Monday, November 3, 2008
A Poetic Inspiration in life - by Ganesh Soorya Tilak (my brother)
AMMA
Is there a soul, which doesn’t utter this word?
A mortal or an immortal it may be.
Oh, the sweetness and freshness one gets,
Just by uttering this spell,
Then won’t the maternal love,
Have the depth of the deepest well?
When I am shaded under this layer,
Like the sun covering me in its energy,
Like the earth surrounded by the atmosphere,
Her love gives me a magnetic coating,
Fascinating the strong and good things,
By it’s clotting!
What about the ones, who are ignored?
The seedlings who haven’t dived in its pure waters,
Ah, The orphaned and solitude on whom I pity.
May God flow upon them the motherly affection
Greater than health and wealth,
In fact the mightiest powers of all.
When I cry, she weeps
Closing her depressions, she keeps
Counts, observes and understands my emotions and pains,
Fires with action and showers those words
That cures the deadliest wounds
And! Consoles the deepest worries.
FOOT BALL
Kick it, kick it, it is a foot ball
Oh! A ball which receives kicks from all
What a satisfaction it gives to all!
It tries to escape from the legs of all.
Like the frog which escapes from the snake
Like the girl who escapes from freaks
It skips and slides, jumps and bounces
Again and again until it reaches a sole.
Wow! The prizes Maradonna receives
For his number of kicks with it, it precedes
By the tears it sheds
Compensating with the sweat he makes.
He kicks the football, but
Kisses the prizes
He forgets the kicks, but
The football doesn’t.
My sympathy came up once on this football
I loved and kept within my hands and heart
But alas! The world got rid of me, saying
It is a ball born to get kicks from all.
I AM UNIQUE
A blow in one cheek; take one other,
Accepting a deaf ear’s response, a hollow hand’s respect,
I donate you my audibility and skin,
Swallowing the essence of the national king.
Single, solitude and all alone,
Like a lion in its den,
I am one, but have myself fully,
I shall give you shade without bully.
The knowledge for which the greatest mind’s search,
Through experience, scriptures and literatures,
It is how to control one’s mind,
Ignorant are we that it is difficult to find!
The insults of many who are worthless,
Have pricked the hearts of all,
The praises and wishes from a few
Has been tasted by a handful and me.
Mobs are on their heels, to rob other’s mind
Like the possessive husbands expecting love from wives,
Like the son’s expecting love from mothers,
But they forget that, they have lost their minds.
Be neither a King, nor a warrior,
Who exploit their time on war,
I am a minister, I am unique,
Who plans for his empire.
DEDICATED TO DAD
He rises, before the sun,
A soft wake-up call for his son,
Hoping to see me, jump from bed,
Leaves me asleep, like an adolescent bud.
A life, donated only for me,
Reaps, sows and harvests without worry.
Anxious to make me a well-settled lad,
He is none other than my dad.
Acknowledges for my merits,
Apologizes for his sins,
Observes and punishes for my practice,
Mourns and wails without my notice.
Wishes to be a shadow of mine,
Hopes to get fame, if I’m kind.
Loves me more dearly than my motherly angel,
Love from me is a mystery, a waste of gel !
His walk is adorned by Kings,
His talks are like Romans,
Soothing and attracting turning envy to love.
My presence makes him forget tiredness and stress.
Dares not to see a woman!
My mom, none other than her,
I regret to have ignored him a lot,
Sure, this great ocean of love is not a drop less.
I am blessed to have a great father,
Who agrees with my opinions with confidence,
Forgets my ignorance, enjoys my shade,
Prayers for his health, to be his made.
TABALA
Heaven and Earth filled with music,
Gods, Goddesses dancing for its beat,
(Submitting) sharing pleasure and notion,
Wah! Bass and treble in motion.
Created Khusro using goats skin,
Coiling interest and love.
Threw it to the world and me;
Proving himself a maestro!
Oh! Hindustan, she belongs to you
Numerous players like dews!
Allah Rakha, Zakir and my guru;
Purifies ears without stress.
When I touch this instrument,
A melody flows through it,
Giving the pleasure of a new born birth,
Satisfying my heart as it worth.
This new born grows to a kid,
Makes me melt and mix;
Follows me like a sister,
As she sound like my mother.
If I rejoice, she maintains it
If my worry, she finds purity
Though her rhythmic rain
Without her life is vein
THROUGOUT AL AIN
I use my wing filled in ink,
To write this poem and I shrink.
A journey which was a fantasy
That lies in my mind.
Teamed my nine and was fine,
Like the various styles of life,
Went we to the green land
Zoned in, howling in cheer.
Zoomed deep, in black beauty,
Toured observed and gazed.
Ah! We were amazed,
As it was entertaining.
The rides were soaring,
Their noises were roaring.
Whirling like a snake
To the hill top!
I could see a world,
Building arranged like pearls,
We felt cold, but were cured!
By the majestic hot springs.
Oh we were in a hurry(were set to go)
Even though weren’t able to part,
Was filled with merry,
For have visited Al Ain
Is there a soul, which doesn’t utter this word?
A mortal or an immortal it may be.
Oh, the sweetness and freshness one gets,
Just by uttering this spell,
Then won’t the maternal love,
Have the depth of the deepest well?
When I am shaded under this layer,
Like the sun covering me in its energy,
Like the earth surrounded by the atmosphere,
Her love gives me a magnetic coating,
Fascinating the strong and good things,
By it’s clotting!
What about the ones, who are ignored?
The seedlings who haven’t dived in its pure waters,
Ah, The orphaned and solitude on whom I pity.
May God flow upon them the motherly affection
Greater than health and wealth,
In fact the mightiest powers of all.
When I cry, she weeps
Closing her depressions, she keeps
Counts, observes and understands my emotions and pains,
Fires with action and showers those words
That cures the deadliest wounds
And! Consoles the deepest worries.
FOOT BALL
Kick it, kick it, it is a foot ball
Oh! A ball which receives kicks from all
What a satisfaction it gives to all!
It tries to escape from the legs of all.
Like the frog which escapes from the snake
Like the girl who escapes from freaks
It skips and slides, jumps and bounces
Again and again until it reaches a sole.
Wow! The prizes Maradonna receives
For his number of kicks with it, it precedes
By the tears it sheds
Compensating with the sweat he makes.
He kicks the football, but
Kisses the prizes
He forgets the kicks, but
The football doesn’t.
My sympathy came up once on this football
I loved and kept within my hands and heart
But alas! The world got rid of me, saying
It is a ball born to get kicks from all.
I AM UNIQUE
A blow in one cheek; take one other,
Accepting a deaf ear’s response, a hollow hand’s respect,
I donate you my audibility and skin,
Swallowing the essence of the national king.
Single, solitude and all alone,
Like a lion in its den,
I am one, but have myself fully,
I shall give you shade without bully.
The knowledge for which the greatest mind’s search,
Through experience, scriptures and literatures,
It is how to control one’s mind,
Ignorant are we that it is difficult to find!
The insults of many who are worthless,
Have pricked the hearts of all,
The praises and wishes from a few
Has been tasted by a handful and me.
Mobs are on their heels, to rob other’s mind
Like the possessive husbands expecting love from wives,
Like the son’s expecting love from mothers,
But they forget that, they have lost their minds.
Be neither a King, nor a warrior,
Who exploit their time on war,
I am a minister, I am unique,
Who plans for his empire.
DEDICATED TO DAD
He rises, before the sun,
A soft wake-up call for his son,
Hoping to see me, jump from bed,
Leaves me asleep, like an adolescent bud.
A life, donated only for me,
Reaps, sows and harvests without worry.
Anxious to make me a well-settled lad,
He is none other than my dad.
Acknowledges for my merits,
Apologizes for his sins,
Observes and punishes for my practice,
Mourns and wails without my notice.
Wishes to be a shadow of mine,
Hopes to get fame, if I’m kind.
Loves me more dearly than my motherly angel,
Love from me is a mystery, a waste of gel !
His walk is adorned by Kings,
His talks are like Romans,
Soothing and attracting turning envy to love.
My presence makes him forget tiredness and stress.
Dares not to see a woman!
My mom, none other than her,
I regret to have ignored him a lot,
Sure, this great ocean of love is not a drop less.
I am blessed to have a great father,
Who agrees with my opinions with confidence,
Forgets my ignorance, enjoys my shade,
Prayers for his health, to be his made.
TABALA
Heaven and Earth filled with music,
Gods, Goddesses dancing for its beat,
(Submitting) sharing pleasure and notion,
Wah! Bass and treble in motion.
Created Khusro using goats skin,
Coiling interest and love.
Threw it to the world and me;
Proving himself a maestro!
Oh! Hindustan, she belongs to you
Numerous players like dews!
Allah Rakha, Zakir and my guru;
Purifies ears without stress.
When I touch this instrument,
A melody flows through it,
Giving the pleasure of a new born birth,
Satisfying my heart as it worth.
This new born grows to a kid,
Makes me melt and mix;
Follows me like a sister,
As she sound like my mother.
If I rejoice, she maintains it
If my worry, she finds purity
Though her rhythmic rain
Without her life is vein
THROUGOUT AL AIN
I use my wing filled in ink,
To write this poem and I shrink.
A journey which was a fantasy
That lies in my mind.
Teamed my nine and was fine,
Like the various styles of life,
Went we to the green land
Zoned in, howling in cheer.
Zoomed deep, in black beauty,
Toured observed and gazed.
Ah! We were amazed,
As it was entertaining.
The rides were soaring,
Their noises were roaring.
Whirling like a snake
To the hill top!
I could see a world,
Building arranged like pearls,
We felt cold, but were cured!
By the majestic hot springs.
Oh we were in a hurry(were set to go)
Even though weren’t able to part,
Was filled with merry,
For have visited Al Ain
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