Showing posts with label My rhyme and reason. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My rhyme and reason. Show all posts

Remembering to Forget

Sunday, 11 January 2015 by Meghna Pandey


My blog now bears an uncanny resemblance to Aamir Khan's filmography. Unfortunately for me, my resolve to write more often, pricks my conscience only during the holiday season (American company time-off) and like every year, as I reminisce about the time gone by, it's only nostalgia that helps with the inertia. Ironically, this time around, Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind was the movie I chose to revisit some long buried memory lanes. I still remember how this movie intrigued me and why! However, it’s been a long stretch since, and while it still remains one of my favorites, my fascination for it has, over time, normalized. Having said that, the lines from the original poem still mesmerize.

How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;

And with that, I couldn’t help but think about what it would be like to not have memories or to be able to make them at will. Does that keep the sanctity of my sanity or destroy it? Don’t memories sometimes drive you crazy? Doesn’t losing them? And while I keep my white and dark angels at that, here is something I wrote to keep my blog’s run rate going.



There by the dying light,
Where the skies race to infinity,
The sea is calm or so the deceit,
It's there I know, that our worlds will meet.
So, from horizon to another,
I walk on for countless snows and springs,
Forgetting to remember the day as it is
Still yearning for the eternal dream.
But the sunset today is a shade less dim,
And winter too has shed its last whim,
To that I wonder, if eternity is but akin,
An endless spin from end to begin.
Now the breaking light too beckons,
To follow not but omit, the past within.
But I trudge along wondering,
What remembering to forget would mean 

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A Window to the past

Wednesday, 1 January 2014 by Meghna Pandey

As a compulsive nostalgist, there is no better way to welcome a new year than reminisce about the last!

Strange are the ways of time, 
And its already another year gone by.
A new past to lament over and a little more to pine
And as tomorrow's sun shines,
I bask not in its warmth but,
Wander beneath yesterdays canopy
Trudge a little and run some
To chase shadows and follow a whisper
To look for someone lost and find none.
Then there is the drizzle and Oh what fun!
But the breeze with the familiar scent,
Now also brings with it a slight shiver
And before its too late to catch up with the sun,
I must grab a little bit of this earth,
Less I find a soul to come
And look to morrow alas,
For more than anything,
To give me another window to the past...


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The world has lost it's sheen

Saturday, 9 February 2008 by Meghna Pandey


If you have read Roots or Papillon or Shantaram or have seen the movie The Shawshank Redemption then the answer to the question, What is the most important thing in the world?, would most likely be Freedom. Freedom of course can mean lots of things to various people. As far as I am concerned, I haven’t had to break away from a prison or escape slavery, and I thank my stars for that. But doesn’t the word also mean the freedom to make choices and decisions of your own. No, I am not trying to sound victimized here, I love my life and I love my people and that’s exactly what my problem is. When you love and care for certain people, you get bound by it. In a way love binds you to take decisions which are although yours to say but, bound by the feelings and emotions of several others. Although I haven’t yet figured out whether that is good or bad , I know for sure it is rather a luxurious kind of freedom that I talk about, but that is just a euphemism to being called obdurate. In real terms and as I see it from a child's perspective, a child say forced into labour or denied basic necessities and that’s not just food and water but a lot of other things that we take for granted, this is what I think might just be a part of what really goes on inside him.



As I look out of my window,
Bend a little and lean,
I see a whole new world,
A world bathed in light,
A world, vast and serene.
The little dew drops,
On leaves beautifully green.
The stars rain down,
And on the river bed they all gleam.
I see a thousand children
And watch them as they run,
Careless and free.
And there by the tree I also see,
Wild daffodils dance in the breeze.
And it’s at times like these
I wonder what it is about
Pleasures so mean
That makes me want to soar
Over mountains and valleys unseen.
And if it pours
I will dance by the lake
While the birds sing and preen.
But as the rainbow fades
The daffodils disappear and
The children no longer scream
The birds grow silent,
The lakes frozen
It looks like a wrongly painted dream.
Now the window is shut and
The world seems to have lost its sheen.


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When the world was my only shell

Thursday, 17 January 2008 by Meghna Pandey


I am not the typical movie buff who would do anything to get that 'First day first show' ticket. I wouldnt do that, no not even for Aamir Khan. Instead I would call myself a prudent fan. Its only when a movie has been highly recommended to me that I decide to go and watch it. Dor was one such movie. There is no point talking about how good the movie was or appreciating the actors and the script, all that has been done. So as a tribute to good cinema and to the young widows I wrote this.

The lilting laughter by the well,
the yellow of the marigolds
The sound of a thousand bells
or the days when the world was my only shell.
The colours, they say , are gone too.
The sun once shone brightly upon me
but they say even thats gone with you.
The blues though, I am allowed to keep
and not to forget the black too.
But then how do I still see all of it,
Maybe its a mirage,maybe its true.
In the garden the roses still bloom,
and the marigolds, they still shine
maybe even a deeper yellow when I think of you.
You didnt give me the world
Then how do they say you took mine with you.
The first drop of rain, the clear skies,
my spring and my autumn too,
I know they are still all as much mine,
as when I had shared them with you,
I know it, I do.
The colours are all there too,
A splash of yellow, a sprinkle of red
and just a dash of blue.
Oh! how I wish I would have them,
Oh! I wish it were all true.

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