Haiku by Shiki Masaoka - transcreation

pond thaws
shrimp survives
life is re-born

hamlet dying
in winters arms
a dog howls

funnel haiku

I
autumn stays till
her raindrops permit
winter to peep in edgeways

II
warm days
cool nights
autumn contradicts

III
autumn nip
sweatless bodies
seek heat


* from dusty archives

one summer night...

10.43 pm
resisted temptation
to snatch
mocha moments
from our fate

so why did
i ensure
you didn’t
stop by

and as
you boarded
the 11.50
i saw
you gulped
by an
endless night

starless
moonless
speechless

does distance
keep you safe ?




* retrieved from dusty online archives...

old verses selection...retrieved from the archives of caferati...

haiku selection

I

sometimes the most
difficult thing in life
is to just - be


II

gracefully soaking poison
from life's sludge
blue lotus


III

'midst death, work
learning, giving, living
i still haiku

IV

Silver grey clouds
Pregnant with water droplets
give birth to rain

V

Read my Smile
let my Eyes talk
we will walk Miles



ps - # 2 has been written for a dear friend who is physically challenged and will probably never " hear" my words...

_____________________________________________________________________________________



part of an exercise which involved the use of specific words...



monday woke me, snuggled in the arms of Jupiter
smiling goofily, revelling in my Lord and Master

velevety baritone husked nonsensical nothings,
woozy watchmacallits, outrageous somethings

settling over me, like a rainbow quilt
tinkling gold coins woven in to her fibre-fill

post the customary fifty one passionate kisses
(not including the near misses)

extricated himself from my entwined body,
the way Casanova would leave his lady

deftly stepping around scattered pet orchids
lying in colourful abandon that forbids

yet a feeling of fullness I had caught
i might have just achieved Eternity, I thought

_____________________________________________________________________________________


Its been raining here and these lines flowed in the midst of assignments and cost functions and production functions……


Raindrops that surprise
Thunder, lightning that jolt
me out of complacency
and assumption that
the weather will get
Colder and drier
I forgot but
every single time
every single year
an unexpected shower or two
blesses me
before summer whispers
“ au revoir”
and winter nudges her way in
gently through a chink
in my doorway……

_____________________________________________________________________________________



such a market exists..close to the qutub minar in delhi, off the mehrauli gurgaon highway....


wholesale flower market

a lane at a crazy tangent
to a smoky, dusty highway
whizzing past a coloured blur
i stopped. peered.
down the length
of a muddy, slushy lane…
stones peeped out
to trip my high heeled vanity….
little tarpaulin covered shops
with blue plastic sheets
overflowed with flowers
flowers and more flowers….
little miniature rainbows
lay scattered around my feet
in fluorescent plastic tubs
begging to be lifted up…
velvety soft petals seeking
the caress of my fingertips and cheeks….
twinkling crystal dew droplets
tilting insanely over
their sheer drop to the ground …
or yearning to fall
onto my bare skin…
perfumes that jostled madly
for my nasal approval…
only to be swept away
by greedy, moneyed hands
for picture perfect synthesis
in lavish, empty homes…
by menials of the
hoity toity flower retailer
in an overpriced shopping conclave….
dumped carelessly
on a black bicycle backseat
tied down with black rubber tube….
melting in to the muck of the highway….
as the lane stripped
of its colour and perfume
grew desolate and empty
in its barren bareness…..


_____________________________________________________________________________________


all of this is old stuff from my early writing attempts...and it shows i guess !!

verse exchange on sms

he

pale autumn morning
our connection falters
and gathers strength
for the distant morning tryst


me

snatches of officialese
job lists and
house cleaning prospects
painful client meetings
money matters threaten
our rendezvous beckons


he

an official kibbitzer
i follow the train card game
the private lingo
snatches of drums outside
hints of a tryst
how life finds riches
on a suburban train morning

your silence speaks...

silence

your silence speaks volumes to me
of steely indifference that’s hard to bear
deafeningly quiet in its crystal clarity

it suits you now to break free
surrounded by crowds that adulate
your silence speaks volumes to me

pin-drop silence rules what cannot be
between us yawns an eternal void
deafeningly quiet in its crystal clarity

controlled by minions and brokers i see
all hungering to possess an atom of your mind
your silence speaks volumes to me

maybe you have evolved beyond love’s felicity
may be it was simply a trade-off for you
your silence speaks volumes to me

so this is how it is meant to be
no longer do you need the food of my soul
your silence speaks volumes to me
deafeningly quiet in its crystal clarity



picked out from a dusty caferati shelf - this is a villanelle by yours truly...

an old forgotten piece....

your offliners
sound like
scrawls on
fluorescent
post-its
tacked on a
refrigerator
between comings
and goings
and the angst of
knowing
that we are
searching for
magic

trying ....

Trying to telepathically connect with you
Now halfway across the world
Trying to find you in bits of technology
And Call Received notifications
Silly Text messages that giggle
Trying to find memories of a two minute
Half asleep phone talk before boarding

Trying to be without you.....

Varanasi’s Variety

Varanasi is curious mixture of the old and new, the sacred and profane…the trappings of today exist cheek by jowl with the remains of an ancient civilisation…

Where else can you find death and closure existing smack in the middle of everyday hurly burly, urchins playing, washing drying on the banks of the river, worship, rituals and tourist-hungry touts all together in a state of chaotic co-existence ?
Not to forget the all pervasive filth, stink, flies, pot-holed roads, and the dirty, dirty polluted river which makes one want to cry…



The Assi ghaat, where I stayed, is the first ghaat right at the southern most tip of the river as it enters Varanasi..this is one of the three ghaat’s where Ganga –ji is worshipped every evening with a ritualistic “aarti”…The river here flows North and thus the city acquires special significance because of this…



It is home to a lot of Western backpackers…who have found themselves shelter in the numerous guest-houses..in the houses by the riverside, for weeks on end to soak in and learn about Indian culture be it music, yoga, spiritualism or just to unwind in this quaintly exotic land of ours…
Needless to say, a river view is much sought after and commands a premium and if there is an AC thrown in so much the better…so one can see the holy river from the confines of cool comfort…


The food in Varanasi is all about the famous “tamaatar ki chaat” and assorted forms of street food.…but my culinary experiences were some what of a different sort…

My first meal in Varanasi was breakfast at the “Shiva Cafe - German Bakery" - which turned out to be at quite a distance - at Narad Ghat right next to Dashashwamedh.
When one finally reached the restaurant, winding through the bylanes of Narad
Ghat, it turned out to be choked with “gorAs.”


Me and my friend shared a table under a fan which didn’t work, with a short-cropped blonde German woman. It turned out that she was on a six month vacation from a hospital in Luebeck - with her husband - and they had been to Bombay, Goa, Pushkar, Diu, etc, and were in Varanasi for six weeks. She described Varanasi as “magical”

The menu was customised to Western tastes with different types of breakfasts – Continental, Israeli et.al. I chose the Cheese breakfast. Food was slow in coming but since it was cooked fresh – there was not much to complain about and any way the cheese toast was good…

The beauty of all the food that I ate in Varanasi was that it was always but always freshly cooked post our order. It was worth waiting for the extra time and I never fell sick.

I struck up a conversation with a young boy with light blue eyes and an earring who appeared to be the owner. Turned out he is. And he has learnt cuisines and the tricks of the trade from the Germans who came visiting…he started his career as a dish washer and now he has this place of his own…he has a multitude of cakes for sale but we pass.. he must obviously be doing something right – he comes highly recommended in “Lonely Planet"

Being in the vicinity of Westerners, it was obvious that food was mostly going to be as per their tastes… A few places which grace the pages of “Lonely Planet”… “Haifa”, for instance which claims to be Mediterranean but lacks character in terms of appearance and atmosphere…with its sunmica topped tables and Panchkuian road showroom type dining chairs…

The surprise was “Hayat” which was recommended by Rakesh ..the affable owner of the Harmony Bookstore close to Assi ghaat. A brief walk away from the river and set in a quiet locality ..”Hayat” which I think means “beautiful life ” in Arabic is owned by an affable and extremely friendly pair of brothers from Jordan …Tehsin and Mohammed Ainbosi, who have relocated and settled in India and one has even married an Indian girl…
Me and my companion were greeted with a smiling “namaskaar” from them as we walked in to the mud plastered courtyard dotted with cane chairs and tables…but what we made a beeline for was the section at the far end with whirring fans and low lying bed style seating complete with bolsters …once settled in with feet up, a glance at the menu promised Mediterranean as well as Western and Indian delights.

A serving boy hurrying past with two tall, frosted, lemon slice garnished glasses filled with an exotic, vivid green liquid caught my eye and I pounced …and demanded of him…get me what ever that is !!

A tentative sip – and I was transported.
A delightful tingle of mint, merged smoothly with the edge of lemon, in a setting that was cold yet sweet - without being cloyingly so.


I had just made the discovery of my trip…the nAnA.. is a ubiquitous essential on all the menus of the restaurants here. I guzzled a minimum of four ..yes four glasses per meal. And not once did I feel bloated or full…

Apart from nAnA’s at Hayat, we also had it at Phoolwari at Chowk..which is a restaurant set in the courtyard of a Kali temple with an entrance that opens out on the madness which is Chowk or the main market district of Varanasi…crowded with humanity and rickshaws… and sundry commercial dreams.

The name comes from the fact that mint in Arabic is called nAnA.

The recipe is so simple that I am surprised that no one ever thought of it before !!!
Of course individual ingredients can be customised to taste depending upon one ‘s taste which I am sure you will find out by trial and error !! A high-speed blender is necessary to put together this glassful of divinity but…

“nAnA” a la Varanasi

Ingredients ( makes one single glass) :
Half a handful of mint leaves – washed
Juice of half a lemon – can add less or more depending upon taste
Sugar – 1 ½ tablespoons
Ice cubes
Water or soda to top up

Method :
Whip the ingredients together in the blender for a few minutes till frothy.
Strain if you wish and transfer in to a tall glass. Garnish with a slice of lime and mint sprigs. Enjoy !!
We had both the strained and unstrained versions of the nAnA and found them both to be equally refreshing and enjoyable.



Each of the restaurant owners claimed to have invented and propagated the nAnA…
For an extra bite, add half a green chilli minus the seeds when you blend the drink. Or you can rim your glass with lime juice and dip it in rock salt for a nice twist !!


The food we ate for the rest of the trip was mostly Mediterranean – the platter at Hayat had a selection of pita bread with dips – tahini, hummus, baba ghanoush and labana served with salad, falafel and fries ( don’t know what they called that last thing in their lingo !! ) , the salad was a mix of cucumber, tomato, spring onions , feta cheese and black olives tossed in a lemony dressing that was yummy, light and filling without going too heavy on the tummy…


And of course not to forget the famous laddoos which were picked up as Prasad at the Sankat Mochan temple dedicated to Lord Hanuman made lately famous by the Big B and family…made of gur and ghee they are reputed to stay fresh for months on end .

And the “matthaa” which was being dished out at a subsidised cost of one rupee a glass outside a well known departmental store called “Jalan’s” – essentially whey water with rock salt stirred in – supposed to keep you cool in summer. Despite my hesitation I shared a good part of the five glasses we polished off together.

And then lived to tell this tale….

spring rain haiku....

triggered off by a sudden spring shower last night...


I

spring rain washes
winter's angst
life's kiss

II

rain laden leaves
windy gust
love's shower

III

glistening pearly leaves
sodium vapour neons
life's a party

my own little show..partly at least !!!

log on to the freakiest, snappiest, wittiest TV channel right here on the world wide web...

www.nautanki.tv

stay here for a sneak peak...




stay tunned......!!!

global warming haiku

global warming ? or
spring flirts with
both winter and summer

haiku jan 28th 2007

abstinence
sharpening
temptation's edge

in the footsteps of akira yamashita - a writing exercise

akira yamashita lives in the imagination of many.
this venerable japanese gentleman is part of a community of writers who congregate here

no one has actually met with or spoken with him. but he is a significant presence. with his delicately exquisite yet tautly minimalistic writing style.
he however reverts to a broken-english- incorrect-grammar style of writing in the course of other online interactions.

i chose the latter style to write in as part of a writing exercise and created a part fact part fiction travelogue and threw in some pictures for good measure.



Juno-san on the Mission Akira in the Tokyo

Now I am writing about the fine lady from Delhi who went to the Nippon.

The Juno-san works for a half Japanese half Indian office. But I am wondering how is it the cut in to the half and half ?
Juno- san is trying to explain to poor old Japanese man who knows only how to play sitar and is still trying to make the perfect sambhar and waiting patiently to find the Indian wife. I have the heard that Indian woman is best in the whole world. It is the possible that my old friend Professor Murthy-san may have said to me when I am first coming to the beautiful and colourful India. But now I do not the remember. May be I am getting the too old. May be I should be the brave and call the Professor-san and ask him about the Indian lady.

But, before that I tell you. The Juno-san sent me a message on the fine Ryze network and informed me that she was going to the Nippon, my father-land.
When she told me, I suddenly remembered my little baby and my beautiful Kimiko. And I was the thinking that I can ask the fine lady to go to meet Kimiko and tell her from me that it is all the over between us. Kimiko must not feel sadness for poor unworthy Akira and look for her new life in the other place. And with the other man.

Then I am helping with the problem. Juno-san is vegetarian lady.
She will not eat even the sushi.
She is the non-drink. She not drink the sake.
So, I asked her to eat dashi with wasabi. It is the seaweed soup in the Nippon. It is secret of my trim figure which Juno-san said she is wanting to the find.

The Juno-san had very long air flying to Singapore and then to the Tokyo.
My beloved JAL is not want to take her to fatherland, so no flight on day Juno-san was leaving. So the Singapore girl in sarong-kebaya is the taking her away .

When Juno-san is landed at the Narita, it was the dark and the cold. A sharp wind is blowing from across the Pacific Ocean. Juno-san carried the warm kimono and was happy in airport limousine bus for 70 km drive to Shinagawa in the downtown Tokyo.

Drive from the Narita to the Tokyo is the very different. There is no the empty land. Only the hotel, the factory, the buildings, the houses. Lots and lots of all.

The bright lights are so the many that poor Juno-san was dazzled since she comes from dark country.

Even the road is not the very large, she said , as it is in the fine city of the Delhi. But no so many cars. We are rich country, but not the many cars. Juno-san’s India not so rich but so many cars Juno-san is the telling. It is the very strange.

Juno-san reached hotel and gave phone call to my Kimiko. Juno-san was the given news that Kimiko is the working in the Roppongi in the bar.



I had asked the Juno-san not to go to Kimiko but she is the kind lady so she still is going to the Roppongi with all the bars and clubs. Brave lady I am the saying.

In bar in Roppongi, Juno-san asked for the Japanese dinner. And Noveau Boujeaulais wine. All for the my wishes. I am the honoured.

Kimiko was serving other table and Juno-san after doing the eating, got up and went to meet her.

My Kimiko is very sad when Juno-san is telling her about the lost and unfaithful Akira husband. Juno-san is the telling that she started crying, left her tray and is the running out of the restaurant.
Juno-san is the following, but in the Roppongi it is not being the easy. Many, many people from many world coming there for the fun. And the big black man blocking her way think she doing the bad thing.

Juno-san is the looking for her everywhere.

In the Roppongi Heights. Near Roppongi Tower. On the avenue of Keyakizaka which is lighting for Christmas and looking like fairy-world.

Juno-san is seeing Kimiko running in to Tsutaya book shop. She is going to find her but Kimiko is the vanished.

Juno-san is not the finding. She is having the jet-lag. Tired so she is having coffee at the Starbucks.
She is the going back to hotel in Tamachi and her single room.

Juno-san is the finding and wearing blue-striped Nippon nightshirt. I am wishing I could see the Juno-san looking so fine. She is being the so kind to an old Japanese man.
May be I will ask the Juno-san what she is the thinking of me? After all she is fine Indian lady. And I am the Japanese.
Juno-san is saying she is the half and half. Half Indian and the half Japanese. It is mystery.

Juno-san is having difficult night in strange bed in the Tokyo. It is the hot inside. Juno-san is not having water so she is going to vending machine to buy water bottle for 120 yen.

She is telling how she is getting awake at 5 am. She is the looking very careful at the Japanese style wash-closet. Juno-san is not the understanding the controls and the warm water flow. She is looking at instructions and is the happy.

Juno-san is going to take shinkansen train to Mishima to my and Kimiko’s old home.
It is the very cold but Juno-san is kindly doing all this for poor, miserable Akira.

It is the cold and dark morning at Shinagawa station. The platform is the deserted.

Juno-san is the afraid but in the land of the Nippon, it is the all right and correct.
Bullet train is the arriving with people coming to Tokyo for the work.

Shinkansen train is taking the Juno-san to Mishima. Juno-san is the told me that shinkansen is the so different from Indian train. I am happy that Juno-san is enjoying high-speed train. But Juno-san is seeing Mishima and is the getting off. Kind policeman is showing the great Fuji-san to Juno.
She is folding her hands and bowing to Fuji-san. I am happy that Juno-san is the doing Japanese way for Akira.

But the Juno-san is the honest lady. She is the looking for our old home to find clueing to the Kimiko disappear. Looking and looking. The people in the house are no helping. She is taking lots of the pictures to showing me when she comes back for proving she went there.

Then in the city, next she is going to the office where Kimiko would do the work. Yuriko-san who was the Kimiko’s boss is most kind. Yuriko-san is giving the help to her and telling her about Kimiko. Yuriko-san is calling the conference to discuss the way for finding Kimiko again.
The all kind people give Juno-san list of places to look for Kimiko.
Juno-san is weary now after long day and is the going to eat with kind people at Kimiko’s old office. But Juno-san is telling that it is the very strange – they are doing happy cheering with the Suntory Beer. Juno-san is having only the orange juice the good lady.

Next day Juno-san is telling how she is going all over Tokyo city to find and talk to my Kimiko.

Every place in the list given to her by the kind people at the office is the visited by Juno-san.
Asa-kusa is great Sensoji Buddhist Temple where Juno-san is the going to pray for peace and happiness of poor Kimiko and miserable Akira.

Juno-san is offering humble prayer and the temple priest is the calling her inside to ask her to sit there and offer the prayer. It is the good thing for us all. Juno-san is then buying lucky charm from temple for us all.


Then she is wandering the Nakamise street looking for a glimpse of Kimiko who is loving to come and shop there.

Juno-san is the looks and looks and then in the corner is seeing a flash of Kimiko’s red jacket. She is the rushing to follow Kimiko who is running to subway line. Juno is following Kimiko in to metro train and is the seeing here there. It is strange that metro which was first in Asia in 1927, and is older than me is still looking so fresh and I am the so old.
Kimiko is found at last by Juno-san.

They are sitting together and talking about my happiness.

The women are so the wonderful, they are giving so much to the poor old Akira. Juno-san is the explaining to Kimiko about how happy Akira is in India.
Kimiko must find new life very soon. Juno-san and Kimiko hold the hands and people in metro look very strange at them.
At Otemachi station, Juno-san and Kimiko are going to Imperial Palace Gardens.

They go around the Ni-no-ma-ru castle and grove. Juno-san is having such big beautiful eyes says Kimiko. Juno-san is telling Kimiko that she is only humble friend of Akira and she only wishes everyone to be happy wherever they are.
After long talk, Kimiko is the understanding. And Kimiko and Juno-san are the good friends.
Kimiko is taking Juno-san for the Japanese shopping at Ginza and Tokyu Hands Store in Shibuya. Juno-san is the loving the shops. She is doing the shopping for Japanese presents. Juno-san very kind lady.



Kimiko is offering Juno-san to go to Tokyo Tower and see city lights.

Both Juno-san and Kimiko are seeing from high spot Tokyo lights. Then they are having the coffee and listening to Japanese singer in restaurant in Tower.

Now Juno-san’s work is the over. She takes the leave of Kimiko and both are tear-eyes. She is sending me my favourite candy and lots of affection.

But I am wondering how is Juno-san going to give me the all that ? After all, that Kimiko is sending but Juno-san is only my good friend.

But I will ask Juno-san and then let all kind members at Shakspear board know it all.

It will be the good thing. I am the sure. I am finding the peace.



Akira Yamashita

mountain bird haiku

mountain bird-song
city winter mist
life is an illusion

Friday, January 19, 2007

variation - strawberry smoothie haiku

strawberry-smooth winter
lips a-cream
kisses don't matter

strawberry smoothie haiku

pink winter
strawberry smooth
lips creamed

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