deponti

Is that a dead cat?
No, no, not that!
It's a cat that's at ease:
It's a cat with the cream...AND the cheese;
On the grass, with eyes closed
Stretched out and unfurled:
Not bothered, not posed
Not a care in the world...

I wish I could put by
All my worries this way
And be the picture of contentment
Let the world go its way!

Where can a man buy a cap for his knee, Or a key to a lock of his hair?
Can his eyes be called an academy Because there are pupils there?


Is the crown of your head where jewels are found? Who travels the bridge of your nose?
If you wanted to shingle the roof of your mouth, Would you use the nails on your toes?


Can you sit in the shade of the palm of your hand, Or beat on the drum of your ear?
Can the calf in your leg eat the corn off your toe? Then, why not grow corn on the ear?


Can the crook in your elbow be sent to jail? If so, just what did he do?
How can you sharpen your shoulder blades? Ill be darned if I know do you?

Why...
Do I want to try
To be the official scribe
As the cyclists pedal furiously
Across the hills?
Because...
Through the course...
I'd able to describe
All I'd experience, and see.
The wheres, the whens, the hows, and the whys...
The thrills, the chills, the spills
As the bikers sail across the Blue
Mountains...trying adventure for size...
Take some pictures: videos, too!
I could see their dreams
With my eyes, and write
How they climbed slopes and forded streams;
How they exchanged anecdotes,
Danced together, sang some notes....
I'd share their points of view;
Record their moods, both heavy and light
Every little incident;
The pedal that fell off, the wheel that bent:
The final push, the incredible thrill,
Of conquering distance with one's will....
Click their faces, as they passed
The victorious finishing line at last...
Have, at the end, a memorable journal
Of the cyclists' efforts diurnal.
I want to be the Official Blogger(if you please)
Of the 2009 Tour of the Nilgiris!

I look around...I can walk many a mile,
I find I'm never bored;
Not in sunshine, not in rain,
I can find beauty in a drain.



I just felt I had to smile
A look at this switchboard...
I really liked that humorous touch,
That, without talking, says so much.



Even something that is for just a while,
Something I cannot hoard:
A happy touch by my daughter
Seems to make honey of plain water!

"Look at that moon,
Hanging from the cloud,
Like a cashewnut," my daughter said.
Her simile was apt, and soon
I photographed the scene... and, proud
Of her observation, posted it here... wanting it read!

Two little sparrows
Sitting on a fence
As my distance narrows
They use their common sense...
Step in between those arrows
To get away from my lens!



House Sparrows are such delightful birds; they adapt to our ways, live amidst us, and are yet creatures of their own world....

( quite a few, click only if you are named Ravi Kiran, or just interested )

I got some more number plates for my collection from The Beast.... :) this is an unending hobby!

The path leads away...out of sight.
Green and inviting, it beckons...
Says, "Leave your daily life,
Come with me...you will discover something new
Unexpected,surprising,intriguing...."
Are we able to answer the call?
Or we do turn our backs on it?
Or...do we pretend we didn't hear at all?

Her eyes tight shut,
She sleeps, her mouth in a beautiful bow;
Is she dreaming?
What do babies dream about?
I don't know...

All I know is, my heart goes out to her.
I caress her downy cheek.
I must live half a world away from her...
I must get used to not having her in my life
After having seen her, every hour,every day, every week...

Approaching motherhood
Colours one's life, one's thoughts.
So it's fitting
That one's hands and wrists
Are filled with colour, too;
The rainbows that the little one will soon bring,
The good wishes that friends pour into one's life,
And the prayer that the baby will be healthy and happy.





The baby for whom this was done is now more than a year old! :) And she is a real delight.

For some birding friends of mine who, looking at a non-typical tail on a Black Drongo, id'ed it as a Drongo Cuckoo:



Sometimes drongos get a divided tail
Sometimes in this task they fail
If we birders get the id wrongo
It's *we* who're cuckoo, not the drongo!


Here's one pic I took of the BLACK DRONGO, a long time ago:

If you're feeling tired
And you want to park your butt
What do you do if the ground is wet
And all the parks are shut?

You don't look for comfort,
You just want to cut
To the chase and find a seat
That's already marked "Butts"!





So what if you can't sit well,
And it isn't enough for butt and nuts?
You're just glad that at least there is
A seat meant for everyone's butts!

har khushi hai lOgOn ke dAman mEin,
par Ek hansi kE liyE waqt nahin.
din rAth daudthi duniyA mEin
zindagee kE liyE hee waqt nahin.


mA kee loree kA ehsAs thO hai,
par mA kO mA kehnE kA waqt nahin.
sArE rishtOn kO thO hum mAr chukE...
ab unhe dafnAnE kA bhee waqt nahin.

sArE nAm mobile mEin hain...
par dOstee kE liyE waqt nahin.
gairOn kee kyA bAth karEn...
jab apnOn kE liyE hee waqt nahin.


AnkhOn mE hai neend badee..
par sOnE kA waqt nahin.
dil hair ghamOn sE bharA huA...
par rOnE kA bhee waqt nahin.

paisOn kee daud mE aisE daudE,
ki thhaknE kA bhee waqt nahin.
parAyE ehsAsOn kee kyA kadr karEin--
jap apnE sapnOn kE liyE hee waqt nahin.


thoo hi bathA Ey zindagi...
iss zindagi kA kyA hogA?
ki har pal marnE wAlOn kO
jeenE kE liyE bhee waqt nahin.

********

ROUGH translation:


people have every pleasure:
but there is no time for a single smile.
day and night,in this world
there is no time for life.

we've experienced the mother's lullaby,
but there is no time to address one's mother as such.
we have killed off all our relations...
we have no time even to bury them.

all the names are on the mobile...
but there is no time for friendship.
why should we talk of others
when there is no time for one's own?

the eyes are drooping...
there is no time for sleep.
the heart is filled with woes...
there is no time to weep.

we run so much after money
that there is no time to be tired.
how can we bother about others' experiences
when there is no time for our own dreams?

you tell me, O Life...
what is to happen to this life?
when those who die every moment
have no time to even live....


**************

My reply to the friend who sent me this forward:


mujhE khushi hai ki ApnE iss kavitA kO

mujhE bhEjnE kA waqt nikAlA!

zindagee kee bAki parEshAniyOn kE beech,

dOsthi nibhAnE kA samay nikAlA!


(I am happy that you took the time to send me this poem. In the midst of the other troubles of life, you took the time to celebrate our friendship.)

Many people count their age in moons,
Not just by their orbits around the sun;
This white orb marks the end of a day, an age, a life:
It may be just this day, or all your days, that are done.

Sailing serenely through the scudding clouds,
Marked for ever by the footprint of Man:
We may have reached the surface of the moon,
But not touched the depths of our own hearts, the way the moon can.

I look up into the night sky,
Into the cool light of the full moon:
Reflect on the transcience of beauty,
That will start waning, soon.....

From his latest album, "Inteha"...

AyinA sAmnE rakhOgE, thO yAd AoongA
apni zulfOn kO savArOgE thO yAd AoongA

bhool jAnA mujhE AsAn nahin hai itnA
jab mujhE bhoolnA chAhogE thO yAd AoongA

ek din bheegE thE barsAt mein hum tum dOnOn
ab jO barsAt mEn bheegOgeE thO yAd AoongA

yAd AoongA udAsi ki jO rut AyEgi
jab kOi jashn manAOgE thO yAd AoongA

AyinA sAmnE rakhOgE thO yAd AoongA..



When you place the mirror in front of you, I will come to mind
When you dress your hair, I will come to mind...

It's not so easy to forget me;
When you want to forget me, I will come to mind

Once, you and I were drenched in the rain..
Now, when you get wet in the rain, I will come to mind

I will come to mind when the moments of sadness come
And when you celebrate, I will come to mind...

When you place the mirror before yourself, I will come to mind...

inspirethoughts.....buy the album if you can!

Today, most unusually, Biddles fussed, and fussed, and fussed...I think the milk was NOT to her liking....I have not had a minute all day, and I am tired! So..no write-worthy thoughts occur to me, except the attraction of that bed upstairs...but she's smiling up at me so sweetly and cooing...

I need to record these epitaphs:

Here lies John Bunn
He was killed by a gun
His name was not Bunn, but Wood..
But Wood would not rhyme with "gun"..
And "Bunn" would.


************


Here lies a man who was killed by lightning
He died when his prospects seemed to be brightening.
He might have cut a flash in this world of trouble...
But the flash cut him....and he lies in the stubble.

What will they do
When they meet again?
Walk quietly in the park.
Let the silences speak.
Hold hands in the dark.
Let happiness wash off the pain
Of separation.
Shed a few tears.
Trembling, emotional,weak,
Speak of their fears
That their meeting would be too
Tough after the preparation.
Find each other the same.
Whisper each other's name.
Experience a little bliss
As they exchange a kiss.
Let one's joy pour into the other's heart
Erase the pain of having been apart.

inspirethoughts..how do you like my romantic verse? "mein shAyar thO nahin..."!

( more about 'milan'.... )

Of the eight rasAs, shringAra rasA, or romantic love, is divided into two: yOga shring!r and viyOga shringAr: love in the forms of being together, and of separation.

People move on...it's wise
To release someone,and realise
That it's not that they like you less
It's just a game of chess
Where the action has moved
From the square where you stand.
Something has been removed
Someone's flying onwards; you are still bound to the land.


The boat floats past, that's its nature:
The riverbank cannot think of the boat as its own.
Once again, one's alone...
To know this is to be mature:
Rather give thanks for what one had,
Wish the other person well,
Than hold on to the past, and be sad,
Repine... and suffer more than one can tell.

When a bird wants to fly, it flutters in your hand;
It might tarry a little if you hold it tightly;
You cannot hold it long, you have to understand...
Let go when you feel the flutter even slightly.

Friendships come to an end,
The leaves fall from the tree:
To accept this, and continue to be a friend
Can show how the level of one's maturity.
To accept the passage of time is wise...
But...so many people are otherwise.

I have stopped taking MLC2 out with me on my morning walk these days....it's summer, and I have to leave really early to get back before the temperature rises to uncomfortable levels, and I don't feel all that safe to be carting it around. But a few days ago, I did, and here are some random things that I caught...


A lovely Cardinal that needs the wind to move:




I took up a challenge that I have to prove...

I said I'd link up these pictures with verse..no matter if my readers see red, and curse!


( Read more... )

These lions are celebrating one hundred years !







I did it, I did it! :)

These images truly took my breath away;
I do love the mountains and the streams,
The springs and the snow.
With all the trappings of men,
These scenes are yet pristine and clear.
It takes me to when the rivers' flow
Was not dammed and broken.
In my dreams
I take the unfrequented ways
Filled with flowers, Nature's token
Of benison for creatures here.
It was not a time when
Man had left his mark on the lands,
Or wandered over the country in large despoiling bands.
These images make me sleep...
And dream of Paradise that's still ours to keep.
Nature's not kind, but always fair;
Those who are the fittest can survive...
Breathe the free, pure air,
Flourish, and thrive.




Storm gathering beyond Olmsted Point






Tree growing on granite at Olmsted Point



( More scenes from Yosemite )







Yosemite sunset


No photographs can do justice to Nature's majesty....