Thrift, Thrift, Horatio!

I have an anonymous source of great write ups.. lovely thoughts, and wonderful poems. Cynical sometimes and sometimes scornful, yet ingenuous.

One of the recent posts caught my attention, ( have posted the same below - the original version) - The poem was disseminating, rays of lost hope and enervated instincts.
I have just attempted to revive the spirit of the thought and change the theme from negative to a little more hopeful, a bit more optimistic.
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The Original Version -
"Thrift, thrift, Horatio! The funeral baked meats Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio." - Hamlet

The future looks bleak, The present confused.
The past lacerating.
There are regrets now, risks not needed,
Life could have been lived
with a little thrift in dreams.
Days could have gone, Just as meaningless.
But no whetstone,
to break knives on.

There is man who is mad
he wants to make amends with destiny,
who he shunned
but now he fakes knowledge
of fate and and its yarns
he feigns a power he lost
over his own desires

Now he does not know
what use dreams are
except excuses to sleep longer
and wake up a little later
realize the universe is real
and he is but a slave
of someone else's dreams, of someone else's screams


the poets are all dead and now all is matter
riches are to be scavenged
friends are to be lost
none are forgiven
life is just too short

- Anonymous
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A different perspective -
The future is always bleak, the present is just happening…
The past forgotton.
Life cannot be lived, with thrift in dreams,
Only that’s affordable in profuse,
Meaningless when days would pass,
A chance more,
All would ask.

There is a man, whose faith is feeble.
He wants to repent and make amends with destiny,
Who he shunned,
But now he needs to rise, his desires and more,
And shun again,
That fake knowledge of fate and its yarns

Now he must know
Those tiny many seeds of dreams that makes destiny
Are not excuses to sleep a little more
One who pursues, is one who gets.
The universe is real, and this is its truth
That what you want, is that what you get

Now he needs to rise, his desires and more,
And shun again,
The pursuit of someone else’s dream, but chase only his own

Poetry never dies
The search is eternal,
Unending and Timeless.
The path is solitary, the path is long
And life,
Life is just too short.

- Khushboo

A candy or more?

I have seen a silence in those deep eyes,
A wound, A pain, in her golden smile.
A hidden complain, in her innocent words,
I have seen her ask, a bouquet of love.

I have seen her pray, to thank the almighty,
A word of gratitude, when I gave her a candy.
A hidden complain, in her open arms,
I have seen her seek, mother’s warmth.

I have seen, I have heard,
And then I returned.

Neither the bouquet, nor mother’s warmth, came her way
The silence prevails, the wound, the pain, would stay,
I ask myself, I ask the almighty,
Could I give her, much more than the candy?

-khushboo

( This poem is dedictated to the millions of orphans in the world. God Bless)

रूबरू

बस इतनी सी बात करनी है,
इस जग से जाने से पहले - ख़ुद से मुलाकात करनी है ।
ज़रा ख़ुद की पहचान करनी है । ।

एक बार रुबरू हो जाऊं अपनी रूह से,
बस इतनी सी फरियाद करनी है!!

My Old Sketches...

Mother's Love -

Source : Poster

Venue : Terrace, PG at Hudson Lines, Delhi

Time : 11 p.m

Company : Naincy and Priya Di.

The interesting thing I could recollect about this sketch was that it came out really quickly.. in an hour... Naincy and Priya di wanted two photocopies of this sketch.. and guess wht it nearly took me the same time getting it photocopied the next day...

The Actress Unknown-
Source : Forwarded Email
Venue : Koramangla, Bangalore
Time : 9 p.m
Company : None

I was getting too bored sitting back at home. Was new to Bangalore, and didnot know many people here. So i thought of picking the pencil, and trying one of the sketches which were forwarded to me a day back.

I tried my best. And the next test of how close it could get was.. to ask a few people to guess who she was.. Here are a few of the reactions.

- The safe players : " I dont see many hindi movies"

- The surprised flock: " Actresssss!! Actress!!.. Umm.. "

- The pretenders :" Areyyyy.... kya naam tha uska..."

Then finally, one smart female (she should be in police for identification of sketches).. claimed..

Sonali Bendere!!! ... I literally hugged her.. and hid this sketch somewhere ;)

The Sleeping Baby-

Source : Internet

Venue : Koramangla, Bangalore

Time : 9 p.m - 11 p.m . 2 sittings.

Company : None
I must share the predicament i was in when I started this sketch- a beautiful piece it was, kinda difficult for a novice like me. When I completed the outline ( I really put my heart and soul into it , to ensure that I do this one to my best), I realised that the sketch was so erroneous, that the child looked abnormal!! :( [ i havent taken any advanced training, and so it mostly is hit and trial].. I was so sad, that i nearly cried. For long at night i kept thinking, how it feels to raise a special child... and then i decided, to rectify it.. whatever it takes, and then take some lessons, so that I can get better at what i like to do. Next day, I erased the whole stuff, and re-started. I wasnot disappointed at the result. And it gave me immense satisfaction at the end of day. Ya, but the lessons part.. is yet to commence.

The Innocent Sad eyes-
Source : Internet
Venue : Koramangla, Bangalore
Time : 3 p.m.
Company : None

It was a holiday on Dr. Rajkumar's demise. And as usual, back at home, had not much to do. Bangalore was closed and there were riots. So cudnt move out. What struck me in the original piece was the mastery with which the eyes were drawn. I jus wanted to learn 1/10th of it. I will always refer to this sketch whenever I have to make eyes for kids... anywhere close to natural.

Working with colors -

Source : cant recall.

Venue : Koramangla, Bangalore

Time : 5 p.m.

Company : None

This is the only water painting that i have with me now. rest have all found place in bins, or lost. This one is incomplete to an extent. But I posted it here, as the concept is something I love. A princess like woman, who has only flowers in her path, sitting on a beautiful natural spot, enjoying the setting of the sun, and thinking - whats missing? she has it all?

Long since, I have not done any paintings/ sketches. Have scribbled a lot, cos i dont like to lose touch.. but have not completed anything, or not tried improving.... I dont say that there is not enough time.. cos there is never enough of time and money anyway...! I am hoping that in the coming few months, I will complete the incomplete ones.. and also learn something new.
I have a target in mind... and I want to pursue it to my best :)

Keep rocking! Keep expressing!

Life is beautiful! Keep Living!

Khushboo!

बसेरा

एक घरौंदा हम बनायेंगे,
एक गुड़िया होगी प्यारी सी,
उसकी मीठी मीठी बातों में,
हम अपना बचपन दोहरायेंगे,
वो घरौंदा हम सजायेंगे!

एक रिश्ता मजबूत बनायेंगे
हम साथ ही उमर बितायेंगे,

एक ऐसा आशियाना बनायेंगे,
जिसमें उसकी किलकारी होगी,
वो गुड़िया प्यारी प्यारी होगी
उसके नन्हे नन्हे हाथों से,
खुशी की नींव लगायेंगे,
रंग नए लेहरयांगे!!

हम ऐसा घर बनायेंगे
और उमर भर साथ निभाएंगे !!

खुशबू

A small promise

My sweet My charm,

Promise me small things this hour,
Day, each passing day, when sun shines bright
Before I open my eyes, and start my day
I see your face, I see you smile,
Kiss me on the cheek, take me in your arm,

My sweet My charm,

Promise me small things this hour,
I am a wandering soul, entangled in woes,
I forget, I err, I am bad at the chores,
Come a lil close, and whisper in my ears
I am with you, just keep your calm

My sweet My charm,

Promise me small things this hour,
When times tests patience, and God tests virtues,
When I am upset, and engulfed in blues
A walk by the beach, a drive on the highway,
Take my hand in yours, and coax my palm,

My sweet My charm

Live more than me, Love more than me
Day, each passing day, when sun shines bright
Before I close my eyes, and end my breath,
I see your face, I see you smile,
You bid me goodbye, say - do meet me next life.

My sweet My charm,
Promise me small things this hour.

- Khushboo

On Mother's Day...

Mother's are special. I love my mom for being the best mom in the whole universe.
She is god's gift to me.

On this occasion I would like to dedicate this poem to my mother।

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एक टूटी कुटिया के बरामंदे में,
एक पुरानी चारपाई पर..
माँ की गोदी में रख कर सर,
एक मासूम ने कभी पूछा था,
माँ , क्यूँ तारा नही दिखता?


ओ मेरे बच्चे,
थोड़ा और आस लगा, थोड़ा धैर्य बंधा.
बादल जल्दी छ्ट जाएगा, और तारा टिमटिमायेगा,

एक छोटी कश्ती के सहारे से,
एक ऐसे विशाल सागर में,
माँ के पल्लू को खींच कर,
एक मासूम ने कभी पूछा था,
माँ , क्यूँ किनारा नही दिखता?

ओ मेरे बेटे,
थोड़ा और ज़ोर लगा, उम्मीद की किरण जगा,
कश्ती पार् लग जायेगी, और किनारा भी नज़र आयेगा,

एक घने जंगल के बीच में,

घने सन्नाटे की गूँज में,
माँ के कदमो का कर के पीछा,
एक मासूम ने कभी पूछा था,
माँ , रास्ता नज़र न आता?

ओ मेरे मुन्ने,
भैय को दूर भगा, हौसला, हिम्मत थोड़ा और बढ़ा,
जो मंज़िल का पता रख पायेगा, रास्ता ख़ुद ही खुल जाएगा,

ओ माँ प्यारी माँ,
सब कुछ बचपन में सिखला दिया!
जीवन का मार्ग बता दिया
अपने चरणों में स्वर्ग दिखा दिया
और इश्वर से साक्षात्कार करवा दिया!

खुशबू

क्या कह के जायेंगे?

यह पता तो था.. पर गिला तो था,
और शिकायतो का, सिलसिला तो था..
यह कसूर नही मेरी किस्मत का,
यह कसूर नही तेरी तकदीर का,
जो मोहब्बत का नशा सा छाया,
पाया, खोया, खो कर पाया,
यूँही चाहतो का सिलसिला तो था,
क्यूँ पता भी था, और गिला भी था?

ज़ंग छिड़ी है जो हालत से,
पूछना है फिर अपने आप से,
गर पता जो था, तो शिकायतो का सिलसिला क्यूँ था?
हाँ कसूर नही किस्मत का,हाँ कसूर नही तकदीर का,
यह चाहतो का सिलसिला ही था,
सच पता तो था, अब गिला न था.

खुशबू

Deva.. Arey O Deva! Tune meri payal dekhi kya?

Devdas, the eternal love story. A tragedy of clashing egos, hasty decisions and late realisations.

An egoistic father who would not want a girl from a lower clan to be a bride for the family of high stature, causing injury to his prestige and honor. An egoistic son, who would prefer to run away from circumstances in denial, than choosing between "bend or break"/ " mend or make" options, not even for the sake of his own life, his own love. An egoistic mother, who would choose to mis-marry her daughter to prove and make true the allegations put on the clan to which she belongs, which may have been in essence, not true. An egoistic friendship and its decline, between two family makers - Deva and Paro's mother - leading to disastrous situations.

Not until till Devdas left in a scurry, breaking all knots, did he realise that his love was inseparable? Not unless did Paro marry someone else, did she realise that her love was inseparable? Not unless, Paro married and left, did Devdas realise that he should ask her to hold his hands and run away? Not unless did Paro married and left did Paro realise that she wants to live in service of her love?Not unless did Deva's father reach the death bed, he realised that he loves his son, his once prospective daughter-in-law? Not unless deva's mom slapped him that she realised that she has lost not only her husband but also her son? Not unless devdas died did Paro realise that Devdas and she are not two souls.

Devdas and Paro - indeed a tragic love story.

Donot forget to carry your umbrellas, I plan to water the plants today - God.

And when it pours...
Some thirsts to quench . A dance in rain.
Those little many drops, no moments of pain,
When God waters those plants,
I will leave beside, the umbrella on a thought,
The one i never bought,
I love the rain, no moments of pain.

- Khushboo