Tagore, Gitanjali and the Nobel

It is perhaps redundant today to analyse the remark quoted above from the Introduction of Rabindranath Tagore's Gitanjali or Song Offerings by the renowned Irish poet William Butler Yeats. But many admirers of Tagore have commented over the years tha...

Mother

None can fathom her beauty in younger days if they hadn't seen her wrapped tight in her teens in jaba-printed salwar kameez. There goes Her Majesty, passersby would purr, eyeing her honed features – the moon face, the button nose – as she sa...

O Herald of the New (Hey nutan)

O herald of the new, Let the auspicious hour of birth come around once again. Reveal yourself from the midst of a mist-filled sky Like the sun. Burst through the heart of the void and unveil yourself. Let life be revealed as triumphant Let the i...

The Twenty-Fifth of Baisakh

The twenty-fifth of the month of Baisakh flows on— Another birthday coursing Towards the day of death. Seated on his movable stand At the border of minuscule births and deaths Who is the artist weaving A garland out of innumerable Rabindranaths...

Ghalib Ki Dilli (Part II)

Some years back, I had read of the restoration of the Ghalib haveli. The premises in 1995 had served as a heater workshop. It opened to the public in 2011 and has remained on my bucket list of literary heritage destinations. Zig-zagging through honey...

Dressed Like a Daydream

The pool was midnight blue, adorned by the reflection of thousands of stars. It blended perfectly well with my deepest, nearly-pitch-black blue robe – unabashedly studded with thousands and thousands of crystals – in perfect synchronisation with the...