Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Citizen Rose.....

Gardens, like Life, are never about landscaping and show.    Or an obsession with everything being photogenic.

Like each of us,  the flowers that grow along , say, walking paths,  are a diverse mixture of color, flower frequency, physical appearance, proclivity to bending, stubbornness, and ability to slog.  Like each of us, some of them are social, and some reek superiority and some simply pretend.  Some simply face whatever fate has in store for them, keep working with hope and no expectations , and cheerfully rejoice when by chance , something nice happens.

And they all have, what can only be called a human background. A growth story.  

My friend Zephyr Nag clicked this photo of a rose , as it bloomed and emerged from the hoi polloi greens  , to one side of her early morning walking path.

Why ?  She says, I have the reason spot-on.    :-)

It's tough
facing masses
of crotons and ferns,

smug in their
cutting mobility
and wanderings.

it is difficult
facing the jasmines
climbing high
on society bowers,
and looking down
in superior fragrant attitude.

And so often ,
it is about the
unruly bougainvilleas
crowding life spaces,
flaunting their variety
and fake combinations
claiming unity in "color".

And so she sits,
quiet and busy
in the hedges,
so many go by,
and quietly prepares
for her day,
sharing with her
whatever the Earth grants her.

it is a thorny life.
Sometimes, too dry,
because the sky
often controls its tears.

But hope
is eternal,
and she struggles her way out
a healthy pink
from her efforts at exercise
trying to emerge
from the mass
of greens;
looks up at the Sun,
and smiles,
and says to her "bud"dies,
" See, waiting has its rewards;
I knew Zephyr
would finally come this way
on her morning walk."..
काही हरहुन्नरी रंगीबेरंगी क्रोटन्स,
आपल्याच नक्षीत
कौतुकात बुडलेली पाने,
आणि "पाय टेकिन तिथे चिकटीन"
अशी मातीला धमकी .

आणि मग कधी कधी
कमनीय प्रकारे वेलावर चढणारी
आणि सुंदर श्वास सोडत
ललनांच्या प्रिय गज्र्यांचे
स्वप्न बघत
एकात एक मिसळणारी,
इतर सर्वांकडे बघून पाकळी उडवणारी
जाई जुई ...

कधीतरी एका बेशिस्त क्षणी
कशाचीही फिकीर न करता
जागेवर आपला कब्जा करण्यासाठी
लोकशाहीचे नाटक करत
सर्व रंग एकात एक मिसळून
अतोक्रमण करत
सर्वत्र बेताल पसरणारा गुंड बोगंविल्ला ...

अशीच एका बाजूला ती दिवस काढते ,
पानांमध्ये सावलीत रेलून
जमिनी तून जे मिळेल
ते गोड मानत
आपल्या सह कळ्याना
त्यातला वाटा देत,
राहील त्यासाठी देवाचे आभार मानत
हळु हळु मोठी होते,
आणि आपल्याच भविष्याच्या
पाकळ्यात गुंडाळली जाते .

जग हे काटेरीच ,
आणि कधीकधी
अवकाशही कोर्डे अश्रू ढाळ्ते .

पण तिने आयुष्यात
खूप काटे बघितलेत,
सहन केलेत ,
आणि प्रबळ इच्छाशक्तीच्या जोरावर
ती हळु हळु
हिरव्या पानांच्या पडद्यातून,
अतीव श्रमाने चेहर्यावर गुलाबी लेउन
उमलत बाहेर येते ,
सकाळच्या ताज्या सूर्याकडे
बघून हस्ते आणि म्हणते ,
" कळ्यांनो , वाट बघत काम करत राहायचं ….
आपल्याला मनातल मिळतं !
मला माहित होत
आज सकाळी झेफीर मला भेटायला यॆइल
आणि फ़ोटो काढेल …."


  1. You got the reason spot on and it is as exhilarating as eerie for someone know exactly how you were feeling at that particular moment :) Thanks for the wonderful verses. Could you also do it in Marathi please?

    1. Just did the Marathi version ! Read !

    2. This reads even better and more emotional! Thank you, Suranga :)