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.

Friday, June 18, 2010

In Existence

There are times when one feels as though he is miles away from his muse, too far away to be able catch the rhyme and too befuddled to create anything. The feeling is rather disconcerting, for there's no short-cut to ameliorate it and one cannot wait indefinitely for that favourable flair to flow from his pen. So one should start scribbling something--maybe for filling up the space in hungry waste-paper basket. That's how I thought I should do during my week off at Bhubaneswar. And the result? Um, I don't know what should I say about this. Not great...Yeah, it should be a post for my blog!
If they'd given all they promised, my friends
And if they'd taken all they envied, my foes
If it weren't for those little surprises on my way
What'd have happened to me and my lovely today?

Am I the sum-total of all they've given?
Or should I take them, all I possess,
As the hidden hundred they refused to purloin,
Treating them useless, a heap of garbage?

I'm eager for love, the love that craves
No more than a simple acknowledgement
But how can I return the favours forgotten
And those lovely little blessings in benign silence?

There're people to remind, nay nag and prod
I've loans to repay, borrowed before I was born
I don't believe them but that doesn't matter
Life's a loan to redeem-just a credit register.

What's hidden has more charm than what's seen
And here's the darkness, abysmal and intense
I'm a guide unto myself, heedless and blindfolded
And I'm a moving entity in search of my sweet end.

Yet I'm sprinting a lifetime, alone and restless
The eager million around scanning my speeding steps
They're unaware of my sweet end, a dream unto myself
I just cherish that to survive, the mantra of my existence.
A. N. Nanda





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