अपुरी (Incomplete)


कविता लिहिली,अर्धवटच..
वाटले की तू येशील, पूर्ण करशील.
तुला सांगितले पण बघ.
शब्द कळले नसावे, म्हणून भाषांतर केले..
कविता ऐकवली, अर्धवटच..

अपेक्षेने थांबलो होतो, चातकासारखा..
की तू येशील,
आणि त्या कागदावर,
शब्दांचा अमृत वर्षाव करशील.

मी दुष्काळातच रमतो आहे, अजुनही.
शब्द साठले बघ, आटले बघ.
कागदावर शाई अजुनही ओलीच आहे.
ते शब्दही व्याकुळ असतील.
की केव्हा त्यांचा अर्थ पूर्ण होईल.
की ते ही माझ्या आयुष्यासारखेच राहतील,

– शंतनु


Wrote a poem, incomplete..
Wished you would come, complete it.
I told you about it,
Translated the words,
Hoping you would understand.
Narrated the poem, incomplete..

Waited for you,
Hoped you would come,
And pour your magical words,
On that paper.

I am entangled in a drought, still.
See, even the words have dried up.
The ink on that paper is still wet.
Even those words must be eager,
Wondering when would they give meaning to the poem.
Or would they, like my life, be rendered,

– Shantanu





The Connoisseur

In a world defined by conventions,

we are anomalies.

You and I, it’s an anomaly.

Hope you find your voice,

to defy this order.

Hope you find your poetry,

to protest, to say the words unsaid.

And about me,,

I wish I’ll be the connoisseur.



D. Scott Evans – The Connoisseur




I am trying,
Trying to write a poem.
Hoping it’ll convey,
Some words unsaid.

In the long walks,
On those cold nights.
Treading on carpet, marble and grass.
Finding our way,
Contemplating life, people, and friendships.
Talking, drunk and high,
Sharing nightmares,
On those sleepless nights.
Barging into rooms,
Sharing chocolates, chips, and love.
Laying on one bed, lazily,
Or watching movies,
Amidst some adventures,
And misadventures.

Eternal return is a delusion.
Moment’s gone.
Life will not come back.
But memories will.
And hope you remember me,
And hope you miss me.
‘Cause I miss you.
‘Cause I love you.

– Shantanu