
x x x x x
Hammering in the head
Throughout the night
I wish to hide crouching
Within myself
Coming out in the morning
Ran nonplussed
I wanted to leave behind
My head
In hospital
I placed myself worn out
In hands of Doctor
Like an aborted one
x x x x x
This is not a disaster
This is another form love.
When I have finished my task
Then, why for sake of myself only
Should I, like a leech, keep sucking blood of others ?
x x x x x
Nay, Theo!
What you are seeing now
Did not happen abruptly
I was dying daily
By and by
I was diminishing within myself
Still
Death is so distant from me......
x x x x x
This sheet has been woven
With threads of misery
Depression is the only colour
Left in it.
How to cover myself with it
I die, if I wrap myself in it
And, I die, even if I avoid it.
x x x x x
Like my motherland only
Countless oceans are
Proceeding towards me
To drown me
Wave after wave
Riding on tempest
I have saved very effortfully, till now
My land
Now, what follows next....
x x x x x
I was moving on a track
On one side was
Well of life
On the other side
Trench of death.
One can still survive
After falling in trench
But, Theo!
Who can survive
After falling in well?
x x x x x
Death is inevitable after life.
Then, what is alternative of life?
This is our destiny only.
What else is there
That can be opted for
Parallel to life?
Human-being is so helpless!
That, in spite of wish to live
There is no option except death
So, what could I do?
x x x x x
It is not that
Somebody intended to kill me
But, it happened like this
I had to die.
Only issue is
That everybody is so self-indulged
Nobody comes to know
Who is alive
And
Who has died.
x x x x x
Death will do me a favour
That I will never die again
Endowed with life
But killed in a such a way
At least
The way, I had been killed
Won't be repeated .
x x x x x
Theo! This is not
Suicide
This is revolt of a suppressed soul
So that in its pretext, self identity becomes possible.
O that! You could know
Where I am
There is no earth, beneath me
And, there is no sin bigger
Than my being alive.
x x x x x
I am being pressed
Under pressure of so many sins
That I have not committed
But, I am not detached
So, I myself offer pardon
To me.
I am well aware
How sin hisses
Heart turns compassionate
Agony upturns slowly in me.
x x x x x
The vision is still alive
That can visualize leaf of life
Colour-deprived
Whatever I wished
Wished whole-heartedly
Putting myself on stake
But, when it could not be attained
In any way
I intended to live on air
Embracing the sky
Theo! Earth was not an issue
But, when sky starts slipping
Under your feet
Then, what to do ?
x x x x x
Like loving someone
Whom you don't love
This journey become tougher
Body is obstacle
Breath is bondage
Presently, I am on the point where
Life and death become same
x x x x x
As many times as
I fell in love
I died
And like this
Every time
I had re-birth after death.
But, presently
Only my body is dying
Not me
Not my dream
Not my love.
x x x x x
Can death make us non-extinct
Even after extinction?
Where is body
In dreams?
I could not be dream of any eye.
So, what is difference between
Living or dying ?
Only this much
That, I am my own dream now.
After shattering
Won't be able to see again.
x x x x x
When was I existent
That, I am turning into non- existent?
That Divine love
Once falling in its grip
Can anybody survive?
Though, I did not get life
Yet, I have been gifted with something, Theo!
That even after death
I won't die now.
x x x x x
Death never gets breath
Just as the Sun
Never gets darkness
Only in the darkness within
Death tunes with that only.
x x x x x
Though it is unfamiliar
But still very familiar
Whenever, I lost it
It landed very deep in my canvas
Its tone deepened
In embedded colours
x x x x x
This is not the end
Whatever is worth living
How can it die
Even after death
And whatever is perishable
How will it be beyond the body?
x x x x x
Departing from body
All mingle in One
After immersing in colours
I have come to know
Now
Moving in rhythm
From perishable to imperishable.
x x x x x
Meeting death
After dying in life
This is not as horrifying as
The death that I have been meting
In process of life daily.
Was really
Not a single painting of mine
Worth buying, Theo?
x x x x x
If not a single painting of mine
Worth buying
How can I believe, Theo
That I have created something?
All art-critics on one side
And myself alone
Am I the only critic
Of my art?
x x x x x
I have assumed your shoulders
As my back-bone
With a faith that
One fateful day
I will be able to repay
I am ashamed of my composition
But, God knows why
This faith is not leaving me
Even after leaving
But, I will not survive till that day.
x x x x x
I was probing for something in colours
I can not treat it as my hobby only
Nor was it a pass-time for me.
Now, I realize that
It is not me
Who created
Colours have created me.
x x x x x
Outer glow of every object
Sprouts from inner cores
In outer circumference
The soul wants to manifest
In paintings.
The Sun
That is emitting brilliance
Originally, it is boiling-hot
Apple
As if from seed
Spring of juice will evolve.
x x x x x
On the limitless
Canvas of the Iniverse
I am a perishable colour of a moment.
Whatever will escape from time
Beyond time
That will be mine,
x x x x x
Missing that moment is
The reason of my being
I am due to this
And incomplete without this?
Then, why I existed
To become incomplete?
x x x x x
Theo!
Did I exist
Only to bother you?
I apologize to you
For my existence
Had it been in my hands
I would have never existed.
x x x x x
When did I ever say
That I want an existence
Still, I existed , without wishing
Still, I remained mum
Accepting death as destiny
I was ready to die once
But was my life so merciless
That it scribbled so many deaths for me?
x x x x x
No, my brother
Don't make efforts to save me
To die once again
Even if, I am saved
This time
How will I escape from
That
Which is twitching in my veins
Recollecting obiletrated.
TRANSLATED BY RAJNI CHHABRA
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