A Self Transliteration
of Gujarati Gazal
· · ·
Ever any force a cleaver
doesn’t use,
If righteous also, tricks he doesn’t
muse.
A tender look from far so
stark,
On a love with sun, morning-dew
doesn’t embark.
For sake of ‘Yaksha’, what
‘Kalidas’ wrote,1
Often, the same, a cloud
doesn’t quote.
Though, it thirsts life-long
in arid sand,
A drop of water, mirage
doesn’t stand.
If earth is not lavished with
rain,
By ploughing not none a
plough doesn’t pain.
By seeing, being maimed a
trunk of tree,
Natural burgeoning a bud
doesn’t spree.
By touch of ‘Damayanti’, it
becomes alive, 2
A fish in a meal, ‘Nal’ ever
doesn’t thrive.
In dual of male and female
it’s lone,
In favor of none a neutral
doesn’t tone.
It
stays along, and cuffs all in pent,
Such
a ring a chain doesn’t vent.
Dreams
unfold there’in pinkish trance,
Single
excitement here doesn’t glance.
It patrols over twin
eye-lashes’ stage,
The vision of eye, eye-salve doesn’t
cage.
Yes, it limits Thy in a book,
Autocratic dialogue a paper
doesn’t brook.
If able, at once it praises
outright,
Even single weakness it doesn’t
highlight.
If not aware it opts not to
chat,
Even in haste it doesn’t
speculate.
At every moment it’s a sailor
of self in its orbit,
At any other place for longer
than that it doesn’t cohabit.
A game in which there is no
bitter tail,
It self as well that game
doesn’t fail.
1 This is in reference with the Sanskrit poet Kalidas’s epic:
‘Meghdoot: cloud messenger’.
For detail see: http://www.nagpurcity.net/netzine/990401a.html
2 Please refer the Mahabharat story of a King ‘Nal’ and
his quest for ‘Damayanti’. Their marriage, their separation and their struggle
to get reunited