I love poetry, but I am no poet.In my younger days ,I used to recite poems.It used to be passages from Shakespeare,poems of Wordworth,Tennyson and our own Tagore’s “Gitangali” and “Palanquin bearers”of Sarojini Naidu.Of course I was fond of poems in my mother tongue too.
By chance,I became the author of a poem,when I was sixteen years old,which was published in the college magazine.This poem is reproduced.
Rugged Titan,lulled by Luna’s lute,sleeps all night,
But yearns to peepout from the east,
Music of the spheres,Luna’s Firmament,
A host of thrills to me are lost
On summer eves,by rivulet banks,
I sit a while and muse,of life sublime of perfect love,
A dream of loved to lover ever true
Brightens before my inward eye.
Happy dreams,happier still ever they be true.
This poem is an ode addressed to the lady love by a lover undergoing emotional turmoil.The father of a girl is compared to the sun and daughter to the moon.The tale of my first poem goes like this.As a teenager,I craved to see my name in print.I decided to contribute an article in the college magazine.Just then one of my elder brothers had completed his post graduation in English Literature.Naturally I consulted him to suggest a topic to write.He asked me not to worry.He said that he will write a poem and I can get it published as mine.I was delighted and proud to see my name in print.
But then,sometimes I used to wonder whether this poem was ghost written or plagiarized.I got solace in concluding that it was at best an emotional indulgence by an elder sibling to help a brother out of sheer love and affection.I was past the age to resort to the usual emotional blackmail technique children employ to get things done,by parents and elders.
My second poem came much later,after several years when I was in my fifties.
I was the organizing secretary of the Tenth Annual National Conference of the Indian Association of Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation (IAPMR).I had to get a souvenir printed for the inauguration ceremony.I thought of printing the logo of IAPMR on the front page with a poem underneath explaining the significance of the logo.Thus my second poem was born.This time there was no help of a ghost or my passing off someone’s work as my own.The poem is given below.
“ In nature there is no blemish but the mind”
A withering tree,here and there,a world to care for
Plan for them,a new leaf to sprout,a new future,
Mould a whole new world,to your heart’s desire
Remember,it is life,the very life of life
As Alfred Tennyson put it “ old order Changeth yielding place to new”
Now this ninety two year old man,no longer recites his young age rage poems of love,but is immersed in devotional poems including verses from the Bhagavad Gita and Adi Shankara’s Mathru Panchakam.
Idle impressions 