Personal Diaries- ‘Dancing Sane’

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Something you seldom  get to see,                        

A sober responsible me,

Saving my ass, voicing righteous,

The ‘should n’ should-nots’ in chorus,

But every second summons me myself,

Lures me pathways to perdition,

Roadways to beautiful destruction,

Someday I’ll be done with debts to the seed that bore me,

Sharpen my ears and sniff my way into the woods,

Towards those faintly audible chants of poetry,

For the dragon within roars enraged imprisoned,

Scratches my walls of flesh, spits fire, burns me, bleeds me,

I hear loud ceaseless screams, “Your only morphine is Enlightenment,

The rest isn’t for you to gain,

You dance Sane, you earn Pain,

On soils richly aesthetic,

Stands your warehouse of verses for the world to cherish,

Don’t leap for all that isn’t meant for you,

You’re only a devil born to create and perish,

Your pretense shall soon fail, towards the End,

A Hungry Creator shall scurry naked again…”

Debaroon’2013

 

Image Credit : http://lightworkers.org

Thus Spake The Koh-i-Noor!

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In me shines this unworthy world, crystalline,

When I rose, dropped out of the fool’s hand,

Rubbed off his dirty palm in that Kollur mine,

Thus began my journey to change royal fates,

Desired me every eye, I was an emperor’s richest conquest,

Ringed fingers rubbed me in silk,

Brighter than the Sun shone his sight,

Devoured me his vision, rolled the chariot,

Into the fortress of Golkanda, past cannons on the guarded entrance,

The stone’s fatal when eyed with lust, a witness River Krishna watches by…

 

On each prism, on every beaming face of mine,

Reflections of greed and sins reside,

The Mughal touch doubled my worth,

I defined beauty for them, its truest shade to live for and die,

From Gwalior in the shadow of bloodthirsty swords,

Strode my destiny, protected by a thousand heroes,

On the sea of silver and gold was floating then, the Sultanate of Delhi,

Awaiting light in the aromatic darkness of the royal treasury,

Rested the Mughal fortune, now the clan of Babur could sigh wealthiest…

 

A kaleidoscope of arches, cones and balls,

In gold, shone bright embedded colours,

Every feather of the royal bird, a precious stone,

Draws in a universe, that perch in gold,

Ripening fortunes, an empire beaming on display,

Only my inclusion to adorn the royal seat,

Brought into limelight Shah Jahan’s fetish for beauty,

I ruled over rubies, emeralds, diamonds and pearls,

The Mughal lustre was spreading worldwide,

From the day I shone from the Peacock Throne…

 

I’d never seen lust so raw for me,

That desire to possess me, have me to adorn a destiny,

Like that in the eyes of this Persian invader,

The only ones that could behold in me the Mountain of lights,

For me, he had a name, a dream one with the brightest sheen,

Of my desirability jealous grew the Queen,

With the King dead, a new Afghani conquest,

Her Majesty, she might have then understood,

Its tongue hanging out, awaited me the Mountains of Hindu Kush,

The rocky barrenness couldn’t match my grandeur for long,

I was off to a place dressed in silk, exotic enough to have me secure,

Amidst treasures of the British pawn in Lahore…

 

Visitors peeping over the glass,

Just for a glimpse of the cross,

More clear on the Imperial Crown,

A glance of the stone that they’d been told about,

I wonder if they realize the price that I’d drawn from generations,

To own me once, kingdoms have been ravaged,

Kings have chosen to possess me then perish with true salvation,

The powerful has been my slave eternally,

I have been won and lost, lost and won,

Never been used to such prolonged peace

Such helpless eyes craving coward and quiet,

I wonder if this is the most powerful seat,

I wonder if I’ve been won forever,

For years now, I’ve been awaiting an invader,

One that could pay for me with death,

Not fought for any more, now bored immortal, my lustre,

I miss the golden past when life equalled my worth,

Beauty sought action, sparked that fatal desire,

Win me again, make me yours, shed some blood for me,

Let me adorn your land for you,

The Moon shall wear a veil, sons of the Sun shall drool,

I’m bored a display for the timid on a British tour,

I await my knight, another conquest of valour,

I’m the Koh-i-Noor…

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Debaroon’2013

The Koh-i-Noor, (Persian, “Mountain of Lights”), is a 105.6 metric carats diamond, weighing 21.6 grammes in the most recent cut state, and once the largest known diamond. The diamond has belonged to many dynasties and finally, the British.

In 1850, the diamond became part of the British treasury and then, of the British Crown Jewels when Queen Victoria was proclaimed Empress of India in 1877. The diamond is currently set into the Crown of Queen Elizabeth and is on display at the Tower of London.

For more:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Koh-i-Noor

For a chronological  flashback in history:

http://purpletab.com/blog/history-and-origin-of-kohinoor-diamond/

 

 

 

Image Credits:

http://www.cs.hmc.edu

http://geniusart.ru

On Lungs of Desire…

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Shut are eyelids of that ocean of consent,

Awaits the end of those hours black, restless to rise,

Throbs in her depths that urge to blink turquoise,

Boycotted winds blow in strong from the East and the West,

Meet secret, kiss aloud, sands whirl celebrate,

Willfully surrenders quiet that beach at rest,

Footprints of two misfits alight, spot closer to merge,

Then, from both ends of that seamless expanse they converge ,

His drums roll to thuds of her anklets, desire glows red at dance,

While snores their stubborn nemesis to a short-lived trance,

That society under the moist blanket of their city,

Passion rages unbound, in pricked junk spotted arms of that musician,

Clung to his heart feeble and tender,

Blooms the dancer’s wish to set free from behind inescapable bars of gender,

Dreams of acceptance are dreamt, but varies the pace of their fulfillment,

When ready for an unnatural change, for its dripping sour melody,

The dancer switches to medical magic, secretly,

To distort the only definite, the only truth, the human body,

When eyes in the hospital beam to a strange light,

They open up to that junkie, now rehabilitated with a smile,

Gone his rags, now dressed bright and clean,

With his newlywed wife by his side, someone a woman, naturally,

Some vision more pain,

Eyelashes droop again,

A tear stream wedges down curves of the dancer’s cheek,

Cancelled is the vagina transplantation,

Undone shall be the breast plantation,

The ball from the past was a feast for a strange temptation,

Love survived only on unapproved and wishful pumping lungs of desire,

Tides of acceptance hit the beach,

The homogenous voice of the mass in reach,

A welcome with arms wide spread, as it its reception,

The speed freak’s footprint was washed away by that ocean ,

While that of the dancer gazed lonely at the moon, longed another misfit,

Sank deeper, licked deeper salts of exclusion,

That last footprint grew into a Pit…

Debaroon’2013

 

(Inspired from the Bengali film, ‘Chitrangada’ by the late filmmaker, Rituparno Ghosh, one of the most talented directors from the country with 12 National Awards in her kitty.

Chitrangada: The Crowning Wish is a 2012 Bengali-language film written and directed by Rituparno Ghosh. The film premiered on 25 May 2012 at the New York Indian Film Festival. The movie deals with the topics of homosexuality, gender identity and the freedom to choose one’s role in a deeply heteronormative and conformist society.

For more on the movie: http://cliched-monologues.blogspot.in/2013/03/chitrangada-crowning-wish-2012.html)

 

 

Image Credits: http://rhondabuss.blogspot.com