VERSIFICATION (EVOLUTION OF POETRY--3)

“THAT IT WILL NEVER COME AGAIN

 IS WHAT MAKES LIFE SO SWEET”

                            --EMILY DICKINSON

I was passing through a very depressive state. There was a huge lot to study but I wasn’t game. I was bored. The future was beckoning the present to make it. Looking at the old diary I can see I have written 10.45 p.m on December 7. The night must have been cold as is in Faridabad in all Decembers. I must have been trying to study when I wrote this:

THE NIGHT IS DARK,

THE STREET LAMP BURNING

A COLD WIND BLOWS

NOT A SOUL NOW AT SIGHT

THOUGH DISTANT SOUNDS OF VEHICLES

PIERCES THE SILENCE

THEN A TREE CAUGHT MY EYE

STANDING ALONE DECKED WITH FLOWERS

BATHED IN THE LIGHT OF THE LAMP

MY THOUGHTS WANDER AS IN A TRANCE

LEAFING THROUGH THE ALBUM OF MY PAST

I FORGET THE NIGHT AND THE WINDS

TO LOSE MYSELF IN MY THOUGHTS.

I must not have scribbled much in December because the next verses were penned in Jan 1994. Must have felt extremely depressed as I find death wish coming inside my verses-the kind which considers death to be a relieving force or an escape. To make death more attractive I have personified death as a feminine gender which is uncommon in English..:

THE VOICES HAVE GONE FAR

NOW LONELINESS CREEPS OVER ME

WITH ONLY SILENCE FOR MY COMPANY

I WAIT LONGINGLY FOR DEAR DEATH

TRYING TO HEAR HER SOFT FOOTSTEPS

FOR LOSING MYSELF IN HER HAIR

AND TO LET THE DARKNESS ENVELOP ME…..

In spite of the depressions I did have moments of happiness mostly supplied by my memories but what those memories were  I have no idea.The verses also doesn’t mean much and fails to interest me now:

Just the mere thoughts

Of thy glowing face

Lights up the path I trace

The lovely times shared together

I joyously do remember

Fighting,flirting,loving and joking

Just to make the days memorable

I know it is futile to live in the past

But neither can I forget so charming a past.

The next is definitely an under pressure verse. The pressure of exams were on me. So much to cover and so little time:

THE GODS ARE BREATHING OVER MY NECK

I CEASE TO BE WHAT I AM OR WHAT I SHOULD BE

I HAVE LIVED MY LIFE

BUT STILL THE PAST BECKONS ME

TO LIVE IT AGAIN

IT IS A PITY THAT DAYS FOLLOW NIGHTS

AND THE NIGHT FOLLOWS DAYS

I FEEL A BLANKET OF DOOM

DESCENDING OVER MY HEART

AS THE CLOCK TICKS BY……….

The depression continued….But I find some rhyming entering my verses

 I FONDLED WITH CARE

THE GLORIOUS ICONS OF GLOOM

USING MY OWN BLOOD

TO MAKE THE FLOWERS BLOOM

EVEN AS DID GLOOM FLOOD

I LOVED THEM WITH ALL MY HEART

BUT MY BODY PIERCED WITH THOUSAND DARTS

WAS NO LONGER FIT TO HOLD THEM FAST

AND SO I WATCHED MY DARLINGS SLIP PAST

The next verse had a small heading in Latin on it. I don’t remember why I wrote such a heading. I had written “desunt cetera”. I don’t know the meaning. I have searched the net and found it means “the rest is missing”.Cannot recall why I wrote such a name for the following verse.:

 HE WILL COME

WITH LOTS AND LOTS OF LOVE

EMBRACING ME

PRESSING ME TO HIM

WRAPPING A DARK WARM CLOAK

AROUND MY BATTERED SOUL

I SHALL FLY UP,UP AND UP

ABOVE THIS CURSED WORLD WOULD RISE

AND GO WITH HIM TO HIS DARK WORLD

AND MINGLE WITH THOSE TIRED OF TRIALS

Looking back only the last two lines I find readable.  Just beneath the verses I had penned:

THE PAST BECKONS

THE PRESENT SNARLS,GROWLS AND BITES

THE FUTURE BARES ITS FANGS

SHOULD I COUNT UP OR DOWN

Funny……..very funny.. the way the adolescent mind wanders……………..

For satisfying the romantic in my heart……perhaps the increasing vocabulary of my formative years helped me rhyme new words and as was natural for a young boy to write about love as adolescent hormones were searching for ways to attract mates so I wrote:

MONTHS HAVE FLOWN BY

YOUR VISIONS HAVE FADED

STILL MY SPIRITS ARE HIGH

FOR MY LOVE HAS NOT JADED.

                                       LIFE HAS BECOME LIKE RITUALS,

                                      DEVOID OF ANY COLORS

                                        LOST ARE YOUR VISUALS

                                      USELESS SEEM MY LABORS.

IN THE EARLY HOURS OF DAWN

YOU VENTURE INTO MY DREAMS

FOR STROLLING IN THE LAWN

AND SWIMMING IN THE STREAMS.

                             SO REAL THOUGH A DREAM IT SEEMS

                             THERE FOR ME TO TOUCH AND FEEL

                              I KNOW IN SLEEP MY FACE BEAMS

                              AND THE SCARS IN MY HEART WILL HEAL.   

 RHYMING CONTINUED……:

IN MY MIND DID I FALTER,

THE IMAGE IN MY HEART DID I ALTER,

IN MY LOVE DID I FUMBLE,

OR IN MY PATH DID I STUMBLE.

               CAN MY LOVE BE SO WEAK?

               OR WAS MY HEART SO MEEK?

                DID IT GIVE IN TO SOME PASSION?

               WILL THEE BLAME ME OF MENTAL LIASON?

NAY, NAY NEVER CAN IT BE.

NO OTHER FACE DO I WISH TO SEE

THOU I CAN NEVER EVER FORSAKE

AND NON ELSE MY MATE WISH TO MAKE.

In 1996   I received a letter from one of my seniors trying to pep me up …pull me up from my homesickness in the hostel…….I decided to write again….a reply to that letter was as follows……..later I named it NOSTALGIA…..it was as follows:

TRUE THAT I CAN’T LIVE,

IN THE TIMES GONE PAST,

NOR IN MY MEMORIES THRIVE,

WITH THE DAYS GOING FAST.

         YET THE DAYS PULL AT ME,

         IN MY LONELY HAUNTING THOUGHTS,        

         TO RETROSPECT AND TO SEE,

         THE PAST HAVES AND PRESENT NOUGHTS.

FUTILE  I KNOW IS MY LOVE,

FOR THE DAYS GONE BY,

MAY BE ITS TIME NOW TO BOW,

AFORE THINGS MORE HIGH.

                  NO ADVICE DOES MY HEART HEAR,

                  FOR THIS LONELINESS IT CANNOT BEAR,

                  THE PATH I TREAD HAS NO END,

                   BUT HAS FLOWERS AT EVERY BEND.

THE HORIZONS THAT LOOK BRIGHT,

GIVE US BUT FOOLISH HOPE,

AND WITH WORDS THAT ARE TRITE,

DOES WITH SORROW OUR HEART COPE.