Sparsh

CREATION HYMN from the RIG VEDA Translation by V. V. Raman, University of Rochester Not even nothing existed then No air yet, nor a heaven. Who encased and kept it where? Was water in the darkness there? Neither deathlessness nor decay No, nor the rhythm of night and day: The self-existent, with breath sans air: That, and that alone was there. Darkness was in darkness found Like light-less water all around. One emerged, with nothing on It was from heat that this was born. Into it, Desire, its way did find: The primordial seed born of mind. Sages know deep in the heart: What exists is kin to what does not. Across the void the cord was thrown, The place of every thing was known. Seed-sowers and powers now came by, Impulse below and force on high. Who really knows, and who can swear, How creation came, when or where! Even gods came after creation's day, Who really knows, who can truly say When and how did creation start? Did He do it? Or did He not? Only He...

Baanwra Man from Hazaaron Khwahishen Aisi. I really liked that song and got at the Hindi lyrics from a blog of a great guy . The song is “Baanwra Man” - an amazing composition by Shantanu Moitra. There is a feeling of yearning in the lyrics by Swanand Kirkire. He has himself sung the song as well, and rendition is real soulful. Here are the lyrics: बाँवरा मन देखने चला एक सपना। बाँवरा मन देखने चला एक सपना। बाँवरे से मन की देखो बाँवरी हैं बातें। बाँवरे से मन की देखो बाँवरी हैं बातें। बाँवरी सी धड़कने हैं, बाँवरी हैं साँसे। बाँवरी सी करवटो से, निंदिया तू भागे। बाँवरे से नयन चाहे,बाँवरे झरोकों से, बाँवरे नज़ारों को,तकना। बाँवरा मन देखने चला एक सपना। बाँवरे से इस जहाँ मे, बाँवरा एक साथ हो। इस सयानी भीड़ मे, बस हाथों मे तेरा हाथ हो। बाँवरी सी धुन हो कोई, बाँवरा एक राग हो। बाँवरे से पैर चाहे,बाँवरे तरानों के,बाँवरे से बोल पे,थिरकना। बाँवरा मन देखने चला एक सपना। बाँवरा सा हो अंधेरा, बाँवरी खामोशियाँ। थरथराती लौ हो मद्धम, बाँवरी मदहोशियाँ। बाँवरा एक घुंगटा चाहे,हौले-हौले बिन बत...

Continuing my journey from last blog post : I met a person named Ram at Delhi Airport. He works in Kuwait in the petroleum sector. He was an IITB alumnus- 1983 pass out. I was really pleasured to meet him. He told me that he was more interested in music than studies in his younger days. A bit off talk take place and I was informed of a most amazing fact/fiction by him; That his interview of DRDO in 1983 at IIT-B placement was taken by President Kalam who was then Director of DRDO. I was tired and slept in the Airplane. I have reached Kuwait from Delhi at 9 am (Kuwait timings). Then, we parted without saying goodbye to each other. My next flight was at 9 AM only but it became 1 hour late. Talking about Kuwait airport, I can only say an oasis made in desert from petrodollars. It's like barren and sandy for miles around but i do not visualize country as a part of Arabian Nights. Then, I met a German lady [40 years of age]. She was with me from Delhi but we never talked till Kuwait....

Nuovo cinema Paradiso (1988) There's something magical and timeless about the movies. The simple actors transform into stars in a moment.They are like fixed points in a firmament created out of the just imagination; Ageless reminders that despite the fact that our bodies deteriorate during the passage of time, in our minds we are forever young. Images projected across the distance and onto a screen like ghosts from far off memories and whole life seem to summarize and purify into some perfect, elegant essence -- We remember only the beautiful, moving and inspiring while the all other things falls away and is forgotten in the time. Giuseppe Tornatore's glorification of the movies in CINEMA PARADISO is really a celebration of life and the limitless possibilities for the individual with determination and imagination.Ennio Morricone's unparalleled soundtrack make for exquisite, once-in-a-lifetime film-making. There are really three protagonists in this film; Salvatore, the p...

In the ruins of memory the house breathes through its mouldy surface, touched by strangers’ looks … Time cracks inside the ripened walls. It tears off with fragile flakes Swollen with history the heart of hearts bestows its place on silence.