शनिवार, 31 अगस्त 2013

1. From the Embryo of poetry

Gave meaning to anguishes
accumulated each of the word
for every alphabet
a day became years of duodecimal 

Ages to seek
a line emerges
Pullulates bit of stratum 
of deep struck grief

line adds to line
corpus nous crop up contrivance
pilus n pore showers
delight from soul

under the encumbrance of anguishes
in a moment of emancipation
from the embryo of poetry
it is my rebirth

Embryo - womb
Duodecimal - term used for twelve.
Pullulates -  cracks
Corpus - body
Nous - mind


2. I'm Human

Be blessed 
with your god
your fear of fraud
doesn't bothers me

I shaped 
your God
and handed him
charges of destiny

My fist contains
Warmth, Air, Water
Power of centuries 
are beneath my feet

Will challenge 
Oceans and Mountains
pave up ways
for the progress

Unconquerable, redoubtable 
is my conation
wisdom and device
Human I am  


3. Trees should ...

To the rumours of whirlwinds
trees should not succumb,
should restrict branches from mutual abrasiveness
without reason should not flow sparks
should not invite forest fire...

Trees must have regards for forest
should give attention towards roots
as they are supplier of zest of life

Roots...
tie hand in hand to exalt
for long life of trees 
fighting underground stones

Trees should recollect themselves for moment
to strengthen their foundation
to ignore the rumours of whirlwinds 


4. Riot spreads on

Riot has no hands nor legs
then also it spreads... scattered ...
like oily conceit spreads on water
riots rides on rumours...

Riot gets printed in Newspapers
in coloumns to coloumns, pages to pages and as cover stories.
with its assistance televisions sensational serials become spectacular.
The TRP of fourth coloumn of democracy rises due to riots.

Riot never evanesces
in darken side of the fallen wall
nor it remains in the empty drum of an asphalt
riots never hide in back of high mountains or in deep bottom of well

Riot slowly raises its head
from saffron room of vermilion coated stone.
In the broken grave 
under the shade of an ancient old tree
riot lives on alert under the torn green sheet.
Entangled in thorny crown 
riot makes fun of whelming Jesus Christ.
Sometimes by guiding finger of Babasaheb
riot annoy the panchsheel of Buddha.

Riot
from air-conditioner rooms of five starred heightened buildings
watches every road and square of the city
on slums it is extra compassionate.

Official guns celebrate festivals of riot
police is free to impose curfew
and can take revenge of every assaults of their seniors on the occasion of riot.

Due to blessings of riot
wealthy people can take somewhat leisure from shopping rushes
hearth of indigents gets deserving interval.

Riot fertilizes brains of intellectuals
alike fungus  
analysis and discussions get emphasized   

Cameramen whose brain turned into mud and heart into coal make films of riot;
but then nobody could trace its address
riot spreads on Helter-Skelter ...    


5. I swear

Seeing sludge seated on humanity
device takes shape in me ... I swear ...

Ages passed in deception in name of grief
exploit every moment of delight with prudence ... I swear ...

Applied enough of Abir-Buka* and frayed 
then also cannot sense basis of abstract ... I swear ...

Your negation made me suffer and drive in
acceptance seems as fishing rod ... I swear ...

In summer O sun your pride is inoperable
you don't know the heat of caste ... I swear ...

Descendent Nympholept is erected manger 
Thirsty anxious waiting on brink ... I swear ...

Hey! ocean control your proud tides there 
here valley in stomach is abysmal ... I swear ...

* Abir-Buka is scented powder used for festive and religious purpose in rural India. 

6. Memory Loss

Contracitive are our flush brain
heart also squeezed
we have forgotten who Buddha was
who where from was Tukya*?

Who was crucified?
Who drank poison hemlock?
For universal truth
who left his motherland?

Ruby, pearl, gold, money
overall authority is truth for us
How to remember Mahavir
and make friendship with Kabir?

Our own wormy life
eat, breed and to die 
needs so stretch hand
and start begging

*Sant Tukaram (17th Century Marathi poet who deeply and widely influenced marathi literary culture.) 

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All the poems Translated by Pushpendra Falgun from Marathi.

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Bio data of Prasenjit Gaikwad

Born on 19th September 1971 Prasenjit Gaikwad is noted Marathi poet. He is known as poet of philosophy in poetic arena of Maharashtra. Has three collection of poems published and has edited other three poetry collections. His fourth book of poems and first book of short stories are under publication. 
Prasenjit is school master by choice. He says "want to learn from and understand each and every child, so decided to become school teacher."
He is District secretary of Progressive Writers Associations Nagpur chapter. His association with the organization helped many upcoming creative talent to get platform to showcase their creations. 
Prasenjit is known through his poetry to every rural Maharashtrian who can read.

Books published
Aanandache Yatri (Baal Kavita sangrah)               आनंदाचे यात्री (बाल कविता संग्रह)
Aani Majha nazret (Kavita Sangrah)                     आणि माझा नजरेत (कविता संग्रह)
Shoonya kalateel kavita (Kavita sangrah)              शून्य कालातील कविता (कविता संग्रह)   

Edited
Hridaybandh (Kavita Sangrah)                             हृदयबंध (कविता संग्रह)
Teela Surya gavasla tevhaan (Kavita Sangrah)      तीला सूर्य गवसला तेव्हां (कविता संग्रह)
Abhangaache Dohi (Abhang Sangrah)                  अभंगाचे डोही (अभंग संग्रह)

Under Publication
Kavitechya Garbhaatoon (Kavita Sangrah)            कवितेच्या गर्भातून (कविता संग्रह)
Jhandi-Mundi (Short Stories collection)                 झण्डी - मुण्डी  (कहानी संग्रह)

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