Hari and Veena's story

 Just as he sang for the first time in the morning,

The sun came out to greet him,

The whole of Ganges danced on his tunes,

And the gentle dance witnessed by one and all,

The non believers embraced faith,

And the faithful chanted Hari hari bol,

The river prayed may he forever sing,

And on a gentle boat, a woman named Veena fell in love with him.

Such are the songs of love,

No one knows where do they began or end,

They met in the bylanes of Kolkata,

Hari and Veena,

Like a simple poem completing for the first time,

Voice of Hari and the soft strains of Sitar,

It was another world, their little world,

And hari fell for Veena ,

The River ganga rejoiced,

And the sunset bloomed with golden colors,

When the two shy lovers met,

But time is a real teacher,

Hari couldn't choose the fight,

To fight for his country,

Or to fight for his love,

The strains of sitar wept softly in the night,

As hari left for strange lands,

Veena heartbroken, her Calcutta empty without Hari,

She started learning to play sitar,

Slowly, stumbled, halted, as she played,

The years passed by and the war over.

She waited for Hari and the streets of Calcutta stood empty as ever,

Every footstep, every letter and every knock on the door,

Opened and closed her heart's door.

She stayed in a free country, but how can one be free from the ones they always love.

The years drew by, and she waited,

She waited no more, for the time waited no more for her,

As the lonely songs of a lover are sometimes heard at the sunset by the ghat,

The lonely sitar rests longingly by the blue door,

Waiting for Hari to come and knock at the door.

Comments

  1. AnonymousDecember 19, 2021 at 11:46 PM

    Wow...eternal wait is the thing that has kept Veena breathing

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Thoughts & Review on- Pinto has an idea by Rajeev Saxena

Thoughts & Review on- Pinto has an idea by Rajeev Saxena I am reminded of our young canteen employee, while writing this review. He is a well educated individual, albeit doing a job way below his qualifications.However, unknown and sad his circumstances might be which forced him to take up this job, you can see his ingenious skills in the way he washes the cups, saucers, hangs the kitchen towels to dry, etc. His tea making skills might need a little more practice, but his "jugaad" skills are definitely being put to good use. "Pinto has an idea" by Rajeev Saxena is story of a boy named Rajat Srivastava poplularly known as "Pinto" by everyone. It starts in a small town Atrauli in UP, where Pinto a young innovator, sets his curious mind to solve everything in his life. His first invention being a tool on how to remove the kernels of a corn successfully. This little idea germinates the seed of inventing things in life to make day to day living easy.
Read more

Now a woman is a poem...

Now a woman is a poem... Now a woman is a poem, and a man a complex web of words, A woman is a different season every day, and a man at times a calm sea and sometimes roaring waves. A woman is a poem, a beautiful, carved, shapely limb of a tree, a swaying leaf in the wind, or a piece of satin scarf drying on the clothes line. A man is a novel, a premise to be understood and followed, A pipe or a cigar or perhaps a hat, His shadows, his wants and his ambitions. A woman is a poem, filled with oh so few words, simile here, metaphor there, mostly an irony and a master in euphemism, A man is a novel, filled with infinite words, infinite possibility, limitless dreams, and grinding failure. You don't make love to a novel, You make love to a poem, You keep it beside you, perhaps a crumbled paper, hidden in a wallet, an anthem for someone or someone's slogan a vow at the wedding or a sombre word at the funeral.. But a novel at times is so much more, a
Read more

Burden of being lovers

 The burden of being lovers Rita stood near the gas stove, waiting for the dal to cook, Her husband languorously sat on the sofa ,waiting for the sms, Their daughter avni waited for the first move from the boy she liked.  The burden of being lovers, It haunts us at the loneliest times , In the crowd,  At the bedside when it's 2 am in the morning In the kitchen when the cooker's whistle blows, it brings Rita out of her memories, In the living room, where her husband wakes up from a mental nap of dreams, Their daughter Avni when she watches a movie while thinking about someone else. This burden of being lovers, The precious time spent thinking, Anticipating, waiting, expecting,  Manipulating our own mind with thousand of thoughts, Why we aren't lovers like before, Rita questions her husband in her mind, Because we are parents, Her husband calculating the installments in his head, The only respite he sees now is the extra bonus, Avni worships the mobile and says a prayer in th
Read more