Life as it ain't

"I'm not really from outer space. I'm just mentally divergent."

Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

Poem Translations – Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara

Posted by Ronak M Soni on November 2, 2012

The poems are by Javed Akhtar, from the movie Zindagi na Milegi Dobara, and the translations are by me.

Pighle Neelam Sa

Transliteration:

Pighle neelam sa behta ye sama,
neeli neeli si khamoshiyan,
na kahin hai zameen na kahin aasmaan.

Sarsaraati hui tehniyaan, pattiyaan,
keh raheen hai bas ek tum ho yahan.

Bas main hoon,
meri saansein hain aur meri dhadkanein,
aisi gehraiyaan, aisi tanhaiyaan,
aur main… sirf main.
Apne hone par mujhko yakeen aa gaya.

Translation:

This moment flows like a molten sapphire -
Blue silences sahit -
               nowhere is the ground, nor is anywhere the sky:

The rustling leaves, the whispering branches
        tell me, only you are here

                              - only I am,
        and my breathing and my heart's beating.

Such abysses, such shadows,
                     and me... o, just me!

I have learnt to believe in my own existence.

Zinda Ho Tum

Transliteration:

Dilon me tum apni betabiyaan leke chal rahe ho, to zinda ho tum.
Nazar me khwaabon ki bijliyaan leke chal rahe ho, to zinda ho tum.

Hawa ke jhokon ke jaise aazad rehna seekho,
Tum ek dariya ke jaise lehron mein behna seekho,
Har ek lamhe se tum milo khule apni baahein,
Har ek pal ek naya sama dekhe nigahein.

Jo apni aankhon mein hairaniaan leke chal rahe ho, to zinda ho tum.
Dilon mein tum apni betabian leke chal rahe ho, to zinda ho tum.

Translation:

If you are holding your discontents in your heart,
                            then you are alive.
If you are keeping the lights of your dreams in your sights,
                            Then you are alive.

Learn from the gusts of wind to be free,
and Learn from the river to flow with the waves,
Meet every moment with open arms,
and Every second you'll see before you a new world.

If you are holding your worries in your eyes,
                            then you are alive.
If you are holding your discontents in your heart,
                            then you are alive.

Posted in My Own Fiction, Poetry, Translation | Tagged: , , | Leave a Comment »

The Tragedy is That

Posted by Ronak M Soni on October 10, 2011

I am he,
Who has, most,
To live with me.

Posted in My Own Fiction, Poetry | 1 Comment »

Chhoti Chhoti Chitrayi Yaadein (My First Attempt at Translation)

Posted by Ronak M Soni on March 12, 2011

This is from the very pleasing movie Udaan, directed by Vikramaditya Motwane. The poem itself was written by Amitabh Bhattacharya


Transliteration:
Chhoti-chhoti chitrayi yaadein… bichhi hui hain lamho ki lawn par,
Nange paer unpe chalte-chalte itni door aa gaye hain,
ki ab bhool gaye hai joote kahaan utare the

Edi komal thi jab aaye the,
thodi si nazuk hai abhi bhi.. aur nazuk hi rahegi
In khatti-meethi yaadon ki shararat jab tak inhe gudgudati rahegi..
Sach.. Bhool gaye hain joote kahan utaare the
par lagta hai ab unki zaroorat nahi…

Translation:
All the little shreds of memories that are scattered on this lawn of stolen moments:
My feet have walked on them for so long
That they’ve forgotten where we left our shoes.

My soles were soft when we came,
And they are somewhat vulnerable still;
And indeed they will stay that way
For as long as the pranks and games of these bittersweet memories go on
Tickling them.

It is true,
We’ve forgotten where we left our shoes,
But now it seems that we don’t really need them.

Posted in My Own Fiction, Poetry, Translation | Tagged: , | 5 Comments »

Poems of Limerence

Posted by Ronak M Soni on December 16, 2009

No one probably knows what limerence is so here is the wikipedia article. I’m only dealing with a narrow band of limerence, as it is possible that the other symptoms do not manifest.

Limerence

Desire without love.
Depression, and euphoria.

Depression, about us,
from life.

Euphoria, about us,
from dreams.

what went around

He followed me around.
I’ve
followed her around.

I got angry.
She
got angry.

Two months in,
It burst out.

Life Without Limerence

Purposeless bliss.
A lack of euphoria,
But bliss yet.
She was all that mattered.
So,
Now,
Nothing does.
I’m a zombie,
Tied to life
Solely by responsibility.

I’ll do what I like,
For me
– And only me –
Without calculations
Or games.
My feelings will be independent of her,
My thoughts free of her –
Not devoid, but
Free of her.
My happiest moments will be mine,
Truly
Mine alone.
My saddest moments will be mine too,
Truly
Mine alone.
Hopefully, now I’ll love,
Not limer.
Hopefully, now I’ll love,
Something other than her.

She enters,
My eyes are drawn.
Life without limerence:
Purposeless bliss,
Yet for me to experience.
(It’s declining, not gone.)
She hates me,
But we talk more.
I enjoy the politics.
I enjoy antagonizing her.
Life is fun.
I can’t help but laugh.

Posted in My Own Fiction, Poetry | Tagged: , | 9 Comments »

Too good of a much thing

Posted by Ronak M Soni on November 23, 2009

All constructive criticism/clicking on thumbs will be appreciated.

Why
Is it so maniacally important to you
That I exist?

Don’t you know
Shouldn’t you know –
That humour lies in the breaking of expectations?

Posted in My Own Fiction, Poetry | Tagged: , | 10 Comments »

Child’s Play

Posted by Ronak M Soni on October 21, 2009

This is one of my poems. All constructive criticism – why you like it and why you don’t – will be appreciated (I personally hate this poem, but I’m repeatedly told that it is my best piece of work and that’s why I decided that this would be the first one I posted). At the very least, please click on one of those little thumbs at the bottom of the post. Thanks.

They scatter as I approach –
Half in fright, half in mischief -,
Unheeding,
Untamable,
And lovely:
Lovely in their antics,
Lovely in their wildness,
Lovely utterly in their true, utter, love,
And lovely in my need:
To catch them,
To tame them,
To use them in my Grand Plans,
To mould them . . .
Into works of art –
Plans established, and great,
Bits and pieces come, and lovely too,
But little else true -,
Poems and adults.

For words are like children,
And I’m bad with children.

Posted in My Own Fiction, Poetry | Tagged: , | 1 Comment »