The moon came out again
But you did not
My heart was aflame with longing
But without you
It is cold and dark as the sky
------------------------
Lata, S. D. Burman, Nutan, Paying Guest
translation:
The moon appears again but you have not come yet.
My heart burns and aches.
What should I do now?
This night says those days are gone.
My heart knows that you are not mine.
Yet I am standing looking for you anxiously.
What should I do now?
The smoke rises from my burning heart.
Do come back please, for I find it difficult to even breathe.
------------
Update:
Subhasish Bose wrote:
Khudar raajje prithibi gadya maya, purnimar chand jaano jhalsano roti. (In the kingdom of hunger / The full moon looks like a burnt roti.)
-- KABI SUKANTA BHATTACHARYA,uncle of Bhuddhadeb Bhattacharya,ex cm West Bengal
My reply:
I honour a great poet, and a great simile that he versified. As a statement, it is indeed a very powerful image; but as much as I tried to recall any hungry, poor, deprived man or woman or child, or even myself when I was indigent, to even have thought of the moon, as an edible object, let alone a burnt one, I could not. Truly, among all thoughts that pass their minds, the moon, stars, clouds are excluded. This is not to deny Sukantobabu his greatness, or poetic licence.
From time immemorial, especially in infancy, people have longed to be invisible, roaming among the unsuspecting populace, living out their fantasies of power and freedom. One difficulty in living it, living a life invisibly, was relating to the rest of the world. H. G. Wells found a solution, which was to dress the supposed invisible form in bandages, clothing, or some material, which would enable him to interact in society when required. In 1897 H.G. Wells published his novel, The Invisible Man, in which he finally crystallized this fantasy, conjured it into words, gave it form, and immortalized it. To this day it remains a classic.
For me, Ralph Ellison's "The Invisible Man" 1957 is the definitive
work on this topic. My reply:
I respect your feelings about Ellison's The Invisible Man, and the esteem and complexity of feelings it must have left on your psyche. My Invisible Man, with allusion to H. G. Wells' pioneering scientific speculations, curiosities and tales, is entirely a different matter. Also, most importantly in the context of my picture posting, the allusion can by no stretch of the imagination be anything but to Wells' solving the problem of a human child's psychological, fascination and curiosity about the implications of becoming invisible, and then leading on to acquiring physical presence by bandage or equivalent clothing material. That was most paramount. Please allow me to insist that, to the extent and in the direction I was headed, the first known work, to me, and therefore the establishing, authentic writing was H.G. Wells' Invisible Man. Ralph Ellison took the name inspirationally from the original, and altered the context. The question here is not the better or the best, or the most informed and influential work, but the one which speculated and roused curiosity in me for the first time by written language. That was Wells. I hope you will accept my humble offering.
To all my well-wishers, my gratitude for putting up with me year after year, and once again on the one which has begun staggeringly, uncertainly: life is moments of disarray living it at best is capricious one, alone in the city, earth all the time - day, night seeks meaning of life, truth -- these paths which are longer than any lifetime have never been seen any destination to reach darker than moonless night the well of life draws smoke instead of tears from his unsheltered eyes one, alone has lived many lifetimes and ONE MORE YEAR let slip through his fingers timeless sands of meaningless, lies now without reason to live and inability to die counts every passing moment as a year backward and instead of the truth yearns only just to know how long onealone ------------------------------------------------ Humbly, and full of gratitude, thanks to Reena Patel Urmi Gandhi Kirit Sanghvi Pradeep J Soni Rita Lal Pratima Gandhi Shakuntala HV Arijit Chaudhury Kiran Bhatt Subhasish Bose Sonal Ganatra Shyla Shanker Hemantha Kumar Pamarthy Pravin Gandhi Meher Kushnawaz Ahmed Dar Mamta Bhatt Mukesh Soni Aashutosh Namdeo Jyoti Gandhi DrTaralika Trivedi SN Bhatt Kashmira Soni Devyani Gandhi Dhananjay S Bhatt Pathma Raj Pixy Mukherjee Kirtida Gandhi Utkarsh Majmudar Minu Sanghavi Purvi Goradia Sanjay Gandhi Mahendra Dadha Dipti Ranpura Ramanidharan Ramaswamy Shiva Kumar Vivekanandan Vivi Janak Mehta Kanan Mehta Hemant Manek Dr. Ranjan Mistry Pratap Moyna Manku Vivek Syal Fathima Sharafath Ranjit Menon Deepak Nair Ness and Perin Pesikaka Seeking forgiveness, for omissions above, and altogether generally.
I saw the post 29 minutes after you put it and reeled
at the dazzling hues and their arrangement.
It is like a musical arrangement almost, with the tones
(notes) placed for optimum effect.
The texture mesmerises with its seductive softness.
And then there is the text, the vastness of the unknown
juxtaposed against the insignificant scientific knowledge (mass matter gravity
et al.) that ignorant humans wear like halos around their inflated heads as they
dance merrily en route to perdition.
Please watch the entire video series. It is brief, and will not consume your lifetime, but will enlighten your understanding of how life originated, and how We, Humans, are the only ones who are bent upon, and now choiceless, to destroy it.