You Are Still Here – A Response Poem


Kashmir Lit is a wonderful journal of Kashmiri and Diasporic writing. The journal is run by Ather Zia and Huzaifa Pundit. Sometime back they had given a call for ‘Response Poems’. The idea was to write a response to any poem by a well known poet that inspired or connected deeply with the writer.

Amrita Pritam is one one of my favorite writers and most of her poetry speaks to me at a personal level. I chose to write my response to one of her well known poems ‘Main Tenu Phir Milangi /I Will Meet You Yet Again’  You can read the original poem and its English translation by poet Akhil Katyal by clicking the link.  This particular love poem was Amritaji’s last and was written for her partner for half a century, Imroz Sahab. Her promise to him of eternal love transcending lifetimes.

This is the link to my response ‘ You Are Still Here‘ that got published in Kashmir Lit recently. I am posting the poem along with my Hindi Translation of it for you. Do let me know your views. My idea was to write a response as Imroz sahab would perhaps have written. Though one can never match the brilliance of either.

This is my tribute and love note to a woman I admire for what she is (always here. Never gone). I am a poet because of her.

You Are Still Here 

Seasons shift
The cycle continues
Delicate harshingar blossoms
Fall like fragrant stars
I gather them gently
As my heart fills with you
Your presence radiating
From the source of our love
Your heart opens up to me
The fiery center of a flower
I catch your familiar scent
As you draw near
It seems that you’re with me
The breeze murmurs
“I’ll meet you yet again,
When, how I don’t know.”
Your words touch my skin
Unforgotten words
Words that I remember well
I know you are here
I listen to your breathing
I see dust-motes dancing
Iridescent daydreams in the sun
The morning sky is a canvas
Words shimmer in the light
Whispering your promise
“I’ll meet you yet again,
When, how I don’t know.”
But dear Amrita
You were never gone
You never left this place
Your presence echoes all around
Fragile flesh perishes
But love is strong
It outlasts the brevity of life
It changes form… it endures
My life is a palimpsest
Layers of memory
Absent yet strangely there
Graffiti waiting for the ink to dry
Then existence shifts
In some other time and space
“I’ll meet you yet again,
When, how I don’t know.”

 

तुम यहीं हो, यहीं कहीं हो

 

फिर मौसम ने करवट ली है

एक रुत आयी एक गयी

महकते तारों से झड़ते नाज़ुक़ हरसिंगार

जब आहिस्ता से दामन में जमा करता हूँ

तो मन तुमसे पुलकित हो उठता  है

एक तस्वीर सी उभर आती है तुम्हारी,

चटख नारंगी, अनुरागी

और वही पहचानी सी खुशबू

जैसे तुम यहीं हो, यहीं कहीं मेरे पास

और हवाओं की सरगोशियों में

तैरने लगते हैं तुम्हारे वो अल्फ़ाज़,

मैं तैनु फिर मिलांगी,

कित्थे ? किस तरह पता नई

छू जाते हैं मेरे रोम रोम को

वो भूलने वाले अल्फाज़

जो अब अभी मुझे याद हैं

मुझे पता है तुम यहीं हो

यहीं कहीं आस पास

ये तुम्हारी साँसों की आहट ही तो है

जब धुप में सुनहरी धूल के कण

थिरकते हैं जगमगाते सपनो की तरह

और सुबह का आसमां एक कैनवास में

बदल जाता है, रोशनी से झिलमिलाते शब्द

फिर तेरे उस वादे का इज़हार करते हैं,

मैं तैनु फिर मिलांगी,

कित्थे ? किस तरह पता नई

पर प्यारी अमृता, तुम तो कभी गयी ही नहीं

तुम्हारी मौजूदगी गूंजती हैं यहाँ के ज़र्रेज़र्रे में

जिस्म नश्वर  है पर  प्रेम शाश्वत

अडिग, अमिट हर पल नए रूप नए रंग में,

मेरा जीवन एक पुराना किस्सा है

परत दर परत तुम्हारी यादों का

अभी यहीं, अभी ओझल आँखों से

कुछ शब्द जो स्याही के सूखने का

इंतज़ार कर रहे हैं

फिर समां बदलता है, एक भीनी सी

सरसराहट छू के निकलती है,

मैं तैनु फिर मिलांगी,

कित्थे ? किस तरह पता नई

Hello December – Flowers, Reviews, Conversations


The winter flowers are in full bloom. We didn’t grow many in the new house. I have just lost interest. My search for a home continues and I fill my empty hours with colors. I had forgotten this post in the draft so sharing now after updating a little. My laptop is still not working properly and that is the reason for this chaos here. Hope you’ll understand.

 

Yesterday while wandering in the city I spotted the gorgeous Pink Floss or the Mexican Silk Cotton tree with its bright showy flowers. This is the second flush The flowers are orchid like. These trees were introduced to Delhi and planted en mass in the 1950s.

I will be doing some more posts on Delhi, its trees, monuments and other things close to my heart.

Meanwhile Kashmir Lit, an online journal of Kashmiri and Diasporic Writing, published a review of my poetry book Wayfaring.

Here is an excerpt :

Tikuli Dogra emerges as a poet of transcendence. She seizes a moment, (be it in memory or imagination or in real time) describes it in broad word strokes, bringing her inherent painter to fore. This description itself becomes a meditation of sorts and culminates in a Zen-like insight/awareness that leaves the reader in a state of calm stasis.

 

You can read the review HERE 

A very special conversation took place over emails with Nigerian Poet David Ishaya Osu.  David is a young poet I admire. Extremely talented he is one of the very few interviewers I enjoyed conversing with. He is sharp, witty, sensitive and very intriguing and it was a pleasure to share some thoughts on poetry, life, food, blogging and other things with him. Do read his poems and the interview which got published in Gainsayer Magazine.

Here is an excerpt

 

Some stray questions in one (laughs): what is it you do not like about poetry? As a poet yourself, does poetry mystify you? And what is that one thing you wish people get about poetry? 

(Laughs) It may seem very odd now when I say it but over the years I have begun to dislike the ‘dreamy creamy’ stuff dished out in the name of poetry. Some years back I was writing something similar and then one day I purposely took down many of my earlier poems from my blog and elsewhere. Once you learn the nuances of the craft you know the good from the bad. I also detest the use of clichés in poems.

I like to be mystified by poetry. I like the unknown, something that holds me, makes me think beyond what is visible, beyond understanding. I think good poetry is all about taking the reader beyond the familiar. You peel a few layers and think you’re close but then there are more layers. Just like art.  Poetry should mystify so far as to draw you into it.

Most of the time we are in pursuit of mastering the art and not leaving an element of mystery in it which I think is a mistake.

 

Do read the full interview by visiting this link –

Tikuli Dogra – Poetry is life for me 

 

My short fiction about gender violence and war crimes against women is featured in ‘Muffled Moans Unleashed‘, an international anthology of poetry and fiction focused on child abuse/gender violence. The book has contributions from award-winning writers.

The book is co edited and complied by Lopa Banerjee along with Dr. Santosh Bakaya and is published by AuthorsPress, New Delhi. It’s available on Amazon so do get your copy and give me your opinion on the story. The book was released in Kolkata at the Iran Society, 22nd December, 2018 in the presence of the literati, social activists and short filmmakers of the city.
I have a few very important posts on Delhi Monuments which I will start sharing from tomorrow. I hope to cover all the pending posts before the year ends.

 

Wish you a Merry Christmas and happy holidays.