To that little girl I met on Saturday.

(Caption)

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LULLABY FROM PARADISE


It's time to snuggle under the blanket, baby.
And listen to a little bedtime story, maybe.

Years ago, a rare and beautiful jasmine bloomed in hills.
It caught the attention of kings and their drills.

The two kings began fighting for its flowers
But stopped the river flow and killed the lovers.

For all they wanted were flowers and not roots.
They slashed the dolls, and robbed the fruits.

Soon the jasmine tree shrivelled and withered
Around it the wolves cried and snakes slithered

But when a kid like you helps others in need
Hush! The jasmine tree blossoms again indeed.

Child, whisper to the children far and near
That scent of jasmine is still here, still here.

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A father and his son


Old Kusta Gaonkar is a religious man who likes to immerse himself in the worship of God. But his son, Kashi, is the exact opposite. Kashi enjoys eve-teasing village girls and picking fights with other men. One day, when Kusta's friend narrates the story of Kansa, Kusta asks him, "Why didn’t Kansa’s father punish him when he was misbehaving?" His friend laughs and replies, "That’s because a king punishes only the common people, not the prince." Kusta disagrees. But due to a series of unfortunate events, he is forced to decide whether to break faith with his son or not.— % &A Seedling


Vishwanath Belarikar’s younger brother, Shivnath, marries the beautiful Uma, though he shows little interest in family life. Soon after, he abandons his home without a word. Years later, Uma becomes pregnant. Vishwanath plans to have her abortion carried out but his friend stops him. Who is the father of this unborn child who is suffering even before entering the world?
— % &

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Dear Baba,

I couldn't sleep yesterday. I know you will probably tell me that it's because of my excessive phone usage but hey, listen! I couldn't sleep because my neighbour was standing on his balcony and shouting at someone on his phone. After some eavesdropping I figured out it was his daughter on other end. He was yelling in a harsh tone, "Papa mat bulao mujhe. Haan samjh lo ki tere liye tera baap mar gaya." I honestly don't know what trouble his daughter had caused but it made me recall how, only yesterday, I came home with disappointed face and you consoled me like a mother, even cursing those who had wronged me. When I asked you, "why bad things only happen to me?" You replied pointing at the sky, "Because HE is testing you. Believe in him." Well, I don't know about HIS existence. Instead I trust you. Seeing is believing, you see!

Yours
Pinu :)

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THE ENCHANTER

In the forest of endless enchantments,
He is seen sitting on the emerald grass
Adorned with purple flowers,
Surrounded by young cattle.

Many ancient poets have written about
The curls cascading like water on his face
And his eyes burning like brilliant flames
But have failed like the appeals of many ladies.

Who is this unworldly and lost man,
Whose mouth inhabits the universe?

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She pulled him closer,
Gently stroked his jacket,
Inhaled his sweet scent
And turned his pages.

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APSARA

Her mercurial eyes change their hue
From velvety sadness to mischief.
She gathers

the fallen saree from
The nest of dreams of Indra
And drapes it all around her
Soft flesh and skin.

The honey dripping down her legs
Becomes the earth after rain and when
She walks with the swiftness of cheetah
On the streets of sweet nandanvan,
The necks of all gods tilt in her direction
And then turn again

As if nothing has happened.

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Your touch, was enough to make my mind dance
Incessantly, like the way the peacock dances
In the ever falling drizzle, as if there is no ache.

Your touch, was enough to make me gasp
With a surprise, like the way flowers do
When butterflies sit on them, as if it is no routine.

Your touch, was enough to make my heart flutter
Like a sunbird, when he spots another one
On a lonely afternoon, as if it is his serendipity.

Your touch, was everything I could have asked for
Like the page who is spotless before, but becomes
More expressive after ink, as if it is her destiny.

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पावसानंतर...


जेव्हा पावसानंतर ओल्या मातीचा
चिंब चिंब सुगंध हवेत दरवळतो
तेव्हा अजाण कवी चांदण्यांचा आस्वाद
घेत आपल्या वहीवर कविता रचतो,
भिजलेल्या पक्ष्यांसारखी अनाथ मुले
आधारवडाखाली जमा होतात,
राजाची साखरझोप मोडून तो
आपल्या प्रेयसीला जवळ घेतो,
तेव्हा शेतकरी अंबराकडे पाहत
इंद्रदेवाचे आभार मानतात आणि
तोच इंद्रदेव फाटलेल्या कपड्यात
रस्त्याच्या बाजूला कूस बदलून झोपतो.

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