When the Sun Dances

A dawn chorus serenades the day to be

With koels, robins, and sparrows' song in glee

Crepuscular rays coyly wake up the sky

With pearl-scented purple clouds smiling shy

Scintillating rays of calmness seek the trees

Wisdom of liquid gold weaving with ease

Ripples of gold and gray linger and dissolve

Ensouls komorebi with rooted resolve

A day's worth of prayers, moments of gifted grace

The sun glides by, leaving Venus' rosy trace

Night in binds, it glissades in waves of greens and reds

With an airy ballon, charm of aurora spreads

Power of grace and calm of depth intertwine,

Life breathes when the sun dances divine.

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C'est la Vie ! : କଳ୍ପନାର ହିମଦେଶ

ତୁଷାରିତ ହିମଗିରି ଶିଖର କୋଳେ,

ସ୍ବର୍ଣ୍ଣାଭ କିରଣ ର କଲ୍ଲୋଳିତ ତାଳେ,

ପ୍ରସ୍ଫୁଟିତ ହୀରାକଣି ପୁଷ୍ପ ହସେ,

ଜୀବନ ସେଠି ଜୀବନର ରହସ୍ଯ ଭାଷେ ।

ହିମଗୌର ଆଲୋକରେ ପ୍ରଜ୍ବଳିତ ଶିଖା,

ଚପଳ ଜୋଛନା ସେଠି ଆଙ୍କେ ଚିତ୍ରଲେଖା,

ମନୋମୟ କାହାଣୀରେ କାଦମ୍ବିନୀ ହଜେ,

ମନ ସେଠି ମନର ଗୀତିକାର ସାଜେ ।

ନଭଶ୍ଚୁମ୍ବୀ ସେ, ଧରିତ୍ରୀର ଶ୍ରେଷ୍ଠ ଚୂଡ଼ାମଣି,

ମିଞ୍ଜିମିଞ୍ଜି ତାରାପୁଞ୍ଜ ତହିଁ ସ୍ବପ୍ନ ଯାଏ ବୁଣି,

ମୃଦୁ ହସେ ମନ୍ଦାକିନୀ ଉତଫୁଲ୍ଲିତ ହୋଇ,

କଳ୍ପନା ସେଠି କଳ୍ପନାର ସ୍ମାରକ ଗଢ଼ଇ ।

====================================

A Loose Translation: 

(January 22, 2025, 8:16 PM)

That's Life! : A Snowy Land (Himalayas) of Imagination 

In the lap of the snowy peaks, 

With the astoundingly delightful rhythm of the golden rays, 

The blooming diamond flowers beam with delight, 

And Life... whispers the mystery of Life there. 

The peak (1*) glistens in the auroral frosted snow,

As the fickle moonbeam paints a celestial portrait, 

The ethereal clouds immerse themselves in fantasies,

And Mind... adorns itself with ariose ballads of Mind.

Kissing the skies, it is a treasure sans pareil,

Where the shimmering stars sow and plant dreams.

The exultant "Mandakini" (2*) smiles gently,

And Imagination... builds a monument of Imagination there.

(1*) the mountain peak and the flame : are spelt same in Odia. An ornamentation technique is used called "Jamaka Alankara" has been used here.

(2*) Mandakini is a tributary river of Ganga. Additionally, the cosmic river or the Milky way galaxy is also referred to as Mandakini. Again, "Jamaka Alankara" is used here.

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The Fragrance

Breathe the fragrance in the zephyr
And feel the kiss of sunshine
The silkiness and warmth
For eternity, cherish and enshrine.

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Blue Sky, white fleeces of clouds
Greeny trees and the breezy shroud
Turqoise Sea and the golden sand
Mystical colors of nature reverend!

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Magnum Opus

Nothing could have been more real, still it sounded like an illusion. I knew I was there but I could not feel my existence. Everything seemed so ephemeral yet so enduring; it became difficult to classify which really was and which really was not. It was no less than a sonata. It was eternal bliss.

The place spelled mesmerizing bounty for nature’s quintessence. It had those vivid hues of a rainbow albeit in pastel shades. It was all so different, still so united. The sound of water splashing against the rocks was pristine melody. The breeze’s elegance was spellbinding. Had it not been for the breeze touching my skin, I, perhaps, would have forgotten the mortal truth of my existence. There was a tinge of sun’s orange hue which claimed the grandiose arrival of the dawn. As moments kept passing, the imperialism of sun’s ascent augmented the serenity of the vista. That was just not a scenic sunrise; it was a symphony, a symphony of nature, a symphony of life.

The chirping of birds with the rhythmic unveiling of the horizon was innate. The glistening rays upon the foamy waters were worth a zillion diamonds. The fragrance of the water hauled the warmth of the infant rays along with the mizzle of the earthy trance. That was a trance so ethereal and so plausible. That was a trance too hard to escape. There was a melodious humdrum that the nature was humming on to my ears. I did not quite understand it and I had no intentions of doing that either. I just wanted to be in that moment as much as I can; to feel and experience everything that was transpiring. How beautiful and mystic can nature be? That was ephemeral and eternal and the ether spelled every word of its existence. The duality existing in such a symbiosis is perhaps the most conflicting of marvels.

Anything this mystical can never cease to surprise. I wondered if it is remotely possible to hold time and freeze this moment, forever. But, if that would have been possible, even vaguely, that would have meant the doom of the opus and the bliss. The sun paved paths brighter as it progressed ahead on its journey through the cerulean sky. Fleecy clouds formed and deformed as if indicating the moods of the zenith with each passing moment. There was so much of every activity, it was becoming a bit arduous to encompass every minutiae. With so much going-on, what amused me was the rhythm at which each was ensuing and the melody of the transitions. With the ascent of descend, the sun regained its magical hue. It spelled a promise of the potentials of the next day as it started descending onto the lap of the horizon. The tinkling of the small stones, as the bystanders of this daily phenomenon, seemed to ratify the assertion. All aspects were so in harmony!

It was time to call it a day as everybody tended to return to their respective abodes with some attaining their natural states of tranquility; but how to break the allure of the elixir of the symphony of the vista and the harmony with which it exist and coexist. The bountiful favors of the nature was spreading its wings onto the twilight and merging itself with the purpleness. It was nothingness pronouncing the eternity of nature’s quintessence. It was elation amalgamating with pristinity. It was Life!

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And the moon got lost.....

And the moon got lost

When there was the silence of the words

Walking alone to the old birch tree

The rats were still racing on

And the moon got lost…

And the moon got lost

The clouds were on a marathon

Yet the stars twinkled with

Light and cheery, zest and merry

And the moon got lost…

And the moon got lost

The birds chirped, the bees hummed

The sun was wide awake

The leaves dried and the flowers withered

And the moon got lost…

And the moon got lost

The sandy breeze with the fragrance within

Whipped and circled and told some tale

The tides mystified and roared with laughter

And still the moon got lost!

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Memorable view.

I don’t believe this. I never wanted this to happen. I mean, it was destined to be like this but, I never really thought…. so early!! All of a sudden, you know! It was quite unexpected in my part to believe what I just witnessed! Well, let me describe this in details.

In my class, I always like to sit in the first bench, for the convenience that it offers - one rarely gets disturbed there and it's easy to dexterously avoid small talk during lectures. So, I always used to sit there, even during "adverse"  situations such as class exams or boring lectures. However, a few days before my end semester exams (inter-semester vacations are on as I write this), a bunch of girls would "reserve" the entire first bench, for reasons best known to them. I had to change my seat to the second bench, by the window side. Well, initially it was a little inconvenient, until one day.....

That day, one of our lecturers ended the session early, 10 minutes early. So, we had almost 15 minutes free time (10 minutes+ 5 minutes for the next class to start). Almost everybody moved out of the classroom, but I remained seated and looked casually out of the window. And… what did I see? A lush green paddy field, splendidly beautiful, just amazing. It's beauty left me spellbound, really! I mean, it was simply fantabulous. That 15 minutes passed like a jiffy, completely lost in those greens. From then onward, whenever I had time, I just looked outside and got enthralled. I would contemplate the different colors of the paddy field whenever it rippled with the wind unleashing its different moods, as if it is uttering a hundred words to the breeze and murmuring rhymes onto the zephyr, prancing and dancing with joy sometimes, and sometimes……sometimes, with utter grief, unable to withstand the zephyr’s soothing melody. And, I slowly realized that now I don’t want to leave this seat in the second bench. I have started loving the place by the window, yeah I mean,I really did. I started doing my most favorite activity there, my favorite activity, writing! I carried my notepad to the classroom and whenever I could manage some time, be it 5 minutes or 10 minutes, I would write, inspired by the kaleidoscopic view  that the "outside the window" world portrayed. I wrote numbers of poems and articles and all of them had the trance of the fields. Sometimes, I just glanced outside and enjoyed whatever the fields tried to convey. I liked to do that many a times, just observing them. I was so lost in that reverie that I did not even realize that that vista had formed a certain sort a bond with me. It was November when…..

That day when I looked outside, I just couldn't believe my eyes! I mean, I couldn’t fathom anything. What has happened? Our lecture started and I couldn't properly discern the actual thing. As soon as the lecture ended, I looked outside again and I expected some magic to happen this time. Perhaps, whatever I saw earlier was just a hallucination or just a bad dream or whatever. I just wanted to see something pleasant. I looked outside and I realized, whatever I saw was no hallucination, no bad dream, but the bitter truth. Half of the field was cut and the paddy, so yellow, so pale, lay there. Perhaps, they also never wanted it. The wind blew but they lay still. The half of the field that survived the harvest, were also still and seemed so crestfallen that they too didn't respond to the zephyr. The zephyr tried hard to cheer them up but couldn’t. I couldn't believe how all of a sudden everything changed. Every time I looked, I just hoped that everything was fine, but it was not. That day, seemed like a day of disgrace. The next day, I again looked outside only to see that the whole field was destructed, looted upon. The lush paddy, that stood yesterday, was not there. Everything seemed so empty, so void. The breeze rustled but there was nobody to play with it, nobody to dance to its rhyme. The breeze, too, seemed doleful. The sun that blessed them seemed so harsh now, so dull, so gloomy. And, everything ended. I stopped looking outside and now, I don’t like that seat anymore, but I hope life again blooms there soon. Everything went on like they used to be earlier. Everything, but the paddy field.
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