Friday, July 3, 2015

ON MY SECOND COMING

 
view of Afghanistan  mountains




Cloudscape


   







The Caspian Sea
     Aerial view of   Kiev





 





      Exactly after three years since my first visit, England called me again, of course to see
 my daughter and son-in-law who had shifted to their own residence. As we entered the international air port in Delhi, the long chain of shops displaying various exotic wine bottles and liquors on shelves made me feel very strange and wonder whether I came to the wine-making country like France or Tuscany in Italy. The traditional Indian touch is conspicuous by its absence. Every where the impact of western culture showed its predominant influence. Even in restaurants western food items and beverages occupied a major part of the menu with staggering price tags.

       As our plane took off, I composed myself cramped in between two fellow-passengers
with very narrow space to stretch my limbs. Many elderly people were seen struggling in their seats in a hapless condition.  Like pretty dolls the crew flitted to and fro offering exotic 
food and mouthing platitudes of providing a luxurious travel. I found young people clicking selfies in quick succession jostling and pushing on each other's shoulders, laughing loudly without heeding other people's notice.

     Our plane flew over Lahore and entered the mountainous region of Kabul. The 
formidable view of dry rocky terrain stretching miles and miles with scarcely a touch of green patch or a flowing stream  gave me a shuddering view of the barren earth, if men exhaust the precious resources of Nature by their unrestrained and reckless ways. Later our plane flew over a wide stretch of plains dotted with dark patches of trees and fields. We crossed the vast stretches of sandy region before we flew over the Caspian sea which appeared just like a thin shallow stream from our aerial view. The sky with huge masses of fluffy clouds seemed like the mythical milky ocean with mounds of white cream and butter floating on its surface. When we flew over the cities the houses seemed as tiny as squares on a grid or small dice on a chess board. Thousands of houses in broad clusters dotted the whole area with long lines in between which  were actually roads on which vehicles were moving like a long line of tiny ants. The curved course of rivers crisscrossing the green earth presented a graceful picture of the earth. During most part of our journey  we saw vast stretches of grey plains with little squares of vegetation and clusters of buildings scattered here and there. Scarcely any living creature came within the  range of our view as our plane was flying at an altitude of more than thirty-six thousand feet above  the ground.

    On viewing the route map I found that we were flying across the outskirts of the Ukrainian region maintaining a safe distance from Ukrainian cities like Astrachen, Kharkov and Kiev which were endangered by war-torn conflicts between the Russian-backed rebels and Ukrainian soldiers. While I was absorbed in my idle observation, the air hostess came offering soft drinks and beverages. Though I had no mind to drink anything; her soft, persuasive voice tempted me to accept a cup of black coffee with very little milk and sugar in it. Though I tried to make it palatable by adding milk powder and lumps of sugar, it gave me a hell of taste which I will never forget in my life.


View of  London 
          

view of the Thames


     













   As we neared London a vast conglomeration of little squares with dark patches and squares greeted our eyes. Through this haphazard expanse of squares a long meandering silver stream came into our view with many bridged spanning across its banks. The prominent mark of London is this life-sustaining water source, the ever-flowing Thames and of course, the London Bridge with her two projecting twin towers. The water in the Thames appeared brown as our plane made a gradual descent. It may be due to erosion of the soil by the swift flowing waters. The London streets flanked by dense green trees and thickets on the wayside seemed same as they had been when I made my first trip. The gabled roofs with jutting chimneys and brick-colored walls in symmetrical shapes indicated the conservative and sombre British spirit of giving importance to the traditional outlook in spite of adapting to the latest technology in everyday life. As I was absorbed in my thoughts, the pilot made a very smooth landing and the flight crew in their most humble customary manner wished us a very happy stay in London.
   
                             ***************************************************

        4th July, 2015                                                                                Somaseshu Gutala

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

A STRANGER AT MY WINDOW

     




         




























                        1)        A funny resemblance betwixt us I find
                                   Her naughty face and antics made me laugh
                                   Her mates followed her as if to stop
                                   Her from me, sensing my human mind ;
                                   "You, selfish man", they seemed to say
                                   With brutal frankness, soon they leapt  away.

                       2)        A brutal manly figure doth appear
                                  Unkempt, hairy with savage gaze
                                  Beating his chest with hearty craze
                                  No lofty desires polluted his conscience clear
                                  Moving freely in Nature wild, content
                                  With whatever he got without complaint.

                       3)       Though sucking blood from wounded beast
                                 Though felling trees for his shelter small
                                 With simple needs he lived with all ;
                                 No cruel greed did mar his feast
                                 A savage beast -- we cultured call
                                 To inhuman levels did he never fall.

                      4)       His language not yet formed so sweet
                                His routine seems too crude, not so refined;
                                His thoughts too simple with a taintless mind
                                His garments coarse, not so civilized and neat
                                His actions too childish and not so mature
                                His ambitions too low, but not impure.

                     5)       Destructive fury did not compel his needs
                               He communed with Nature with friendly sense
                               He touched each herb with respect immense
                               Deified all creatures without any greed.
                               His rough tongue exulted in simple strains
                               Adoring Nature, inflicting no pain.

                    6)       The stranger found me lost in musings wild
                               My ancestral roots did I search in vain;
                               My softened looks welcomed her without disdain ;
                               She came near me unafraid like a child
                               Like a fallen angel I felt within
                               Before her far away from any sin.

                   7)        A cunning intellect corrupted man
                              A devouring demon-like strength did he aspire
                              Self-declared Lord of the universe entire
                              Plundering and robbing Nature far worse than
                              A devil ; so much violence that one can't tell ;
                              He drilled his grave into bottomless hell.

                   8)       Her innocent looks cut through my heart
                             Questioning human's insatiable might
                             That ruined precious life-- a sordid sight !
                             Misusing God-given powers for naught
                             Filling this whole world with pollution
                             Defiling land, air, space and ocean.

                  9)       I glanced at her hiding in a nook
                            I beckoned her standing steady and calm
                            A dehumanized beast in human form --
                            She watched me with a suspicious look ;
                            A suffering soul in beastly form in her I find
                            She found in me a human beast with selfish mind.

                 10)     She neared the casement with a cautious look
                           As I responded with a gentle smile ;
                           A friendly creature untouched by human guile ;
                           Her hairy hands she vigorously shook
                           And from the casement took a rapid leap agile
                           Through swinging branches vanished shaking her tail.

                                      ===============================

                  30th June, 2015                                    Somaseshu Gutala


     Note:  In spite of his rough and simple ways, the primitive man who had not
                much intellectual development and comforts lags far behind when 
                compared with modern man who uses all his abilities just for his
                selfish benefits destroying many valuable plant and animal life ,posing 
                a potential threat to all creatures on this earth, including himself.
                So the creature in this poem mistrusts man though he feels guilty of
                his cruel acts, and tries to show compassion towards her. He reflects
                on his ancestral roots which takes him back to savage level and brutal
                stage too. He realizes his degradation from human to animal level in
                spite of his development in so many fields. 
                
        " We will never have true civilization until we have learned to recognize 
           the rights of others."
                                                                                                     (Will Rogers)
                ************************************************************************             



       
                                 
   
                                    


       

Sunday, June 28, 2015

TRAVEL POEMS (PART--III) "A PILGRIM'S SEARCH"

                       
                                              A PILGRIM'S SEARCH



           













               



                                                         











                     
                          1)      Starry-eyed I look forth to break
                                   Through routine-grid and slake
                                   My soul with fresh ethereal trip;
                                   No guessing of unforeseen slip.
                                   My earthly burden bowed me down
                                   No jousting knight-a whining weather-beaten clown.

                         2)       I climbed aloft to gaze at the peak
                                   Strained every nerve to see the divine streak
                                   Assuming virtuous strength to touch
                                   The sublime summit, but not much;
                                   I sensed -- a sinking fatigue down
                                   Not a blooming lotus--a withering brown.

                         3)       Dipped in cool laving stream
                                   I couldn't shake off my leaden dream;
                                   In tinkling bells of sacred sound
                                   No heavenly thrill I found;
                                   I guzzled my senses with pleasures full
                                   Not yet freed from the mundane pull.

                         4)       Before the shrine I bowed and stood
                                   My filthy passions rugged and crude
                                   With fiery tongues full-hooded broke
                                   No change from sacred chant and smoke
                                   Stuck to the ground I could not feel
                                   Unresponsive as a bar of steel.

                        5)        Is this a journey, just moving on and on
                                   A lifeless load without inner dawn ?
                                   The distant denizens of the sky 
                                   Beckoned me, yet I can only sigh ;
                                   No passionate God-centered eye;
                                   I moved on and on with a soul-stifled cry.

                        6)        Immersed in deep soul-soothing sleep
                                   I clomb within the summits steep
                                   A ring of rain-bow tinted rays
                                   Gleamed at once from star-studded ways
                                   A bursting tide of bliss with flooding love
                                   I felt the touch of Ganges gushing from above.
                                            
                                         *********************************
                                         

                     28th June, 2015                                       Somaseshu Gutala
                               

                     Ref: 
                               Ethereal trip  = thinking about divine topics.
                              Jousting Knight = Engaged in fighting like a warrior 
                              Weather-beaten clown = tired fool or rustic.
                              Leaden dreams = Lazy and sluggish mental state
                              Blooming lotus  =  mental joy and unfoldment
                              Withering brown = faded and dull state like a fallen leaf
                              fiery and full-hooded = Impure thoughts rise like serpents.
                              Clomb = An old word for "Climbed"

                Note:    In this last "Travel Poems" series the pilgirm's search for 
                            getting spiritual peace is revealed. Though the pilgrim 
                            undertakes an arduous journey to see the temple, he
                            does not get mental peace. He mechanically goes through
                            all formalities but his mind filled with wordly attachments
                            and impure thoughts did not make him worthy of getting
                            true spiritual bliss. After returning home he fell asleep tired
                            and frustrated. Suddenly he felt his mind freed from worries 
                            and he felt a wave of bliss as if he was bathed in the holy
                            waters of Ganges.Unless we are mentally pure, just change
                            of place will not affect us much. If not, 
                           "Travelling is a fool's paradise" (Ralph Waldo Emerson)
                           
                     
                                       
                                                  

Friday, June 26, 2015

TRAVEL POEMS (Part--I) " STARTING ON A JOURNEY"

                                                     
                                            STARTING ON A JOURNEY





                           










                                           











                                       1)       Far, far away from weary rut
                                                  For new eye-catching realms I yearn
                                                  Life here became a dreary din
                                                  A brief respite, a refreshing spin
                                                  Though tiresome it seems, a spurt
                                                  Of feeling for new places doth burn.

                                        2)       To meet new faces and new places fine
                                                   To feel the lilt of moving forward
                                                   To stretch my mind beyond this present
                                                   Routine with a sense of refreshment;
                                                   I may not touch the starry shine
                                                   At least to break this boredom hard.

                                       3)      I waited and waited with dreams full-blown
                                                 A vague mysterious feeling sown
                                                 No thought of expenses, though hard I feel
                                                 Yet once in a while, a joyous trip to heal
                                                 I dreamt of being an uplifted soul
                                                 To pen soft lyrics in a thrilling tone.

                                      4)       To shimmering foam of sea I rush
                                                 To stretch and cull cute curly shells
                                                 To plunge in russet-colored sun set
                                                 To move on soft sands dripping wet
                                                 To glance at blue horizon's hush
                                                 To hear the screams of streaming sea gulls.

                                      5)      'midst rocks and crystal springs I'll spend
                                                Relaxing on soft bed of grass
                                                Absorbed in lush greenery around
                                                Away from pollution and rattling sound
                                                I hear a harmonious blend
                                                Of music in zephyrs as they pass.

                                     6)      I'll sport with fields retreating with speed
                                               As I move on the train with swinging thrill;
                                               A happy time to view the distant scene
                                              Of wavy tops of hills carpeted green;
                                              The swish of fresh rustling breeze do I feel
                                              The rising hills welcome as they recede.

                                   7)        As days rolled by, my heart beat fast
                                               So much I hoped unmindful of wealth 
                                               To spend ; a treat for me to share the bliss
                                               With near and dear; none seemed amiss ;
                                               I feel the dream come true at last
                                               I'm ready in good spirits and health,

                                   8)        Yet all my plans sank down like lead
                                               Weak will and conditions not good
                                               Hassled against my long-awaited trip ;
                                               My plans gave me a shocking slip ;
                                               I stand like a dry stump  struck dead ;
                                               Is it a folly to hope too much ahead?

                                       +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

              26th June, 2015                                                          Somaseshu Gutala                                
                                                    
             

        Note :  For    most of us travel seems to be one of the  ways of  relaxing
                     and taking a break from the dreary routine.  Though Francis Bacon,
                     the famous essayist, says that "Travel in younger sort, is a part of education
                     in the elder, a part of experience", very few except scholars or scientists do
                     go with such preordained plans and motives. Most of us agree with
                     R.L.Stevenson's words: "For my part I travel not to go anywhere but to go;
                     I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move." AS Seneca said "Travel
                     and change of place impart new vigor to the mind." So we make so many
                     plans . But sometimes our plans  do not materialise, and we feel like the 
                     traveller in Robert Frost's poem "The Road Not Taken " who muses on the
                     the road he has not chosen. 
                      
                       
                        

Thursday, June 25, 2015

TRAVEL POEMS ( PART-- II ) " THE JOURNEY'S END "

                                                       
                                     
                                                 THE  JOURNEY'S  END


      




                     











                       
Polluting the surroundings

Litter thrown by tourists











   










                   1)        We leaped and leaped on vales and hills
                               We toured beyond the mountain rills
                               We busied ourselves too much
                               In our beastly ways -- no tender touch
                               We boasted of our journey great
                               Our dynamic scintillating state
                               Like moving robots did we seem
                               Just speed mattered-- no visionary gleam.

                   2)         We rushed through many places swift
                               No waste of time or rest and no uplift
                               We found no time to take within
                               The thrills of senses-- a dreary spin.
                               We freaked and freaked and squeaked a lot
                               We cursed, flirted and fought
                               We shouted without reason or rhyme
                               We hummed and huffed to kill our time.

                3)           We stunned the silent woody ways
                              By savage so-called cultured lays
                              We struck some postures to sneer and stare
                              And clicked some happy moments to share
                              We whizzed and whistled with buoyant pride
                              We throw last morsels by wayside
                              Unmindful of the begging lot
                              We drank and danced in a pretty spot.

              4)            We moved around as if in a circle still
                             Devoid of fresh vision and thrill
                             Our journey ended and soon we went
                             Dead-tired , a hell of time we spent;
                             We moved but not enriched a bit
                             Our trip-- a comic self-exhausting skit;
                             A dreary speeding senseless fad
                             No shock of discovery we had. 
                                     ++++++++++++++++


        25th June, 2015                                                     Somaseshu Gutala                                              
        
        Note:  We start our journey with so many hopes but we do not spare time
                  to realise our dreams. Gentle and sympathetic observation of places
                  and people are lacking. Preoccupied with our external and material
                  comforts we do not care to imbibe something about the significance
                  of the places we are visiting. We are swirled in a rush of moving to
                  various places and we come back with blank minds, exhausted
                  by the unnecessary strain we made for ourselves. If Not, just like
                  the pilgrims in Nissim Ezekiel's poem "Enterprise" we have to say:

                  "We noticed nothing as we went" 
                  "We hardly know why we were there
                   The trip had darkened every face."



            

Thursday, June 11, 2015

WHO CAN MEASURE THY BOUNDLESS LOVE ?


              "Surrender to the Divine is the best emotional protection." -- The Mother






                    
      
             


                   








                                          We view Thee as heedless and sadistic fate
                                   Playing with us,deep buried in ignorance blind
                                   When hardships strike us,challenging our state
                                   We blame Thee as mysterious destiny unkind;

                                   An easy way to convince our egoistic brain
                                   Forgetting our past sins we fondly moan
                                   Hiding our guilty acts with stress and strain
                                   Not bold enough our latent faults to own;

                                   Who can measure Thy boundless love for all ?
                                   Thou Ocean of Mercy beyond our surmise !
                                   The basest sinners with love you perceive
                                   Patiently waiting for our earnest call ;
                                   Forgiving us with redeeming patience wise;
                                   Our woes, just ways Thy blessings to receive.

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

                     11th June, 2015                                                         Somaseshu Gutala                            
                        Note: In this sonnet I have blended the octave (first eight lines) of the
                                   Shakespearean pattern with the sestet (six lines) of the Miltonic
                                  pattern to produce variety in movement and rhythm.