Saturday, 5 May 2012

my letter to the editor Deccan Herald

This was my letter to the editor Deccan Herald on 4May which was published subsequently on 5May 2012 morning in Bangalore  edition .

letters@deccanherald.co.in
Sir,

This is regarding the injunction by the veteran writer and columnist Kuldip Nayer- "Don't stifle the media" which appeared in Deccan Herald today.
I have great respect for Kuldip Nayar as the champion of freedom of Press but I was surprised to find him joining issue over the matter with the Supreme Court .What is the harm if the Hon'ble Supreme Court, in genuine interest, thought it fit to endeavor for the first time to lay down guidelines for the Press and media ? If the Founding fathers of the Indian Constitution could lay down guidelines for all successive Governments in the Indian democracy to pursue and follow the Directive Principles of State Policy in its governance then why should not the Supreme Court or the Indian Parliament can frame certain cardinal principles which should be practiced and followed by the Press ?. Many times we find that the television media and media as a whole have exceeded its limits of freedom of Press in highlighting a story completely based on their conjecture to sensationalize an issue in which a particular group of politicians, corporate group or a particular person is interested .In India media is owned by corporate groups and persons and they have their own policies and agendas and political leanings . It is therefore necessary that the Press should be open to healthy and constructive criticism in exercise of its right of freedom of expression or freedom of Press .
After all it is the Press in the last resort where ordinary citizen prefers to seek justice against the excesses of executive or poor performance by the legislature or miscarriage of justice by judiciary, but if the citizen finds that his "last resort" has also become corrupt with prejudices then the future of democracy is certainly in danger and freedom expression is in peril.
Regards,
GP Bahuguna

Saturday, 21 January 2012

Still I Rise by Maya Angelou

Still I Rise by Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
Maya Angelou & eSa fQj Hkh mB [kM+h gw¡
¼vuqokn xksfoUnizlkn cgqxq.kk½
eSa fQj Hkh mB [kM+h gw¡
bfrgkl esa rqe eq>s Bqdjkdj udkj ldrs gks]
vius dM+qos] nwfÔr >wB ds lkFk]
rqe eq>s foYdqy feV~Vh esa dqpy ldrs gkss ]
ysfdu eSa fQj /kwy dh rjg mB [kM+h gw¡xh]
D;k rqEgsas esjk niZ fopfyr djrk gS\
rks fQj mnklh rqEgsa D;ksa ?ksj ysrh gSs\
D;ksafd eSa ,sls pyrh gw¡ tSls eSajs ikl rsyds dq,a gks
tks lh/ks esjs foLrjokys dejs ls ckgj [khaps tk ldrs gksaxs\

pkan vkSj lwjt esa tSls Tokj HkkVs fuf'pr vk;saxs gh]
mEehnksa dh ygjsa mij mBsaxh gh
mlh rjg eSa fQj mB [kM+h gw¡A

D;k rqe eq>s VwV pqdh ns[kuk pkgrs gks\
flj >qdk;s] vk¡[ksa uhps fd;s gq,
<yrs da/ks fy; gq,s Vidrs gq, vkalqvksa dh rjg]
viuh Hkkoqd ph[k iqdkj ls csgkyA
D;k rqEgsa esjk naHkh LoHkko pqHkrk gS\
D;k rqe bls dqN T;knk gh eglwl djrs gks
D;ksafd eSa ,sls [kqydj gal ysrh gw¡
tSls esjs ikl dbZ lksus dh [kkusa gksa
tks esjs ?kj ds fiNokM+s [kksnh tk ldrh gSaA
rqe eq>ij vius 'kCn nkx ldrs gks]
eq>s viuh utjksa ls phjdj j[k ldrs gks
viuh uQjr ls eq>s ekj ldrs gks
ysfdu gok dh rjg eSa fQj mB ldrh gw¡A
D;k rqEgsa esjh dkeksÙkstdrk [kyrh gS\
D;k rqEgkjs fy;s ;g ,d >Vdk ugha gS\
D;ksafd eSa ,sls LoPNUn ukp ysrh gw¡
ekuksa esjh tka?kksa ds chp ghjs dh [kkus gksa
bfrgkl dh 'keZukd >ksiM& iV~Vh ls ckgj fudydj eSa mB [kM+h gw¡
ml vrhr ds xrZ ls mB [kM+h gw¡ tks nq[k nnZ ls Hkjk iM+k Fkk
eSa mB [kM+h gw¡
foLrh.kZ mQurs&mNyrs dkys lkxj dh rjg
vius vUnj Tokj vkSj rwQku fy;s gq,
vius ihNs vkrad vkSj Hk; dh dkyh jkras NksM+dj
ikS QVus ds fy;s eSa fQj mn; gks jgh gw¡
vk'p;Ztud:i ls Li"V
vius lkFk og lc lkSxkr fy;s gq, tks esjs iqj[kksa us eq>s nh gS
eSa mu nkl tuksa dk LoIu vkSj vk'kk gw¡
eSa vc mB [kM+h gw¡
mB [kM+h gw¡] mB [kM+h gw¡A



Saturday, 26 November 2011

Deccan Herald published my following letter on 24 November.
Sir
 BG Verghese is a writer of integrity and values who understands the nerve of the ailment and have rightly underlined the need for urgent reform in Press by bringing in a suitable law to discipline the electronics media particularly which has gone reckless in its responsibility
.
It  almost plays on your nerves when the news channels  go on harping on the same news throughout the day just to  settle their scores with an individual or party and serve as a tool to unleash vendetta .Justice Markandeya Katju has very rightly pointed out this malady and advocated for the need of a legislation to root out this evil which is rapidly sapping the vitals of democracy.There should be some institution to curve the irresponsible behavior of the print and electronic media.No one should
have a right to prejudice any person or institution  I
congratulate Deccan Herald to come forward to  support the cause of the freedom of press and maintaining the dignity of the Fourth Estate.
Yours Sincerely,
GPBahuguna
I wrote this letter to Deccan Herald yesterday in reference to Saeed Naqvi's article"Katju"s question" .  Indian public has general habit to relie upon foreign media to verify the veracity of any news item so much so that even late Rajeev Gandhi is learn to have switched on BBC to verify the news of Mrs Indira Gandhi's murder.Who is responsible for this sorry plight of Indian media? Government is partly responsible for this kind of embarrassment because  it has reservations  about sharing important matters which are directly linked with public sentiments.It has selective approach to media who may favour Government or a particular political party.The aggression of foreign media is seen particular in the developing countries who cannot afford to have their independent agencies based in different countries or continents.It should be mandatory for Govt to share its views or stand it takes on important policy issues so that imaginary stories are not allowed to be cooked by the
mischief mongers or story hunters.The public has a right to information and the information should voluntarily flow from Govt without being pressed for it.Then only the press will function in its given domain and not exceed its limit.

Sunday, 23 October 2011

WOMAN'S COURAGE

WOMAN'S COURAGE
¼L=h izR;; & Ykhyk/kj txwM+h English translation by GPBahuguna½

A woman by herself wanted to cross an empty road
She calls back her husband gone ahead of her
Who turns back disgusted and angry.
The woman by herself even thirty years past her marriage
Sought consent
Whether she should cross the road by herself?
She puts the man forward to lead her
And follows him with long strides
As if she was crossing an age
She appears in her lost confidence.

Translation into English by Govind Prasad Bahuguna

Thursday, 20 October 2011

THE FAMILY CARRIER

THE FAMILY CARRIER
¼ifjokjokgh yhyk/kj txwM+h English translation by GPBahuguna ½
The river is not same at its source
As it is found towards its end
It is a trickling drop in beginning
but swelling into ocean towards its end.

The sea has many beautiful spots
But the most beautiful are the seashores
You can enter the sea whichever side you choose
Or You may like to retreat in wilderness
Or into habitations.

The Sea is tucked like bouquet of flowers on the girdle of earth
Shifting its horizons here and there

The afternoon hills are filled with white bunches of foaming waves
A mirror filled with storms is vacillating in the sky

The ships are filled with restless dreams
The rickety boats over burdened with new catch
If a drop of water can reach to its end
Then anything can be made to float on it

I am a family carrier man
loaded with thousand problems.
Ah my drop! When you will turn into a river?
When will you swell into a ocean?
How much load you will be able to carry
I have to sail across like ship.
Translation into English by Govind Prasad Bahuguna

Wednesday, 19 October 2011

THE SPRING OF '82

THE SPRING OF '82
¼c;klh dk clUr English translation by GPBahuguna½

In what lightest shade of darkness
and luminous of light
Shall I write my impressions on Spring of 82
Which may be called a poem in few words

Shall I throw wreaths on selected spots
hit by bullets or
write odes on wounded feelings
Shall I describe kidnapped children whose faces were like tender flowers
Or say about lost people who were on pleasure trip somewhere?
I will not ask you to observe silence to remember them
Instead I will add-
Try to remember,which anniversary falls today for
those who had died or were lost
Some of them had gone barely a week before.

The delight of their gossip and odor of their bodies
The sound of their return follow in darkness
There are many apprehensions which startle in the light
they seem to appear in phantoms.

May be they were knowing the Spring shall arrive.
In their lifetime also the birds used to carry forest seed out of jungle
The earth hid them beneath surface when fell ripe
Seed do not get rot when lay buried in their home underground.
See, there are flowers in bloom everywhere!
But mark this also,
After all how much you can see through these flowers
If a long snowfall has arrived your doorsteps

Even then million of seeds every year
cross over many currents through unseen bridges,
Turn into green pastures of their own.
Some breathe their life to grow essential food for others
And reach in cooking houses unseen .

Much is wiped out perhaps due to arrival of Spring
After all, how much you can see through these flowers

Half right now, half later 
in family dreams which were left unseen.
Much thicker blood is flowing today than that of last one decade,
Even the latest fresh air feels dull
Like day on eclipse
A body is lying dead under all trees.

On the bank of silent river of dreams
Where dark forests are left behind
On a desolate sleepy spot
Coming out from the depth of rock
Some lonely plant is waiting death.

Worms are devouring it with glee
Round which a cold Spring night is wrapped like blanket
The flowering of his mixed experience of courage, wisdom and folly
Can be seen even in last moments of life.
But how much you can see with your rosy eyes.

Try to recall the smell of dead flowers before yourself
And think of the flowers born this year,
To which color, creed and species they belong
All before them you remembered the faces of children
The notorious devils also reflected the same color on their faces
Yet the Spring has arrived bringing New Year to its share
on anticipatory bail.
Translation into English by Govind Prasad Bahuguna

Tuesday, 18 October 2011

NOW AFTER SO MANY DAYS

NOW AFTER SO MANY DAYS
¼vc brus fnuksa ckn& yhyk/kj txwM+h English translation by GPBahuguna ½
One Goodness, One evil
The show highlighting victory of goodness over evil
has been going on for ages
Yet the sufferings continue to pileup
And the evil is on rise in the same fashion
As the goodness is declining to fall.

We lament profusely on decline of values and morals
We have been giving something or other to understand on values for thousand of years.

See! How strong is evil! And how weak is virtue!
The only ideal comes in mind,
Support the weak.
This motto will reveal the truth
How weak has become the case of the weaker.
The virtues of morality, celibacy, charity, and service
Tolerance, generosity and trust
Has been the burden of our song for thousand of years
Why cannot these virtues descend on us of their own after so many days now?
Translation into English by Govind Prasad Bahuguna

Monday, 17 October 2011

FAREWELL

FAREWELL
¼fonk & yhyk/kj txwM+h English translation by GPBahuguna½

I could not bring to retrieve myself
as I had wished on my return
Instead whatever you gave me back
Was not much as it was anticipated?

Your words are hovering around here
It is very hard to wish you goodbye

Receiving goodbye on saying bye-bye
If I quickened my steps quickly
And halted at that tiny plant laden with fruits and flowers where 100th year completes
The distance traveled up to that height unbroken
Retrieved in me on my return after saying adieu to you

Now I am a new soul completely
Fared goodbye in saying goodbye
Learning to be humble like tree with unripe fruits
Under the shadow of which children stand waiting
with raised sticks to begin hard hitting
When tree goes ripe with fruits

Translation into English by Govind Prasad Bahuguna

Saturday, 15 October 2011

POEM OF DEPENDENCE

POEM OF DEPENDENCE
¼Hkjksls dh dfork- yhyk/kj txwM+h English translation by GPBahuguna ½

The heart depends on the care of body
The mill depends on the care of labor
The country depends on the care of Government
But in whose care should we depend to leave young girl
And in whose care shall we depend to leave a lonely women?

Can you depend on the prices of commodities
And the mood of hooligans?

A person who intends to lodge
a complaint longer than a sheet contain
will also think for one moment how to depend on a
witness?

A fear emerges time and again
We may leave family in the care of house
But in whose care should we depend to leave the house?
Translation into English by Govind Prasad Bahuguna

Friday, 14 October 2011

THE FLAMING OF SEASONS

THE FLAMING OF SEASONS
¼ _rqvksa dk nhi yhyk/kj txwM+h English translation by GPBahuguna½

The sands seem thrilled
As the lush green grass sprang up
A newborn tendril picked up its sky today
The banana leaves moved
Each tremor holds its past
Exuberance quenched its running thirst
Dreams of bare stumps smiled on the departure of autumn
Each flower is a store house of nectar for bees
Whom did the song of bees hurt?
The fragrance picks wing to sail in the gust of wind
The first flame of season's lamp lights up the door of life.

Translation into English by Govind Prasad Bahuguna

Thursday, 13 October 2011

A JOURNEY TO FREEDOM

A JOURNEY TO FREEDOM
¼eqfDr;k=k& yhyk/kj txwM+h English translation by GPBahuguna ½
Driver!
We are men from your village.
Please wakeup!

Driver!
Please see !there is still flavor in things
We have brought bread and green vegetable with us
Would you want a bite?
We have brought water drawn from our well,
Would you like to drink?

Where do you want to go?

Driver please!
We are on a move
To liberate our village from the capital
----------------------------------------------------
Translation into English by Govind Prasad Bahuguna

Wednesday, 12 October 2011

THE TREE

THE TREE
¼^isM+¥ yhyk/kj txwM+h English translation by GPBahuguna½
The rivers are not natives anywhere.
There is no harsher and sharper weapon than water,
Yet it survived through terrible flood,
Stood immersed in waters up to armpits.
Snatching away from jaws of past destiny
It is nursing broken arms once again
over this plain ground up to that corner
Where the slope goes down towards left into darkness.

I must rise from my chair to meet this Tree.
It has difficult to match time
Following routine of the people living around
Because time of my movement is already past
and the points of departure are many.

I must not miss to see this tree anyway,
It took roots there where it grew up.
It leaped high and spread its wings there only,
It saw the light there only
And affected the air up to far ends
It never fought against itself.
Returning home from market errands in the evening
With my changed face,
I stop to relax or find my comfort sitting on the
body parts twisted by its ancestors.
Gives feeling of sitting on the skinned body of a man,
Who had died in leaning posture?

Resting elbows on its arms, I feel
whether I was not putting strain on the knees of workman,
So I must rise up .

Brooding over my end near and fighting my humility
I rise to free its arms from my burden .
But the death casts shadow a number of objects
which prompts me to save my woolen coat
My shoulders look awkward without its pads.

It gives shape to the rock heads for growth
It wears its skin as coat.
when I meet it I must not forget to realize
half of my person is hung upon its peg in my living room.
Bet
A piece of leather skin serves link always
Whereas it stands wholly rooted in the very soil.
I must myself familiar with this tree
Besides heating water for cure in my body vessels.
A full time span entered its organism one or other ways
in the form of jungle
When I go to meet this tree I must not forget
This city is due to half contribution by its ancestors.
Without knowing limitations it is trying to cover up whole earth by itself.
Along with its roots some more roots from outside
got it entangled underneath.
I must find out how it is moving with them
How green are its experiences in the universal darkness above surface.
Devouring waste land in darkness
it is defending entire slopes from erosion fighting
seasons,
Facing treatment of neighbors on stems
But breathing kindness under its rough skin
It stands naked to struggle on its will and face war .

Helping to manage body like factory.
It holds its arms erect like gun
It has filed its roots like soldiers
And pitched camp against the mood of earth.
Gaining height by the depth of roots underneath
The leaves are not sermons but its vibrant words
Drawn out from the core of its darkness.
(Their tone and content is not news)

Before going through fatigues of journey,
It will take bath in snow
For it was born by itself as individual,
And not grew up as mere symbol of its kind.

To fight battle it is keeping an eye on weather
Preparing its gorilla world underground
By shaking off leaves of anguish and experience.
There are buds of tender hope in its eyes
Which will rise with all gaiety of childhood
To drink away the light, air and water of sky
in one sip of milk.
It is trying to create surprise within one week
by bringing a riot in life.
A piece of leather skin serves link always
Whereas it stands wholly rooted in the very soil.
I must myself familiar with this tree
Besides heating water for cure in my body vessels.
A full time span entered its organism one or other ways
in the form of jungle
When I go to meet this tree I must not forget
This city is due to half contribution by its ancestors.
Without knowing limitations it is trying to cover up whole earth by itself.
Along with its roots some more roots from outside
got it entangled underneath.
I must find out how it is moving with them
How green are its experiences in the universal darkness above surface.
Devouring waste land in darkness
it is defending entire slopes from erosion fighting
seasons,
Facing treatment of neighbors on stems
But breathing kindness under its rough skin
It stands naked to struggle on its will and face war .

Helping to manage body like factory.
It holds its arms erect like gun
It has filed its roots like soldiers
And pitched camp against the mood of earth.
Gaining height by the depth of roots underneath
The leaves are not sermons but its vibrant words
Drawn out from the core of its darkness.
(Their tone and content is not news)

Before going through fatigues of journey,
It will take bath in snow
For it was born by itself as individual,
And not grew up as mere symbol of its kind.

To fight battle it is keeping an eye on weather
Preparing its gorilla world underground
By shaking off leaves of anguish and experience.
There are buds of tender hope in its eyes
Which will rise with all gaiety of childhood
To drink away the light, air and water of sky
in one sip of milk.

It is trying to create surprise within one week
by bringing a riot in life.
Come! show me a human soul
Who can struggle more than a tree yet keep its head held high
who can spread roots to save earth from degradation?

Translation into English by Govind Prasad Bahuguna


Tuesday, 11 October 2011

I AM BIRD WITHOUT NEST

I AM BIRD WITHOUT NEST
¼ uhM+ghu ik[kh eSa yhyk/kj txwM+h English translation by GPBahuguna ½
Birds in the valley invoked evening
Each ray of the Sun made obeisance

A bough waved goodbye to the distant traveler
Each branch shook off gloominess of the lonely sky
Each post of horizon began to sip saffron wine.

The droning hymn of bees carrying nectar
made the breeze heavy.
The blue flags of night hung on the mountain peaks
Holding corners of sky at both ends
Rain of tears poured down all night on the bosom of earth
opening all secrets of the wounded heart
A homeless bird as I am
could read each syllable of hurt message.
Translation into English by Govind Prasad Bahuguna

Monday, 10 October 2011

DAY OF PADDY TRANSPLANT

DAY OF PADDY TRANSPLANT
¼^yqax dk fnu^&yhyk/kj txwMh+ English translation by GPBahuguna ½
Wreaths of fresh cloud on naked peaks
climb down on spiraling hill path like flock of young sheep
The fields nestle close to each other like palm placed on palm
Their slender figures are bent like turn of river
The fingers planting paddy saplings
The flourish of their hands jingle with silver bracelets.

The celebration of drum beat goes on the hilltop
The bullocks of hope pull on furrows of life
Splash of water overlaps boundaries of the churning field
Soaking corners of earth's green scarf with mud.


Translation into English by Govind Prasad Bahuguna
† yqax dk fnu- A practice in Garhwal Hills to chose some auspicious day for transplantation of rice seedlings from nursery to the prepared fields. A ritual worship is performed by the village folks with celebration of drum beats and offering of sweet bread cakes to the presiding deity Indra to bless farmers with rich paddy harvest in coming days.

Sunday, 9 October 2011

TURMOIL

TURMOIL
¼minzo& yhyk/kj txwMh+-English translation by GPBahuguna ½
Ah the winners! The winners of this time!
Is this whole lot of dying people aspiring to go
heaven?
Since they died as martyrs in their struggle
for boarding public transport,searching employment, looting ration shops,
Died for want of medicine and in pursuit of nonsense.
They finished ultimately in their own battles.
Does this phrase hold good for them also
"If you get killed you will go to heaven"
Ah the winners! The winners of this time!

The heaven should be in pandemonium now
With the explosion of dying population reaching there.
Can you tell me something about
The nervous souls living there?
One more question!
The empty hell must be in shambles now
It should have enough means left for one person to live in ?
Sufficient scope to raise a big wheat farm, park and a farm-house there?
I intend to apply for passport to Hell.
And you say why should I choose a turmoil ?

Ah the winners! The winners of this time!
There should be check on the rising popularity of death now
The hell should also feel growth.
This is a seat only and not a horizon to rise
to be watched by people and not pulled down at their will.
-----------------------------------
Translation into English by Govind Prasad Bahuguna