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Spring: Season of Love

Inspired by two Bengali songs, Prof. Sonjoy transcreates the romance of Spring, exclusively for Different Truths.

To the lilt of the flute
To the beat of the Mridanga
Comes the king of all seasons 
In rasa and ranga.
The air in rainbow hues tinged
Flying in peacock feathers winged
 
In the swing of your cadence
Your fragrance and lilt
You hold my heart in your sway
Dyed in your colours, tinged in your hues
Is your Holi played this way?
 
You are the colours of a riotous Spring
All around in a flaming ring
You are the nectar’s flow in its stream.
Drowned in your nectar
Drunk in your Wine
I move lost, adrift in a dream
 
Through me your melodies ring
Through me your tales sing
Through my Ektara string
I fill my baul bag’s shoulder sling
To the dancing beat of my anklet’s swing.

Poet’s Note: Starting with a classical bandish based on Basant raag celebrating Holi, the spring festival of love, and the dalliance between the gopinis and Krishna, our God of love (baaje Mridanga, udata rang aaye Rituraaj re), I meandered into a baul song sung by SD Burman (Borne Gondhe  Chhonde Gitite, hridoye diechho dola), which celebrates the reciprocal love of the lover for the beloved and the love of the devotee for the divine (the baul for his mursheed) in the backdrop of Spring and its sensual romance with lovers of nature.)

Visual by Different Truths

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Prof. Sonjoy Dutta-Roy
Sonjoy Dutta-Roy, Professor, Department of English, University of Allahabad, has published three volumes of Poetry. The Absent Words was published by Writers Workshop Kolkata in 1998, followed by Into Grander Space again from Writers Workshop in 2005, followed by Diary Poems and Story Tellers Rhymes by Author House Bloomington, USA in 2012. He is involved with Theatre and has Directed several plays and acted in many including Karnad's Hayavadana, Elkunchwar's Autobiography, Mohan Rakesh's One Day in Aashad and Aadhe Adhure, Tagore's Dak Ghar and Dattani's Tara, among many others.
2 Comments Text
  • हिंदी में असमय कुछ करने पर उलाहना देते हैं ‘कि आप सावन में फाग गाने लगे’!!
    Memory of that reproachful statement strikes me as I read this beautiful poem. Basant can be mellifluous in monsoons as well.
    Lively images of fragrance, hues, rasa, rang transcends to an ethereal level, the level where words cannot traverse beyond a contour.

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