Monday, May 21, 2007

I'm on the banks



The transparent water;
Flowing slow and steady,
Dancing on the rocks,
Making its way through my hands.

The music of flow is pleasing,
It seems musicians from heavens are performing.
The jitters and movements of the trees resemble unique dance,
Dancers from the paradise have landed on this mortal ground.

The fluffy and frail clouds belittling stupendous mountains,
The 'coo' of the cuckoo echoing in the ambience.
Nature enticing my mind with her sorcery,
Bewitched!! I'm on the banks.

Anand Bora

I was hearing the instrumental music named Delusion
by Rahul Sharma. That made me write this piece of
poetry.
Do listen to his music if you get a chance.

Monday, May 14, 2007

Eyes will cheat you - A song of Hindi movie OMKARA translated to English

Eyes will cheat you

Don't trust the eyes
Don't hear to what the eyes say
Eyes will cheat you.

They will blow magic on this world;
Sound sleeps would turn into barren nights,
Eyes will cheat you.

They don't care about innocence; neither kins nor strangers,
Eyes have passion for biting and smiting,
The venom of eyes is intoxicating;
They seed the rainbow in the clouds,
& it rains till dawn.
Eyes will turn you crazy,
Eyes will cheat you.

Eyes will take you to heavens at night,
They give dreams of clouds and rains; show greenery,
I cannot trust the speech of the eyes.
They read and write without receipt or book,
All the talks have gone over my mind.

It rains without clouds
& there are clouds without rains.
Eyes will cheat you.

They will blow magic on this world;
Sound sleeps would turn into barren nights,
Eyes will cheat you.

Don't trust the eyes
Don't hear to what the eyes say
Eyes will cheat you.

This is the English translation of a Hindi song
sung in the movie Omkara, directed by Vishal Bharadwaj.
This song has been sung by Vishal Bharadwaj himself
and it is sung in Indian classical genre.
The song has been written by a phenomenal lyricist GULZAR.
The movie is based on William Shakespeare's OTHELLO.
I love the meaning of the song and wrote the English
version so that more and more people can enjoy it.
If you get a chance to hear it, do it. It's awesome.

Check out the Omkara site for more.
:)

Thursday, May 10, 2007

The First Kiss

The unison of our lips;
Leading to the unison of our senses.

A gush of feelings,
Running like electricity in my neurons.

It seems we are at the margin of the horizons,
And our souls at the intersection of the worlds.

Our breath as pure as the first breath of a new born,
And the taste as sweet as honey.

She starts flowing into my body;
And my emotions start dancing in rhapsody.

The touch graduating to a lasting kiss;
Start of true love is never amiss.

Anand Bora

This is an imaginary creation and has lots of scope for
improvement. May be someday, I will improve it.

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

Gist of "OLD LOVE"

Old Love is a story of two Doctorate students William and Phillipa written by Jeffrey Archer. I was very fascinated and couldn't resisting writing a small gist of what it contains.

Both are extremely intelligent and intellectual. They both study in Oxford and they are staunch competitors. Still they used to teach each other sometimes. This continued for three years and they both kept equivocating each other in all aspects.

Then came a time of the award of Old Durham Charles Oldham (corrected based on comments and review). This award was given for the best essay by a student. They both do their bit to achieve the award. It so happened that Phillipa's dad died of cancer and she was very depressed. Then William supported her and took her to her home. At some instant he realized that he was in love with Phillipa and so he proposed her on the condition that he won the prize.

The result was out. For the first time, two winners were declared and both of them won the Old Durham Prize. William and Phillipa married after winning the Prize. They kept competing with each other even after the marriage. They were both efficient in their fields of interests. Both of them got offers from different people for work with equal importance. When William was given Knighthood, Phillipa was also given the opportunity to sit beside the Queen.

The only edge Phillipa had over William was that she used to solve The Times Crossword in half the time what William used to do. Phillipa couldn't bear a child to William. They were now old enough but had enough reputation by now. Once Phillipa was not getting a word in the Crossword. William instantaneously filled that word "WHYM WHAM" which Phillipa argued that the word does not exist in the Oxford Dictionary and it is no word in dictionary. William took a bet with Phillipa that if the word existed then Phillipa would read some book(I dont remember the name) which Phillipa hated.

After that William went to his college library. At that moment, Phillipa got a heart attack and she died. Nobody dare give this news to William but somehow he was informed. Then he was found dead in his cabin with a pistol in one hand and a book in other hand.
In that book, the word "WHYM WHAM" was underlined.

That book was never separated from his hand.

Do read this story in A Quiver Full of Arrows by Jeffrey Archer.

Monday, April 30, 2007

THE EYES SAY EVERYTHING

So beautiful and so sublime;
Deep as the ocean and abyssmal as time.
The greatest gift to mankind,
The source through which feeling unwind.
It's true, The eyes say everything.

The 'feel' universe exists in the dot;
A blink is enough to tie an emotional knot.
Signs of love cannot be hidden,
They are the enchanting jewels of a maiden.
It's true, The eyes say everything.

Language of the eyes is unique;
Moods are visible, be it joy or fatigue.
Passion, obsession and anger,
They turn RED - a sign of danger
It's true, The eyes say everything.

Their shrinking evokes curiousity;
Probably insinuating jealousy.
Partially showing the state of mind,
Exception is the case of the blind.
It's true, The eyes say everything.

Saline droplets residing at the periphery;
Times of sorrow - they flow continuously.
Deep grief can never be healed,
Still life goes on, as the sight of hope is revealed.
It's true, The eyes say everything.

Anand Bora

This poem still seems incomplete. In the edited version which I am not going to publish, I will complete it.

Monday, April 02, 2007

Thursday, March 29, 2007

Health took it all

Hi,

I couldn't blog these days as I was struggling with my health.

Now I am better and raring to write.

My creation "The eyes say everything is ready"

Another one is also ready "Hand mirror and the comb"

Will post them soon..

Enjoy Life!!

Thursday, March 15, 2007

The Eyes say everything!!

Another creation on the line up!!

Got inspiration...

Getting it ready..

Monday, March 12, 2007

With You

Adolescence was at its prime stage,
And I was strolling down the park.
Loneliness was at its outrage
And the beautiful world seemed so dark.
Serendipity happened and strange feelings emerged from the first encounter with you.

The heart started to fill with softness
The ambience began to ooze amative emotions.
Your company was nullifying my emptiness;
I began to make lovely assumptions.
Soothing was the first meeting with you.

I could smell you in the wet earthly soil,
Your presence could be felt in my empty times.
You were pulling my life out of turmoil,
My dreams comprised your fancies and sweet rhymes.
Passionate fraternity became the first friendship with you.

Your beautiful eyes asked me questions,
Your perfect lips resembled rose buds.
Your flowing long black hairs were 'winds' annotations,
Affection grew and we became love birds.
Ethereal romanticism was the first love with you.

Your talk was like the smooth drizzle,
I wanted to bedraggle myself forever.
Our love intensified and began to dazzle,
My senses caught the incurable fever.
Pinnacle of 'LOVE' was the first kiss with you.

You became a part of my life,
And so did I.
Unfortunately!! Ruthless time created a rife,
I had to ask a question, WHY..WHY..WHY?
Inexorable pain became the partition with you.

Anand Bora

Sunday, March 11, 2007

"With You" is ready!!

I kept the readers waiting for long....

The wait is over..
I will post this new creation tomorrow..

The contents of the poem never relates to me..
I have never experienced such a thing..
It is just what I felt like writing..
So it may happen that many of you may not like the poem as well..
Whatever be the case, I still would like comments from your side..

The romantic creation proceeds in the following manner

"Adolescence was at its prime stage....."

Monday, February 26, 2007

My Birthday

You people will be fascinated to know that today is my birthday
and I share my birthday with Victor Hugo and Micheal Bolton and
many other creative presons of history.

It is very ironical that a creative person is doing work in the
technology field. But thats how life goes.

The important thing is to DO YOUR WORK.
The more you get passionate about doing things,
the more you feel free and powerful.

This is what I have realized till date.

MANY MANY HAPPY RETURNS OF THE DAY TO ME!!

Friday, February 23, 2007

WITH YOU

I am in the process of creating this romantic poem..
Wait one or two days....

Anand

Thursday, February 15, 2007

The Road that was

The Road that was
Beside my home
Leading to a boulevard..to an avenue.. to a highway
Unchanged through the test of time,
Witnessing me grow up day by day.

The Road that was
Stubborn, hard and tough
Toppling me, giving me 'unforgettable wounds' of algedonic nature..
My limbs and senses were on the receiving end
Gradually learning, I grew up in stature.

The Road that was
The home of helpless vendors,'essential' shops and discordant traffic
Calling me for my daily needs
Inducing innumerous visits..Uff..
'A Pandora's Box' were my deeds.

The Road that was
Cheering, jubilating and celebrating
When the epoch of festivals was going on;
The aroma of delicacies, cuisines and fun filled in the air
Oh! The times of joy and ecstasy are gone.

The Road that was
Loving and Caring
Parents, guardians, neighbours and the pedagogue
Nostalgia of affections haunt my memories
Melancholic am I? Those days have turned into a prologue.

The Road that was
My playground in those cool summer evenings
Elation became the order of the day
Friends, fun, furor, fantasy
Independent I was like the sun's ray.

The Road that was
Crying, sobbing and sad
My departure was on the cards
It was pleading, pacifying, requesting me to stay
Though heart broken, I had to leave those 100 yards.

Anand Bora

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

BLACK (Reviewed and Modified Version)

Silky purdah drooping down the Asian face
Covering the Angel.. Enchantment is BLACK.

The savior reflects the essence divine
Krishna hypnotizing the mind.. 'Maya' is BLACK.

Education has a fruitful termination
Degrees.. Handling is BLACK.

Youth is the crème of life
Signs.. Variety apart, the positive is BLACK.

Artist molding art and design
Immaculate.. The pen is BLACK.

Virgin glistering with diamond line
Sparkle.. The 'source' is BLACK.

The time for departure has come
Kin's attire.. The feeling is BLACK.

Ability, abnormality, out of ordinary
Helpless mortals.. The struggle is BLACK.

Kills and Bills for bovine beings
Leathery products.. Luxury is BLACK.

Beloved parted with time
Pain.. The void in heart is BLACK.

Sunny days radiating energy
Short-lived.. Silent nights are BLACK.

Betraying the inside, foxing outside
Reflections of self... The shadow is BLACK.

The truth is certain and certainty holds
Impasse eliminated.. 'Truth' is BLACK.

Anand Bora

Many thanks to Puneet.. my best friend!!

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

The Game and We

Standing tall in the midst of the stadium
We define the battle part
Our body, heart and mind is willow
Our existence keeps the game apart.

Twins we are... have three dimensions
Off, mid and leg are they
Bells standing on the temple
Ringing when the cherry slay.

Legion of legends have been protecting us
Might and skill - their splendid show
Our security is the prime concern
"The master out her" - all should know.

Alas! We have numerous falls
My greatest enemy - the ball and the bowler
"Oh please stop him"
The next moment - "The sky comes closer".

Anand Bora

The poem is being narrated by the wickets used in the game of cricket.