SHARMA, Seshendra

9 condolences on “Seshendra Sharma”

1. 

   aqua May 2, 2022, 9:11 pm

   I lοve what you gᥙys tend to be up too. Such clever work and coverage!
   Keep up the awesome works guys I’ve you guʏs to my own blogroll.

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2. 

   Saatyaki S/o Seshendra Sharma May 12, 2021, 4:14 pm

   Rain

   Rain is knocking at my door

   With a thousand hands,

   In the hands of the rowdy winds

   Braches are wriggling in the streets-

   From what distance the rain has come

   Carrying what messages for me;

   I cannot hear across the tumult of

   Wars of armies of frogs in the mud-

   The rain left

   On the chariots of clouds

   With a plough on the shoulders

   Sun is ascending to the peaks of hills

   To the clouds that distributed gifts of water

   The whole world of created things

   Is paying homage-

   The little seed in the earth

   Projected her neck and

   With the first two shoots of green leaves

   Folded like hands

   expressed gratefulness –
   Seshendra Sharma
   http://seshendrasharma.weebly.com

   

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3. 

   Saatyaki S/o Seshendra Sharma May 12, 2021, 4:13 pm

   Flowers and Silences

   The dim darkness-the diffused light-dimness of one merging into the other-imparting more length to the long trees that are standing like stretched out shadows wearing stars in their hair-

   silence is imparting more depth to the darkness

   in this advaita where darkness is merged into silence, my mind wakes up, now not only sound but even a ray of light is a violent disturbance to the profoundness of peace-

   in such moments deep truths unveil themselves-now I realize it is not sound but in silence melody lives-

   I am born out of flowers and silences- while passing my hand brushed against a flower,

   I asked ‘are you bruised? ‘‘Me or you’ smiling, the flower questioned back-

   the heart of my pen broke and split blood; – I do not know which paper can bear this pen-

   In the gigantic silences of forests, which touch the blue skies, the carpenter bird pecks at the trunks of great trees which echo, far reaching sounds-what can he do among the tiny crotons?

   I ate days like fruits-now I eat drops of tears like grapes-

   frightened by the sun took refuge under shades-

   sitting on the pavement eating dreams from eyes like ice cream with spoons-

   measuring my life with dark evenings- I distributed my wealth once with meters,

   now I scatter with handfuls my future letting it fly in all directions-

   I washed my heart in tears and dried it over poetry-

   walked past wearing people on my body like shawls-

   in the assemblies of flames; in countries abroad I raised my gypsy voice and sang mixing earth and sky-

   this country is the graveyard of my genius-

   however fast I walk the distance remains the same.

   This land is thirsty for my blood,

   it is snoring in the little shades of pigmy trees-

   I picked my pen and dipped it in the sun to write a summer song for my nation-

   – Seshendra Sharma
   http://seshendrasharma.weebly.com
   Note :
   Seshendra with Mrs Janaki , wife and Children : 1962

   

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4. 

   Saatyaki S/o Seshendra Sharma April 27, 2021, 4:07 pm

   SPINE OF MY COUNTRY
   Dreams are travelling
   In paper boats,
   Passing ports of time
   Towards the horizons
   Of dawn
   Pregnant with sun ,
   Waving flags
   On the highways of oceans ;
   Singing epics
   Of human power
   Which turns the silly earth
   Into grain and fruit;
   Spins civilizations
   Out of mere smoke
   They drive into mines
   To return ,
   As brigades of iron
   Rush into woods
   To emerge as rising axes ,
   Set aside mountains
   To make their way
   It is not blood
   That flows in their veins ;
   It is the life breath
   Of those
   Who gave up themselves
   For the children of tomorrow –
   Masses of them are moving
   To join the great festival
   Of building sky – high – column – of – spine
   For the drooping country
   They are marching to stand as muscles
   And to become the swarthy hands
   Of the nation;
   As the children in the cradles
   Whose hearts they rocked
   On their pathetic graves to drop
   As flowers of homage
   They are journeying with the wing
   Dreams are travelling in paper boats –

   

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5. 

   Saatyaki S/o Seshendra Sharma April 27, 2021, 4:07 pm

   THE BURNING SUN
   I am the drop of sweat, I am the sun
   Rising from the hills of human sinews,
   Hearts are my friends
   I live in the city of sufferings
   Although in my fist, I hold an ocean of history
   I sculptured man silently –
   Wings that carried birds
   Did not bring them back;
   I am drinking thick darkness
   In the haunts of those forests
   Which cry out in agony for the birds
   That did not return;
   Clutching at the garment woven of memories
   I twine myself to the feet of my country.
   Heads that were hanging to the trees
   Smile as flowers today in the branches
   Hearts that received the bullets
   Ring in temples of our land like bells;
   Blood of theirs nights squeezed and offered
   By how many to bring forth this day;
   They are hanging like icicles
   On the ridges of our roofs;
   Look, it is an iron fist I have;
   I shall excavate the flame of light
   From the rocks of time –
   I will set fire to the sleep of resisting centuries –
   To the rivers that run in passion after the sea
   I cry halt, command them
   To paint the colourless arid lands in green,
   Invite back the smile which fled away
   In terror from this land,
   To the butterfly trudging hungrily for a flower
   I shall give a garden –
   Come children, eat
   Bits of nights dipping them in moonlight,
   I shall not allow the sun to cheat this sacred day;
   If he wakes not on the horizon of this land
   I shall tear my burning heart
   And put it in its place
   With the scarlet of my living flesh
   Illuminate the earth
   I am the drop of sweat, I am the sun
   Rising from the hills of human sinews –
   – Seshendra Sharma http://seshendrasharma.weebly.com
   https://www.facebook.com/GunturuSeshendraSharma/
   -This is the 1st poem in Seshendra Sharma’s second anthology of prose poems titled “The Burning Sun “
   – In his intro to The Burning Sun Seshendra says there has been an uninterrupted undercurrent in his life as a poet , that is his life nerve and that has assumed total expression in this poem

   

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6. 

   Saatyaki S/o seshendra Sharma April 1, 2021, 4:11 pm

   Flowers and Silences
   The dim darkness-the diffused light-dimness of one merging into the other-imparting more length to the long trees that are standing like stretched out shadows wearing stars in their hair- silence is imparting more depth to the darkness
   In this advaita where darkness is merged into silence, my mind wakes up, Now not only sound but even a ray of light is a violent disturbance to the profoundness of peace- in such moments deep truths unveil themselves-now I realize it is not sound but in silence melody lives-
   I am born out of flowers and silences- while passing my hand brushed against a flower, I asked ‘are you bruised? ‘‘Me or you’ smiling, the flower questioned back- the heart of my pen broke and split blood; – I do not know which paper can bear this pen-
   In the gigantic silences of forests, which touch the blue skies, the carpenter bird pecks at the trunks of great trees which echo, far reaching sounds-what can he do among the tiny crotons? I ate days like fruits-now I eat drops of tears like grapes-frightened by the sun took refuge under shades-sitting on the pavement eating dreams from eyes like ice cream with spoons- measuring my life with dark evenings-
   I distributed my wealth once with meters, now I scatter with handfuls my future letting it fly in all directions-I washed my heart in tears and dried it over poetry- walked past wearing people on my body like shawls-in the assemblies of flames; in countries abroad I raised my gypsy voice and sang mixing earth and sky-this country is the graveyard of my genius- however fast I walk the distance remains the same. This land is thirsty for my blood, it is snoring in the little shades of pigmy trees-I picked my pen and dipped it in the sun to write a summer song for my nation-
   – Seshendra Sharma
   October 20th, 1927 – May 30th, 2007

   http://seshendrasharma.weebly.com/

   

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7. 

   Saatyaki S/o seshendra Sharma April 1, 2021, 4:10 pm

   Flowers and Silences
   The dim darkness-the diffused light-dimness of one merging into the other-imparting more length to the long trees that are standing like stretched out shadows wearing stars in their hair- silence is imparting more depth to the darkness
   In this advaita where darkness is merged into silence, my mind wakes up, Now not only sound but even a ray of light is a violent disturbance to the profoundness of peace- in such moments deep truths unveil themselves-now I realize it is not sound but in silence melody lives-
   I am born out of flowers and silences- while passing my hand brushed against a flower, I asked ‘are you bruised? ‘‘Me or you’ smiling, the flower questioned back- the heart of my pen broke and split blood; – I do not know which paper can bear this pen-
   In the gigantic silences of forests, which touch the blue skies, the carpenter bird pecks at the trunks of great trees which echo, far reaching sounds-what can he do among the tiny crotons? I ate days like fruits-now I eat drops of tears like grapes-frightened by the sun took refuge under shades-sitting on the pavement eating dreams from eyes like ice cream with spoons- measuring my life with dark evenings-
   I distributed my wealth once with meters, now I scatter with handfuls my future letting it fly in all directions-I washed my heart in tears and dried it over poetry- walked past wearing people on my body like shawls-in the assemblies of flames; in countries abroad I raised my gypsy voice and sang mixing earth and sky-this country is the graveyard of my genius- however fast I walk the distance remains the same. This land is thirsty for my blood, it is snoring in the little shades of pigmy trees-I picked my pen and dipped it in the sun to write a summer song for my nation-
   – Seshendra Sharma
   October 20th, 1927 – May 30th, 2007

   http://seshendrasharma.weebly.com/

   Seshendra Sharma – Memorial & Tribute

   
   https://seshen.tributes.in/

   https://www.facebook.com/GunturuSeshendraSharma/
   :http://kinige.com/author/Gunturu+Seshendra+Sharma

   

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8. 

   Saatyaki S/o seshendra Sharma February 11, 2021, 4:55 pm

   Gorilla -4
   (journey Of The Conscience)
   The vicissitudes of conscience’s journey on this planet-earth is the only true history of countries; conscience inhales the truth as oxygen- that truth which is a great ocean.

   The ocean does not sit at anybody’s feet and bark, the voice of a storm does not know to say yes sir, The Mountain does not kneel down before any body.

   I, maybe after all a fistful of earth, but when I lift my pen I have the arrogance of the flag of a nation. I dip my travails in tears and munch them like biscuits.

   And unveil the great truth

   that a man, who is stronger than life, alone,

   can sculpture from word to century.

   Cut off my hands, still they will return and join me. In my storms the entire sky is blown away like a scrap of paper. So, now, of what value are those crowds of stars on my path? I only know this much, that human life is an exhibition of beastly forces.

   Today my memories are visiting me, filling my journey with breathless winds. I am one who runs in search of storms, wounds and drunkards.

   But at the sight of the peaks of people, I melt into a poem and flow onto the paper. An earthquake is born in my language. In the fiery blood flowing in floods from broken hearts of words, human tongues are floating. Sweep off all this rubbish of verbiage of words. Then will appear on the page clearly, my pearl white voice.

   – Seshendra Sharma
   http://seshendrasharma.weebly.com

   

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9. 

   Abbey February 11, 2021, 4:36 pm

   I send my sympathies, Abbey

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