Have almost finished reading Vishal Bharadwaj's book of poems called Nude. (More on that including a reading list post on that later).
I have loved the book....but more than the pure poems, I loved the ghazals....I have always had a deep love of ghazals, esp the metered kick which is delivered with immense rhyme and word play. A lot of the ghazals in the book are beyond stellar.
Let me start off by stating one of my favorite ones (I hope that I don't fall into copyright issues :-). Vishalji...a true fan :-) spare me).
Yeh Benares nahin hain, Dilli Hain,
Ulti Ganga yahan pe beheti hain,
Gour se delhi nude painting ko,
Kitni pakeezhki jhalakthi hain,
Ghar ki roti khilayi choohon ko,
Yeh Siyasat ajeeb billi hain,
Sher spare lage kharab ussey,
Ab toh nadeem kamayabi hain,
Rooh se jism ko uttara toh,
Buddha ke shyam jaise halki hain
Translatation (from the book too)
This is Delhi, not Benares,
Here, even the Ganga would flow in the reverse,
Look at the nude painting closely,
What purity radiates from it.
Feeding rats home made roti,
Politics is a strange cat indeed
He finds my verses worthless
Success is perhaps around the corner,
Stripped of the body, the soul
Is light like the Buddha in meditation
Images from Indian express and Harper Collins
I have loved the book....but more than the pure poems, I loved the ghazals....I have always had a deep love of ghazals, esp the metered kick which is delivered with immense rhyme and word play. A lot of the ghazals in the book are beyond stellar.
Let me start off by stating one of my favorite ones (I hope that I don't fall into copyright issues :-). Vishalji...a true fan :-) spare me).
Yeh Benares nahin hain, Dilli Hain,
Ulti Ganga yahan pe beheti hain,
Gour se delhi nude painting ko,
Kitni pakeezhki jhalakthi hain,
Ghar ki roti khilayi choohon ko,
Yeh Siyasat ajeeb billi hain,
Sher spare lage kharab ussey,
Ab toh nadeem kamayabi hain,
Rooh se jism ko uttara toh,
Buddha ke shyam jaise halki hain
Translatation (from the book too)
This is Delhi, not Benares,
Here, even the Ganga would flow in the reverse,
Look at the nude painting closely,
What purity radiates from it.
Feeding rats home made roti,
Politics is a strange cat indeed
He finds my verses worthless
Success is perhaps around the corner,
Stripped of the body, the soul
Is light like the Buddha in meditation
Images from Indian express and Harper Collins
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