‘ Elanaaga ’ రచనలు

I Won’t Remind

సెప్టెంబర్ 2015


Things always keep coming to my mind

The days when you entered like fog
into my heart’s core with circles spread out
and pervaded my world

The paths along which you led me with love-shackles
onto the peaks of ecstatic youth coaxing my
faltering thoughts of tender age’s deluges

The moments when we swayed
in unsoiled enchanting worlds drifting with
fervid passion into unfathomed gorges

Do they come to…
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Again, About a Poem – Afsar

జూన్ 2015


A Certain Incongruity

Word was a paper boat then.
A Titanic it was, revolving
around the world on scanty water

Now word is a broken boat.
A rock figurine unable to move
even when surrounded by oceans

All the poesy became debris
when word dropped to the ground
Now we are only moving amongst pebbles

One may hear an occasional sound
But there are no sounds of breathపూర్తిగా »

A Delectable Torment

మే 2015


A heavy slab rests on heart all the time.
Wedged into the smouldering heap of embers
the soul doesn’t stop singeing
on simmering heat.
Deep in the marrow of bones
the worm of discontent
always keeps biting and squirming
It neither kills nor lets you die
No amount of drinking
halts the unending unquenchable thirst
An unseen torment
of the half filled cup rules…
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The Agony of Soul

జూలై 2014


Wanting to hoist a poem
I opened the window
A loud noise of flowers
emanated at once

The single-pillared edifice
of dream plates collapsed to ground.
With the love smoke of incense sticks
the sky’s throat suffocated.
Peeved at not straining
even a fraction of tear-fountains,
the curry leaf plant in backyard
immolated itself in fire

The highway folded its golden cestus
and flung…
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Two Truths

మే 2014


Like in love
We get wounded in war
Inevitable it is

What difference
Between a teardrop’s stridency
And a blood drop’s tepidity

Everything alike
As the inner heart of a lover

A warrior is
Ever ready to kill

A lover is
Prepared to get killed

It became evening it seems
The sun is washing his sword
And the moon is
Searching for wounds

Origin…
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Something Inscrutable

ఏప్రిల్ 2014


It has been six months since I looked at the sky
All are around…very near
But we don’t care a damn about it…
We keep running for something.
How much time has elapsed
after I halted a bit , looked at the ground and soil leisurely?
Poor birds keep calling me every morning
in heaven’s language from Nandivardhanam tree.
No, I don’t listen to. I bog down…
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A Befuddled Wayfarer

మార్చి 2014


It appears as though everything is known
But the path in the forest never ends
Direction seems perfect
Yet the dinghy doesn’t get ashore
The tracks in desert are not unknown
But no amount of treading
takes you to the frontier
The life of humans is but like this.
It’s an impenetrable jungle
A vast ocean, spread up to the horizon
Infinite sand, stretched to…
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On a River Bank

ఫిబ్రవరి-2014


What’s there on a river bank?
Perhaps a few teardrops left by someone
A few faint quartered conversations
Some abandoned faces of loneliness
Circles of grief furrows in sand.
What else is there on a river bank?

Some arid melancholy blended and soaked
In the rippling sounds of flowing river
What more are there on river bank?

On a river bank there are
Multi coloured pebbles

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Should Have Something Left For Us

డిసెంబర్ 2013


A place, a native town
Or an acquaintance at least
Is needed to frequent on and off

When words shatter and melt
Purports scatter, scare and wilt
And thoughts vanish into distant horizons
A habitation is needed
To learn words anew

When desires disappear, making body a lean stick
Rarefied reflections render heart an empty shell
And every route is shut
Leaving pitch darkness all aroundపూర్తిగా »

The Enchantment

26-ఏప్రిల్-2013


A fluttering song awoke by quickening1
In the radio’s womb and gently spoke;
Onto the smoldering sprightly Maru Bihag2
Did my heart crawl and hug daintily

Notes magical, wafted by the gentle breeze,
Floated like soft petals with gaiety and ease;
Flowing by my side O Music Divine
Oft you pull me and entwine caressingly

 

(Self rendering of my Telugu poem titled Naada Mahima)

1.Quickening = The first…
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