Writing poetry is a way of life and embodies human consciousness. At a young age in school, I remember searching for the pearl of words as the artist painting with his brush and shading the rainbow of colors. I sent some of my poems, initially written in my mother tongue, to the publisher. To my surprise, I saw these poems appear on the hostel’s wall magazine. I carefully guarded my belief and hesitantly settled if it was the same handwritten poem I composed, when I was an intermediate science student, sitting in my old wooden chair. The words were tied together with the amalgamated thread of natural beauty and social fabrics. It gave me immense pleasure. I once again looked at him as he returned from the dining room. “It’s good that you have a certain inclination for literature,” my friends and older people congratulated.
I remember that my first poem appeared in print in the “SCOLOMANICA”. The title “Poems” reads as
“We are born to live
we live to love
we love to win
And we won to never come back…..
Love is the legend of life.
It has no shape, its own size
it is as pure as milk
and it is as soft as the snow of the Himalayas…”.
To this day I still keep the little magazine with great care. In fact, it has been a great pleasure to give birth to a creation in the form of art, poetry or dance. I often wonder if all these artistic manifestations reflect one’s inner recesses in a scientific style. When I share my writing with my friends and read in an aesthetic voice, I feel great comfort. Like a bird, I choose words carefully, rearrange them into a meaningful silhouette. Very often I feel that giving something to society through the treasury of words means some value.
Poetically we can interpret science and conventionally it unravels many reasonings. Voice realignment tracks a transmission path and flashes differently to become more understandable. Perhaps you will migrate some messages through the language interwoven with new phrases with lingering hopes of aspiring. To put it more frankly, here is one of my poems, “How beautiful…” published a long time ago, in the Indian Express:
if birds could talk
the trees could walk with us
flowers can express their
cause of smile
spring could say her wish
and meaning of songs to the rocks
the waves could stop for a while
so we can have some words with them
silence could spell your
love to be a saint
I couldn’t go back and
open its fresh petals
graveyard might wake up
after sunrise
and chat with us.
It emanates a scientific and social desire. Modern science, with all the possibilities, is considered to be revolutionized on the platform of reality. When we see a flower or anything natural, we poetically sublimate the beauty embedded in it. We celebrate it as art. Science reveals them in the form of color chemistry and light physics. The journey of literature meets social culture and creative scientific environment. I had the opportunity to make a point on this at a school wide meeting. At the end of my speech I solemnly promise that all this will come to my mind like a torrent of poems.