The Unadorned

My literary blog to keep track of my creative mood swings with poems n short stories, book reviews n humorous prose, travelogues n photography, reflections n translations, both in English n Hindi.

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I'm a peace-loving married Indian male on the right side of '50 with college-going children, and presently employed under government. Educationally I've a master's degree in History, and another in Computer Application. Besides, I've a post graduate diploma in Management. My published works are:- (1)"In Harness", ISBN 81-8157-183-5, a poetry collections and (2) "The Remix of Orchid", ISBN 978-81-7525-729-0, a short story collections with a foreword by Mr. Ruskin Bond, (3) "Virasat", ISBN 978-81-7525-982-9, again a short story collection but in Hindi, (4) "Ek Saal Baad," ISBN 978-81-906496-8-1, my second Story Collection in Hindi.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

A Poem to Revisit

Today I 'm here to share an old poem of mine, the one I included in my book of poems "In Harness" ISBN-81-8517-183-5 [Published by Writers Workshop, Kolkata, in 2004]. This blog of mine has adopted an address "ramblingnanda" and the poem I'm going to post here is entitled "A Ramble". So, by posting this, what am I going to underscore? Is it that the the blog is my pursuit in rambling? Um, I'm not sure... . Be it as it may, I view modern poetry more as rambling than overflow of muse--where pleasure is to be had even before getting the meaning of the words, lines and stanzas. So says my poem "A Ramble"....

A Ramble




Shouldn’t I have a moment’s respite?

To chart a course, different from those

Of your ordained circuit?

At the permanent set

In the monotonous drama

Enacted every day

For those stultifying hours,

I stand to play a trivial bit

Before the audience captive

And the involved critics.

Now I ponder restlessly: Aren't these--

The robe with its cushion padding,

The spongy flooring, and the felt ceiling —

Keeping me miles away from me?

Under the glare

Of the high-wattage drama,

I’ve been dancing restless

For these countless hours,

Grasping little and realising none

Whose revelry did I join?

How long these twirls, and what for these gambols?

A dream

Has finally descended on me in that hour soporific

A jasmine of distance, swinging in her grace

Chanting the hymns from the freedom epic.

Her poignant look

With its instinctive appeal

Hints at the trail

To a sequestered alley,

My fatigued person simmering inside

Collects a few strands of my spirit,

I just wish to ramble away alone.

I have understood

The sweet whispers of the dreamy woods

Its inviting signals, distinct from miles

Stirs me now to rise in revolt.

Thus I start my escape

On the heels of my unsure steps

Very hesitatingly

In my timid moments;

But going there so close as one would wish―

It needs no petty sidling but giant strides,

I’m sure I can’t ramble my way up to it.



A. N. Nanda






Blogger RITESH SAHU said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

4:10 AM  
Blogger Dr Shaleen Kumar Singh said...

Dear Poet
I liked your poem why not share your poem with us on

12:52 AM  
Blogger A_N_Nanda said...

Hi Shaleen

Thank you for your appreciative comments. I visited your portal and read the editorial. It is pretty scholastic. I also read a story posted there, entitled "Baraat". I liked the plot, but there is a bit of flippancy. However I could not enter your comment coffer.

7:12 AM  

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