Not just another day..

World forest day, world poetry day and world water day, back to back. Coincidence?



We are here to understand the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. Many of us will hardly believe that this is magic. I don’t expect we will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…

પાણા અને પાણી

ચમકતી ધારા ની ચળકતી ધાર
ધીમે થી અંદર ઉત્રી જાય,
મારી સાથે એક બનીને
મને ઘમી જાય..

ક્યારેક શાંત સર્કી મારી બની જાય
પૂર બની ને વહી ને મારી જાય..
ક્યારેક હસ્તી નાચ્તી કૂદતી જાય
સાંપ ની જેમ ડસી જાય,
થીજી ને જામી જાય
પ્રકાશ માં ફરી જીવિત થાય..

એના અતૂટ અખૂટ ચક્ર મને કહે
મારામાં પલળી ને અસીમ વહે

ઘણાં પાણા, ઘણું પાણી
મારામાં રેહવાના, ઓગળવાના..

And below, a quick, basic and rough translation (Realized how difficult it is to translate even something that is your own work. I can imagine the effort needed, the struggle required, the depth one would have to go to to understand someone else’s work to translate, and finally the reward of having done it satisfactorily.

Title: Water and Rocks

The glistening edge of a glittering stream

slowly slides into me,

becomes one with me.

I feel good about it.

Sometimes, it slides past me silently, becoming mine,

Sometimes, it becomes a flood and kills me,

sometimes it playfully dances and jumps around,

while sometimes, serpentine, it bites me.

It freezes, and stays frozen,

In the light it becomes alive again

Its unbroken, unending cycles tell me

Come, get drenched in me and flow, flow limitless.

A lot of stones, a lot of water,

Will stay in me, and melt away.


Of Gorges and Falls

It all seems surreal, each time we meet,
fellow travelers , familiar strangers;
She , with all the miles behind her,
I , a lost soul in-search of direction.

Our paths meet often, almost fated,
just as I get anxious, afraid;
She greets me gently, with a smile,
as if she was waiting, for me to arrive.

Awe-struck at first, I follow her around,
she lets me, a little amused;
And eventually a conversation ensues,
in a wordless flow begins her story.

Born off what she breathes through now,
mountains shape her like she shapes them;
For her no beginning, nor an end,
just an ever-changing her, an eroding them .

My thoughts explore her struggle now,
ups and downs that come her way;
And almost as if reading my mind,
she laughingly , shows her way.

Neither proud nor clueless of this form,
she was at peace with her soul;
For never have I known a fall so bright,
falling not with fear , but with roar.

A roar so loud , it silences noise,
A roar so bold , it scares all fear;
A fall so free, it makes you fly,
A fall so deep, it breaks barriers.

And with this force of the fall,
I see her climb up, wiser, stronger;
Rounding off all that’s sharp,
flowing over all that’s not.

And up there , she stays a while,
A pool of emerald, and gems in light;
Giving life to all around her,
free of bondage, any kind.