The Blue Boy of Brindavan

What it in individual talent?What the objectivity of art?Personality to impersonality,Subjectivity to objectivity in art,The journey, the progression from it.What is poetry?How is it written?The art of the poet,The technique of writing poetry,Is he going classical?As tradition is carried forwardMaintaining standard and poise.

Free, liberal,Make you it notTurn intoA multi-ethnic, multi-racial countryFraught with communal frenzyAnd riots.

On Mars,The Red PlanetFar and far awayFromThis earthOf ours,Planning forMy next settlementAnd colonyAfter my trystWith here?

Announcing the onset,The awaited arrivalOf the auspicious new year,New yearFull of best wishes and dreamsDancing, rollickingAnd singing,Shaking the bodyAnd thrillingWith thrillersAnd good-feelers.D.J.,D.J.,Itr’s D.j.,D.J. music,The D.J. announcerAnnouncing,Announcing and swinging,turning and turningAnd revolvingAnd dancing, dancing,Taking by surprise.

A story draped in innocence and ignorance.A poet of childish mind and heartMare is especiallyOf wonder and astonishment.

Magar uthaneiwalle bahut kam,Jaraa sochoTumharei parivaar ko kaun dekhegaaAgar tumko kucch ho jaata hai.Do not drink wine, my friend,There are many to make you drinkBut who to lift and raise you,Just think youWhat will it happen to your familyIf something happens to you?

They are the terrorists,The haters of mankind.To shell and bombardTheir vision and mission of life.To fire upon indiscriminately and mindlessly,To go on a killing spree ruthlessly.They are not men, but satanic people,Not men, but the devils in human form.Terror is their religion,Faith and belief as they can never be virtuous.They can never love, will go…

To say it,I love youBut how many of usLove it the heart,The soul,Say You?Say you, I shall not,But you will,How many of usFor true love,How much sincereAre we to each other?As I can see it from hereAnd feel it too,Love is not loveAs the forced smilesOf the modern man put on artificially,Handshaking coldly,Just for courtesy’s…

The divino-religious school of poetry,The ashramite school of poetry.With the ashrama at the helmAnd sadhna the purpose,The school is mystical and religious,Spiritual and divine,Theological and cosmological.The experiences and emotions ofThose of the ashrama and ashramites,Sadhakas, ashramites and disciplesBusy with ashramite rites and practicesAnd routine duties and works.With huts and hemitages, cottagesAnd meditational and conference halls,The…

Appearing and slipping pastInto the bushes,It is really beautiful,Beautiful to see.The golden jackal standing before,Close by,Getting visible by chanceAnd instantly slipping past,What can more interesting than this?

In the mission and vision of life,I do not ask you to be a moral policeman,The local guardian of morality,But at least think you womankind,Writhing under domestic violence and bruises,Flesh trade and woman trafficking,Slavery and kitchen workAnd from these, there is no escape fromAnd above all, the birth pangs intolerable,I mean the creational pangs!

They are not gipsies,The nomadic people,But the Mesopotamian people,The same historic descendantsOf Sumer, Assyria and Babylonian people,The sun-worshippers, the fire-worshippers,The light-burners, the flower-offerers,The Yezidis,The Yezidis of Iraq!