February 11, 2013
The world of divine joy!!
What’s poetry? To gift-wrap your feelings in words, to dance to the tunes of rhyme and rhythm, to feel the power of each word as it blasts forth to the world, carrying your message… A picture may speak a thousand words, but a poem speaks of a thousand emotions. It is these emotions of our club members that drip from each line of this issue, Pegasus, presented to you by Poetry Club. We hope it serves as a portal for you to enter and explore our world of divine joy.
Half a sheet of Paper
A bird flies by, chirping happily. I stare at it from behind a windowpane.
Half a sheet of paper It’s half full It’s half blank Lying naked on a plank.
A dandelion seed hovers by moodily. I try to reach it, But I am behind a windowpane..
Half a book of life Something’s written Something’s not Every verse starts with a dot
My friends go by, chatting and laughing. But I remain seated staring from my windowpane.
Half a sketch on air The edifice made The roof was none All else was said and done
I try to call them, but my words fade away, breathing their last from behind my windowpane.
Half the sound of thunder The dread’s there Nigh to emanate Lighting above to intimidate
The world goes by, and I sit and cry. In a fit of rage, I break open my windowpane.
Progresses the inception of termination Half a lifetime passed Half a lifetime lasts Half is all what you grasped.
The world stops, stares and moves on. And I realize, It's a world of windowpanes
-Tanayveer Singh 1
Poetry is not limited by languages or boundaries. It serves to bind us all through our differences. Keeping that in mind, we present to you a Telugu poem written by Sai Krishna.
INVISIBLE RAIN… an acrostic
ఓ సఖీ కళ్ళల్లో దీపంతో ఎదురుచూశా ,నీ రాకకై. ఎండల్ల మంచు ల్ాగా కరిగిపో యా ,నీ గాలి సో కి. వెన్ెెల్లో వరషం ల్ా పో ంగిపో యా, నీ పిల్ుపువిని. అల్న్ెై ఎగిసిదుమికా , నిన్ుె స్పృశంచి. పిియతమా…… కోమల్మైన్ నీ పాదాల్కు మువవన్వుతా, కల్ువల్ వంటి నీ కన్ుల్కు కాటుకన్వుతా, అమోఘ జల్పాతము వంటి నీ కురుల్ ధారల్ల పూరేకున్వుతా, తీగ వంటి నీ న్డుము పై మడతన్వుతా,. వెచచని నీ కౌగిలిల్ల బానిస్న్యిపో యా , న్ా విచక్షణా స్హిత మన్:సిి తిని కోల్లపయి, ఈ విరించి కరీడన్ు పరితయజంచి, న్న్ుె న్ేన్ు మరచి ఆహో రాతిమ ుల్ు నీ ధాయన్ముల్ల నిమగుెడన్ెై, వరిణంచితిని నీ స్ుందర రూపమున్ు,ఒక కవిన్ెై, నిస్పృహ ల్లబరుడన్ెైతి నీ స ందరయ ముగుుడన్ెై, అరిపస్ుున్ాె న్ా హృదయస్పందిత కవితన్ు,నీ అందానికి దాస్ుడన్ెై
I feel the drops graze past me Not wanting to cause me pain Violent, yet compassionate Is the invisible rain Sound, that’s music to my ears I hear on my window pane Banging, softly, on my door Listen to the invisible rain Evening casts a deep, dark veil Resisting is in vain And I fail to see your woe Invisible, thus turns the rain Now, finally, I know why you throb. -Neha Manglik
अच्छा लगता है…
कैद है चााँद की चाांदनी इस अमावसी रात में ,
तुम क्या जानो, ककतने पल काटे तुम्हारी बातों की बात में , मुद्दत से कुछ खास कहने की ख्वाहहश थी तुमसे ,
काश ये वक़्त वफा कर जाए , आज इस आखरी मुलाकात में !! प्रिये तुम्हारी इक सससकी से , आाँखें मे री बह जाती हैं,
तककये तले रखी तस्वीर तुम्हारी , ख़्वाबों में कुछ कह जाती है ! ओ! पूर्णिमा के चााँद तू, बसांत के सुनहरे आकाश तू ,
लगाए रखना अपने चेहरे पर, इस हसीन मुस्कान का श्रांगार , ये गहना तुम पर अच्छा लगता है !!
I took my toy from the five year old me and dropped it in a box never to be seen I took my castle of sand from the seven year old me broke it to dust and dusted it into the box I took my butterfly from the 12 year old me I cut its wings and dropped it in
I took my colours from the seventeen year old me अपनी हर इबादत में तुम्हारा ज़िक्र ककया है , broke all the bottles बचपन के खेलों को, मोहल्ले के मेलों को हर पल याद ककया है ! and painted the box with them ओ! पावन एहसास तू, मीठे अमरत की प्यास तू, Then i took the box ओढे रखना तन पर अपने , हया की ये ओढनी, threw it into the trash grabbed my bag of money ये गहना तुम पर अच्छा लगता है !! and left.
छू लो मुझको अपनी आाँखों से एक बार मुस्काकर,
माांग लो सांसार की सब खुसशयााँ हक जताकर! ओ! गुल-ए-गुल़िार तू, पतझर में बहार तू,
सजाये रखना अपनी आाँखों में मेरी तस्वीर का नुजूम, ये गहना भी तुम पर अच्छा लगता है !! -अर्चित
"The Other" There is a man, out in the snow. Where he comes from, I don’t know. His hand are cold, he eats no grass I was afraid, so I let him pass. He made his way, out from the cold, Into the warmth, of my humble cove Yet the fire of my hearth made him thaw, It charred his bones and burnt him raw. -Shashank V. Rao
The Holy Truth
Blue eyes blue skies, Whereâ€™s my rainy day? Lost my rain shade To a million smiles away...
When you are on a bout of pain You are in a concentrated state. You will not drift with the tide Once you've had your share. Passion will make you breathe And whim will lead you on. You may become no saint or star But a phoenix resurrecting daily. Your survival is most important All the rest is secondary.
Green eyes green fields, Whereâ€™s my autumn red? Lost my leaf stack To the demon that i bred... Grey eyes, grey sky, Where be my sun? Lost that summer breeze When it blew past me by noon wreathing havoc as it went, in the ghostly hour of June... -Abhijit
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Our Poets Anirudh, Benny, Harsh , Hemant, Shashank Abhijit, Anupam, Ashish, Ishan, Manan, Mehak, Ravi, Vaibhav, Aditya, Aneesha, Chetan, Divyanshu, Divya, Mangesh, Nitish, Neha, Saumya, Sahil, Tanayveer Archit, Lavleen, Mohit, Nimit, Saransh, Sai Krishna, Sakshi, Saisree, Sneha, Soumya,