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  • Goyal 16:50 on Saturday, May 12, 2007 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , , Friends, , , , , Poetry,   

    Things on my desk 

    We have shifted from our original location to a newer and uninhabited island of a place. Anyways, wanted to write down what is on my desk at the moment.

    1. A photograph of a girl jumping on a beach from Chromasia – with Floyd’s “Learning to Fly” on it
    2. ClocksColdplay
    3. Calvin & Hobbes
    4. Snap of STAR-PLUS at Indijoes (a lovely restaurant on Airport Road) in Bangalore just before the Rehman concert (which is another amazing story)
    5. Something there is that doesn’t love a wall – Akanksha
    6. Hugh Macleod
    7. IfRudyard Kipling
    8. DaffodilsWilliam Wordsworth
    9. Mending WallRobert Frost
    10. Sabka Katega – bodhiTree

    Other than these I have a laminated copy of a Charles Swindoll saying and some work related stuff.

     
  • Goyal 21:43 on Wednesday, February 14, 2007 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: Poetry,   

    Not-so-romantic poetry 

    Through bash.org

    roses are red
    violets are blue
    all of my base
    are belong to you

     
  • Goyal 12:52 on Wednesday, December 13, 2006 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: Bachchan, , Madhusala, Poetry   

    Madhusala – Bachchan 

    Madhusala by Harivansh Rai Bachchan is one of my favourite Hindi poems of all time. Below are a few excerpts from it. You can read the entire thing here.

    मुसलमान औ’ हिन्दू है दो, एक, मगर, उनका प्याला,
    एक, मगर, उनका मदिरालय, एक, मगर, उनकी हाला,
    दोनों रहते एक न जब तक मस्जिद मन्दिर में जाते,
    बैर बढ़ाते मस्जिद मन्दिर मेल कराती मधुशाला!।५०।

    आज करे परहेज़ जगत, पर, कल पीनी होगी हाला,
    आज करे इन्कार जगत पर कल पीना होगा प्याला,
    होने दो पैदा मद का महमूद जगत में कोई, फिर
    जहाँ अभी हैं मन्दिर मस्जिद वहाँ बनेगी मधुशाला।।५३।

    कभी न सुन पड़ता, ‘इसने, हा, छू दी मेरी हाला’,
    कभी न कोई कहता, ‘उसने जूठा कर डाला प्याला’,
    सभी जाति के लोग यहाँ पर साथ बैठकर पीते हैं,
    सौ सुधारकों का करती है काम अकेले मधुशाला।।५७।

    छोटे-से जीवन में कितना प्यार करुँ, पी लूँ हाला,
    आने के ही साथ जगत में कहलाया ‘जानेवाला’,
    स्वागत के ही साथ विदा की होती देखी तैयारी,
    बंद लगी होने खुलते ही मेरी जीवन-मधुशाला।।६६।

    PS: A few spellings may be incorrect but there is only that much a transliterator can do.

     
    • ritesh 17:10 on Wednesday, December 5, 2007 Permalink | Reply

      i love this poetry !!

    • jainemdra shukla 14:46 on Friday, May 9, 2008 Permalink | Reply

      its a great poem of mr. bacchan

    • jainendra shukla 14:47 on Friday, May 9, 2008 Permalink | Reply

      i like it.

    • Kunal 22:02 on Wednesday, July 23, 2008 Permalink | Reply

      One of the best poem & poet ever………

    • UJJWAL 13:22 on Friday, August 1, 2008 Permalink | Reply

      THIS IS ONE OF THE BEAUTYFUL SCRIPT OF MR. BACCHAN. WHENEVER I GO THROUGH THIS POEM, I CANT REMAIN SILENT, WITHOUT REPEATING IT ONCE MORE

    • aadesh bhardwaj 21:49 on Friday, August 29, 2008 Permalink | Reply

      I like this great poem.its great

    • aadesh bhardwaj 21:50 on Friday, August 29, 2008 Permalink | Reply

      I’m crazy about this.

    • ajay gautam 15:09 on Sunday, September 21, 2008 Permalink | Reply

      i like this type of poem because it gives us feelings of intergity of human nature.

    • vinay sharma 16:32 on Tuesday, October 28, 2008 Permalink | Reply

      i like it this poem.

    • varun pal 12:31 on Thursday, November 27, 2008 Permalink | Reply

      madhushaala is the best poerty of the world. i like it this poem. because it gives us feelings of intergity of human nature.its great

    • manoj gangwar 10:01 on Tuesday, December 30, 2008 Permalink | Reply

      we proud of mr.Bachchan for grear poem in Indian history “MADHUSALA”

    • sunil patidar 10:08 on Tuesday, December 30, 2008 Permalink | Reply

      i very like it,because it is my favraute poem

    • KAMAL PUGALIA 17:32 on Friday, March 13, 2009 Permalink | Reply

      IT POEM IS CREATE CALM AND PEACE IN COUNITY IN INDIA

    • manish 13:29 on Monday, April 20, 2009 Permalink | Reply

      no alternate in the world

    • junaid pasha 15:41 on Monday, April 27, 2009 Permalink | Reply

      it is a brillent poem

    • gaurav mishra 15:43 on Monday, April 27, 2009 Permalink | Reply

      i love this poem.
      its heart touchin……….

    • Ram Prsad Thapaliya 11:05 on Monday, November 9, 2009 Permalink | Reply

      KYa kahai sabda may jo kaha jasakla wo to madhusalane kahediya–just say wow

    • manish 11:02 on Saturday, September 11, 2010 Permalink | Reply

      i m ur great fan amitji

    • Pradeep kumar 22:48 on Tuesday, September 14, 2010 Permalink | Reply

      Mere jevan ka rah dikhati madhusala

    • samrat dubey 3:12 on Sunday, September 19, 2010 Permalink | Reply

      very good

    • gopal chandra 7:29 on Saturday, July 16, 2011 Permalink | Reply

      मुसलमान औ’ हिन्दू है दो, एक, मगर, उनका प्याला,
      एक, मगर, उनका मदिरालय, एक, मगर, उनकी हाला,
      दोनों रहते एक न जब तक मस्जिद मन्दिर में जाते,
      बैर बढ़ाते मस्जिद मन्दिर मेल कराती मधुशाला!।५०।

      आज करे परहेज़ जगत, पर, कल पीनी होगी हाला,
      आज करे इन्कार जगत पर कल पीना होगा प्याला,
      होने दो पैदा मद का महमूद जगत में कोई, फिर
      जहाँ अभी हैं मन्दिर मस्जिद वहाँ बनेगी मधुशाला।।५३।

      कभी न सुन पड़ता, ‘इसने, हा, छू दी मेरी हाला’,
      कभी न कोई कहता, ‘उसने जूठा कर डाला प्याला’,
      सभी जाति के लोग यहाँ पर साथ बैठकर पीते हैं,
      सौ सुधारकों का करती है काम अकेले मधुशाला।।५७।

      छोटे-से जीवन में कितना प्यार करुँ, पी लूँ हाला,
      आने के ही साथ जगत में कहलाया ‘जानेवाला’,
      स्वागत के ही साथ विदा की होती देखी तैयारी,
      बंद लगी होने खुलते ही मेरी जीवन-मधुशाला।।६६।

  • Goyal 17:04 on Friday, December 1, 2006 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , Pablo Neruda, Poetry   

    Poetry – Pablo Neruda 

    Read a lot of Neruda poems in the past few days. Here are some lines I liked.

    Poetry

    And it was at that age…Poetry arrived
    in search of me. I don’t know, I don’t know where
    it came from, from winter or a river.
    I don’t know how or when,
    no, they were not voices, they were not
    words, nor silence,
    but from a street I was summoned,
    from the branches of night,
    abruptly from the others,
    among violent fires
    or returning alone,
    there I was without a face
    and it touched me.

    Saddest Poem

    I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
    My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.

    Someone else’s. She will be someone else’s. As she once
    belonged to my kisses.
    Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.

    I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
    Love is so short and oblivion so long.

    Love Sonnet XVII

    I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
    I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
    so I love you because I know no other way

    in which there is no I or you
    so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand
    so intimate that when you fall asleep it is my eyes that close

    ~Pablo Neruda~

     
    • manz 18:39 on Tuesday, December 12, 2006 Permalink | Reply

      nice i love neruda poetry it takes you somwhere else…beyond the physical existance, reality and world. His poetry is divine

    • Goyal 18:59 on Tuesday, December 12, 2006 Permalink | Reply

      @manz

      I am a huge poetry fan. On my workdesk currently are, If – Kipling, Mending Wall – Frost, Daffodils – Wordsworth, and Love Sonnet XVII.

      I hadn’t read much or Neruda prior to this but watched Patch Adams and fell in love.

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