My first poem...

It's funny how one (re)discovers oneself through one's progeny...

When Bitti came last time, she reminded me of the promise I had made to her - that, when she is 21+, she will have access to our old diaries...

...and that is how she discovered this poem - my first (I rediscovered it)...

I was 15-and-half year old (dated 23rd Jan, 1971) when I wrote this (and was totally unaware of the prophesy of these verses to become a reality more than a quarter of a century in my life)...

At that time, I thought that this was better than William Wordsworth 1st poem:)

I measured it from side to side,
'Twas three feet long and two feet wide
:0)

In any case, this is what I had written more than 37-years back:


The Lips that were a cup of wine,
the eyes that bore a twinkle shine,
the curls that I can ever adore,
were not that day, as they're before.

The lips had peace, a calm smile.
Her face looked as a drawn profile.
The eyes that bore a twinkle gleam,
had lost it for an endless dream.

The curls that gave a joyous thrill,
were lying on the bed, sad and still.
I sat in tears besides her bed,
and sadly wept with bent down head.

In fading light the beauty slept.
With humble steps, the darkness crept....

For his daughter

Once in a while, one comes across words - written by someone else - which express things much better than one could have done oneself....

Shekhar Kapur wrote this for his daughter:

My wealth lies more in the faliures of my life than my succeses. My wealth lies in people I have known and lost. My wealth lies in the pain and the heartache of living.

My wealth lies in the memories of those moments of love that were given to me. And given by me. But my wealth also lies in letting those joyous moments and people go.

My wealth lies in all those unfullfilled dreams. In all those longings that aroused my passions. My wealth lies in all the passions I have ever felt and expressed. And those not expressed.

My wealth lies in every moment of guilt that I carry for actions done or imagined. That burden too is my wealth.

My wealth lies in every breath that I have ever breathed. Each imbued with doubts and questions and hopes and dreams. And fears.

All this wealth I bequeath to you. For you to squander to the winds..