Days of meeting have come at last Face to face with life, I have come at last Frustrate was I with the World around me, Light has entered my life at last.
AWAKENING(1)Days of meeting have come at lastFace to face with life, I have come at lastFrustrate was I with the World around me,Light has entered my life at last.(2)Why can?t I be distanced from time?Why is each man tangled in thePuzzle of time?(3)There must be some limitTo sorrow-There must be some cure for the ailing heart.Drowned will I be one dayIn the ocean of sorrowWhat then will be the face of the tumult?(4)Waiting there shall be no more,No more any sorrow in my heart,Now face to face with my own reflection-Mirror holds my faith no more.(5)I am troubled by my own self-They are troubled by me.Now it?s best to travel to a placeWhere desires are no more.(6)Listen to meBruised heart,Do nothing for them-Those who were your well-wishersYesterday-Are now enemies.Bereft of shameThey have sold themselves for gain.You give yourself restYou give yourself peace.Listen to meO bruised heartDo nothing for them.(7)Mirror has no face-It seeks soul and meaningOnly to reflect itFor others? benefitAfter all, you are yourself a mirrorOn you the gaze stillsTo derive Life?s soulMeaning and identity.(8)In city crowds, one dayI lost myselfDistanced was I so muchFrom myself.(9)Enough sorrows there areIn my heart.For self-evaluationJoy should come sometimes-To ease them away.(10)At a certain pointMemories forsook meNow, I keep memories awayMy heart is a haven for sadnessIts true face long forgotten.(11)She fled, moments fled,Memories of the past remainedIn the depths of sadness,Desires kept burning.At this juncture, what more is thereTo be seen?The eyes held the cloudsIn their reins-(12)Sorrows create modes of beingNot joy,Seasons teem with many colours-But of contentment?s colour-There is no trace.(13)What dignity there is in absolute quietTo pay only what the heart heelsTo hear only what the heart saysTo think of oneself as mirrorAnd identify with one?s reflectionDistanced from anxietyIn poetic imagination.Extracted from NAZARIYA by Vinod Anand ?Nazar? and translated by Meera Panigrahie-mail: email@example.com