Spoken word: Jugalbandi of words and art

Love of poetry and storytelling had me stop flipping radio stations and listen to "The deck of cards" by Tex Williams; experiencing a  Haruki Murakami moment "Whatever it is you are seeking won't come in the form you are expecting." I had discovered a form of art, spoken word. An estuary of narrative and music  for the soul. A confluence of words and performing art, dance and theatre. All this, over a banal trip, ridden with gnarling Delhi traffic, browsing through FM channels indifferently, driving back across 3 states from work.

I was in the throes of a scripturient urge to celebrate my abecedarian finding. The drive seemed longer than usual, there was so much to do; quench my curiosity by reading more, attend to a deluge of examples, listen to new finds and compile a playlist. Most of this though, was curtailed to the luxury of late evenings that afforded time for myself.

Sunscreen,  Are you lonesome tonight, Yeh kahan aa gaye hum, have been all time favorites, only today I  know better, I can flaunt the genre of music they belong to and discover more such gems.

Political motivations, social causes, religious discourses, leadership speak, life experiences, stories, folklore and many more expressions have found themselves in this experimental art form.

I have put together a humble playlist of Hindi spoken-word tracks to show and tell what spoken-word is all about,  and with your suggestions it could only get better. 

Get the complete playlist: Here

4 beautiful poems written by Javed Akhtar recited by Farhan Akhtar in Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara

Apne Hone Par Mujhko Yaqeen Aa Gaya | Yeh Jaane Kaisa Raaz Hai | Dil Aakhir Tu Kyun Rota Hai | Toh Zinda Ho Tum

An all time favorite from a movie which is poetry in motion, Rituparno Ghosh's Raincoat. The movie is an adaptation of O' Henry's short story "The GIft of Magi". Enjoy the recitation in Gulzar's baritone and Shubha Mudgal's voice in Piya tora kaisa abhiman.

Calling Amitabh Bachchan fans. Silsila scores high on music  and poetry. Yeh Kahaan aa gaye hum has Amitabh Bachchan monologues and Lata Mangeshkar singing to Javed Akhtar's  lyrics.

Light

Heavy head,

Heavy heart.

Eyes wide open,

Before the crack of dawn.

Flashes intermittent, with blankness.

Stillness on face.

Silence in person,

Chaos within.

Time ticks,

Time paces.

Self, a basic instinct.

Boundaries blur,

Walls emerge.

Impregnable future,

Fragile past.

Getting ahead?

With open eyes,

At the crack of dawn.

Black

White is all colors

Yet

We call it pure

Black is absence of color

Yet

We call it impure

White reflects everything,

An impenetrable chill.

Black absorbs everything,

An inclusive warmth.

White is blinding

Black is blind

White is marriage

Yet

White is death

Black is protection

Yet

Black is death

Transition from life is peace

Peace is white

Yet

Rituals are black

Transition in life is chaotic

Chaotic is black

Yet

Ceremonies are white

Coal hardened to diamond

Black seasoned to white

Black is the reason for light

Black is the soul of white

Shouldn't white be black?

Fallen

Bright lights,
Big city.
Meandering streets with faceless entities.
Finding familiarities in nothingness niceties.
Yellow raincoat,
Puddle soaked feet.
Puddles for lakes,
Alleys for express streets.
Dilapidated creativity on graffiti-laden stone walls
Or lesser gods at life’s call
Frayed toothless smiles,
Grease smeared passersby.
Disguised charades,
Or victims of the urban epidemic.
Shredded being,
Patches and threads that hold the cover.
Clinging onto soul piercing shards of shame.
Distraught pleasure in metal crushers heave down car graveyards
Doomsday?
Naah!
Just a pit stop.
For evolutionary transformation,
Reduced to shapeless iron,
Looking to be crafted into an object of desire.
Deliver the earths ye potter,
The iron ye blacksmiths,
The souls ye poets
Dazed mind, hazy vision,
Warm blood trickling temple to chin,
Losing ground.
Natures pain of labour,
For darling creativity.
Churning stomach,
Craving for just once more.
Gashed its arms to lend the world its beauty.
Ah! The high of creation,
Make believe or believable?
Flickering misery, flinching hope,
Fallen.
Blackened nails, infested wounds.
Crooked wry happiness,
Rats gnawing into skin.
Stench of inconsequential
Calling the bright lights in the big city.
Fallen

Finding love in unreal places

Finding love in unreal places
A beautiful story, defaces.
Vacillating countenance
Dry eyes cried aloud.
How could the gospel truth
Be so far beyond?
Never looked me in the eye.
All that numbed my head,
Affections without a stance.
Belied.
Trials of belief in self,
Time and again.
Dainty love,
Coffined his strength.
Victory of her demonstrated vulnerabilities,
There was never a battle to win.
Can’t cry foul and yellow,
No bone to pick,
Each conceded,
Cackles to bouts of silence,
Venting of one, sans duologue.
Relenting once into momentousness
No memories, just flashes.
Blinded then, in hindsight.
Surreal, in time.
looking for love in unreal places.
Finding love in undone spaces

Cents to a Dollar

Every cent you take
You give back a dollar.
Every moment you fake,
You get closer to reality.
Its all about un-thought unscrupulous mortality.
Deathless.
Breathing life into listless insanity.
What really is sanity?
Is the glass half full?
Or egg half broken?
Am I simply an opportunist?
A characterization of contrived adherence?
or a picture of societal free fall?
You will love me tomorrow,
Do you see me with you today?
Time is not uni-dimensional
But a multidimensional mess.
Walking dark alleys,
Silencing poltergeists.
Or is that scream a longing for silence?
Palpable.
Untouched.
or conveniently forgotten?
Delving into condescending duality,
The spell of frivolous lust and greed.
Knowing men are vents for gods sins
HER unpretentious pleasures
His happiness but a mirage.
HER love for him, a masquerade.
And when was it that you saw beyond the almighty's mask?
HER surreal identity,
His unforgiving hypocrisy,
Both brutal.

I sit by the sidewalk,
Investing cents for a dollar to roll back.

-Jugalbandi @Route04

Art & Science of Deception

Elementary, my dear Watson!
And that’s what the world remembers.
A line that never existed.
The untruth that lives each day and dies.

We see what we want to.
We hear what we desire.
We believe an illusion.
And when the illusion breaks,
Say that the world conspires?

Deception is a strange game.
It relays a vicious cycle.
It plays on the weakest link,
Trust in another,
Until it feeds into your self
The beginning is where it ends.

What you give is what you earn.
What you get is,
Neither fate,
Nor out of turn.

Tied to strings,
Self-professed, oh so detached!
Holding onto the last straw,
That sinks.
Instead,
Believe in oneness and survive.

Definitions and boundaries,
Amorphous principles,
Open to scrutiny and sub-judice.
Collective intelligence,
Limiting individuality,
Pre-ordained paths to happiness.
Crafted concepts of social being.

Subterfuge of who we are
And perception.
Striving for acceptance,
Moving to religion.
Restricting living,
To sheer existence.

One amongst the plenteous stages of evolution
Is self –admission
to ravenous narcissism and intemperance.
Arguably,
love of self is ‘the’ driving force
Confronted with a tirade of continuous dissent.

All are born with colored eyes
With colored love and a colored mind.
with the ongoing struggle to demystify
with a challenge to revive
a sonnet called life.

An ode to Udaipur

A spec in the dust
raises a storm
of its sand.

Carries with the wind
a whistling whirlpool
of dying roots
and staple citrus rind.

An arid land,
thorny bushes and cacti.
Changing hues of the sky,
from blues to grey to tan.

Topography changing hands
where past and present blend.
Mirages of civilization
in the narrow alleys of palaces
tourists smitten by eerie fascination.

Copper pots and pans
women adornd with silver embellishments
men with overt masculine demonstrations
a culture entrenched in rich tradition.

In Love, Margarita

There is nothing more I could do
but tell you how and why,
I love you more,
each time I look into your eyes.
It is like falling in love with you from the very beginning
The time seems to rewind,
All the people and moments seem to standstill.
To our hopes and the glint of our love
There is a flame you bring to our lives
There is nothing more I could do
But express the love for you I carry inside
To tell you that you are the one for me until tomorrows
Until the suns and moons of our lives
Together we see the secret gardens of our selves in each others arms
There is nothing more I could do
But tell you how deeply I love you dear
Love you each day of my life,
Like the one day that it takes to survive.
It is our one life we make it together
We carry each other through good times and otherwise
Hold each other & come back from occasions we never did part
Awake and relentless we hold ourselves together,
With every rhythm I dance to, every tune I hum
We know it is our song, we have sung it together
Rejoicing and rekindling the love that blossoms
There is nothing more I could do
But tell you how and why
You mean everything that defines meaning in this life and in those to come.
- In love, Margarita

So Far...

So Far..

It has been easy so far,
The truth that dwelled in our lives
Was buried and scarred
As I re-visit the essence and drive
I feel compelled to correct the standards to survive
To resurrect the dying aptitude in moral conviction
to improve in small measures
to make doable resolutions

A process of self help
A guide to what I would like to be known as best
The things I would like to do
The things that I would find time to pursue
The approach is not a whirlwind solution
But the implementation of an idiom I heard at kindergarten
Rome was not built in a day
Simple thoughts put into practice through simpler actions
Will comprise a fruitful day


An inner truth we aspire for
Is to realize our ambitions
In spheres we care for
These are:
Our definitions
Our descriptions
Our search for meaning of life

In all we do in a day’s cycle
Over an extended period of time
What stands out is the lack of growth in monotonous routine tasks
That we train our heart and mind to execute in factions of time
The vicious cycle is not never-ending, once identified
There is indeed an attachment to the mundaneness of our lives
Severing of the everyday ties
Comfort with ambiguity is rarely high
Attempting to change though healthy, is a courageous try
Moreover, can you change what you have known of yourself all your breathing life
A one shot claim is at best an outburst, an outcry,

The mechanics to change are often not hostile
The transition is through
improvements in small measures and doable resolutions
each day, everyday of our lives

Of The Lesser Gods

Children borne of the lesser gods
condemned to a life of disdain
where gurgling laughter
and innocence lose their meaning
early years are reserved for menial training.

Corrupted minds and corrupted hearts
the milieu tearing their childhood apart.
a roving eye,
an outstretched arm
seeking comfort from another's alms.


Exposed to the ways of the world
nobody to tell them, right from wrong.
The only lesson they learn
that molds them at their tender age
is to survive, just another day.



Yet these children, borne of the lesser gods
instinctively, make choices,
choices of which normal childhood is made of.
They play in mud,
cry in pain
build castles of clay
and string empty cans as trains.
They too admire their reflection in the mirror,
impersonating a superstar
gather the rags to innovate them as dresses
for junk, they label them baubles and trinkets.
They too seek others of their age
uncannily,their games resemble games of those born to normal personage.

When one amongst the children, borne of the lesser gods
begins to thrive and shine
when one amongst them, begin to more than just survive
A challenge to those living lives of normalcy
One of whom, points them towards their shrine of abject misery and dependency
borne of the lesser gods, you forever will be.

An Apocryphal Song

Part I

An apocryphal love song
A terrible day
Post a worn out storm
What seems actual
Is but a vicissitude of life
Urging the inner strength- to live on
In pangs of lust
In throes of futile hunger
Candor buried under a nebulous cloud
A constant aching monologue
Trepidation over an apocryphal love song

Part II

To my love, I address this piece, my part of the monologue.


An apocryphal love song
A song i sing to you
An apocryphal love song
A song I bring to you
Today, under this moon and starlit sky
I forsake my miseries,
in your arms, I reside
When I loose all my charms
and the hay days are bygone
Will you heed my eyes?
or will you lead me into lies?
Will the love song of our lives survive ?
or the dream I dream die?

To my love, he said, I address this piece.

An apocryphal love song
A song that you sing to me.
An apocryphal love song
A song that you bring to me.
You walk into my arms with a warmth in your smile
it lights up my life like the moon and stars in the sky
with each day of your life you give to me
admittedly, the charm in you, begins to die
No more do I bring you flowers and wine
but true to my word
you have the sincerest eyes
My heart aches to see yet another moment go by of our lives
"together" our love will survive

A "love" song you sing to me
for the "love" you bring to me
believe in the words I speak
the flame of our love will never die.

PHENOMENAL WOMAN

This is my favourite piece- and the first amongsts the posts that I have not written


Pretty women wonder where my secret lies
I'm not cute or built to suit a model's fashion size
But when I start to tell them
They think I'm telling lies.
I say
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips
The stride of my steps
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please
And to a man
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees
Then they swarm around me
A hive of honey bees.
I say
It's the fire in my eyes
And the flash of my teeth
The swing of my waist
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say
It's in the arch of my back
The sun of my smile
The ride of my breasts
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say
It's in the click of my heels
The bend of my hair
The palm of my hand
The need for my care.
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That's me.


by Maya Angelou

Memoirs

The days of self definition,
Those days of freedom.
Living each day of our lives,
With the few, restricted choices at our discretion.

The days of casual conversations,
Intermittent, with spurts of laughter.
Those days of flirtatious admiration.

Novelty, was in all we did.
First-timer adrenaline rushes.
Gasping in horror over breath analyzers,
Post trouble-making and it's ramifications.

In love with multiple people, simultaneously,
Pouring out sighs of adulation.
Only if we could put together someone, that satiated our fascination.

The stolen askew glance to the one we desire, to call sweetheart,
Exchanging polite conversation with their best cohort.
Coffee-dates translating into endless gossip sessions,
Extrapolating multifarious possibilities one dreamed of.

Short-skirts and pleat-less trousers.
Hair styled to perfection.
A let loose, tie.
An air of confidence.
An expression, of the wannabe millionaire.

Cans of coke,
Jargon about the dame and ol’ bloke.
Slangs of generation next,
Rolling of r’s,
Struggling between British and American accents.
Alas! Contemporary hip-hop lip sync, an aspiration.

The coolest gig-
Traditional waltzing in dim lighting with a demure babe.
Driving to hangout joints with blaring tape.
Rally cars, with metallic fenders and modification.
Swatch to flaunt and mobile rescue operations.

Going dutch on fine-dining,
To afford the delectable chocolate cake.
Setting valentine’s as target to get oneself a date.
Movie romances that transported one to dream locations.

Last minute assignments!
What’s with the examinations?
Burning of the midnight candle to get a first glimpse at the syllabus in question.
Scanning the question paper for the eureka moment,
In hope to see something that trigger's our imagination,
Clenching the pen between our teeth,
With our fingers in circular motion,
In deep thought of falling grades,
Anxiety of passing and the commotion within.
Convinced we’d have cracked the paper,
Given just another day of preparation.

So tutorials will be it, parents forceful assertion.
The passport to your future millions, their declaration.
Yeah right! Like group studies were helpful!
So will be yet another commercialized educational institution.

With the best of wardrobe on display,
The best bet to break away from the school uniform, oh so mundane.
To flaunt the recent purchase of imported fragrances,
Wear streaked, treated-hair in any form,
To fall in place or apart, trained to conform.
Torn-denims, anti-fits, low-waists called the shots in the fashion hour
Tees that showcased the arduous work done.
Brief,  flashes of  brand endorsements, where one hadn't gone.

Basketball in hand, heading for a smoke on the court.
Equipped with all the accouterments, to be on the ground.
Football was incidental, cared for the crowd.

The high fives on meeting,
Hugs echoing fraternity,
Friends ganging-up  for the sneak peek of F-TV,
To ogle at the damsels walk the ramp in bikinis.
Discussion about the hottie round the bend,
A new entrant to the colony.

Geeks don’t go far was the mantra,
Have fun, the war-cry
Years from the day of school farewell,
Half a dozen batches or more apart from that day of graduation.
The thread that ties,
The days of self definition,
Those days of freedom,
Is living our life to the fullest,
With the few, restricted choices, at our discretion

Back to Basics

Fancy a day in your life
You had no inhibitions
No one knew who you are
No one knew who you are meant to be

Broke like an old fake coin
Walking the streets at midnight
Rolling back tears
Wishing away your fears
With nothing to loose
With nothing to hide

A glum playful you
like when you were seven
pelting cobbles, knocking empty cans on the way
making deranged imitations of passers by
staring at your fingers as they take imaginary shapes
giving away your last dime to keep a poor child’s benign smile
unpaid bills, strewn clothes,
an empty house and an emptier self- unassured
How you wish to unlock the door to “your life”

And now you question me
Whose fancy, could this possibly be?

You wish away others expectations of you
When the only person left to live for is- oneself

Reach out for that dumped, cob webbed haversack
Throw in some clothes
And a pair of keds to match your stride
Hitch and ride your way
Striving for menial work to earn your daily bread
Small talk with strangers
No place to stay
Unabashed about, seeking out
Admittedly you smile more often than you cry
Perhaps more often than you ever did in you past way of life
Each gesture of generosity, a pleasant surprise
An adventure story, each day to summarize
A comfort with uncertainty
A calm, composed centre of locus
A strength to see the world through the most beautiful eyes
Clutter seems to vanish, vanity dies

Only if we could undertake this journey
Travel back to basics of our lives
A role play, with no restraint
Unsurpassed anonymity by our side
We will fancy each day- “every day” of your lives

Biblical Seven Sins of Life

In the shadow of grey
One toils with profligacy
Let's introduce ourselves to the dark side today.
Step back and push common perception aside
I am going to walk you through the biblical seven sins of our lives.

Pride and vanity antithesis of humility
In the garb of ‘I’ and healthy competition
Caught up in the web of comparison
Feeding the gratification of dignity
Proud of what one is and whom one has.

Avarice and greed contradicts generosity
Cloaked in want for one’s fair share and a little bit more.
Whose yardstick do we use to define a true altruist
Can one give more than what one seeks ?
Can one manage expectations when they peak?

Envy is everything love is not
Disguised and huddled in the hearts of all
Impatience destroys the love inside
Too much of love is the shard of envy that pierce’s one through
Numb and immobile, selfless love.

Wrath and anger destroy the acts of kindness
Flaw of the human mind
It remembers what it listens to last
A look, a touch, a word so harsh
Revoke at will, one cant.

Lust to placate sensuality,
Desire insatiable, for power, money and lovemaking ruthlessly
Pleasure of uncontrollable adrenaline rush
Stifling for the lack of sobriety
Overwhelmed by opportunities of extravagant lifestyle

Gluttony pushes the limits of temperance
Hankering for debauchery, regalement and social vibrance
Certitude in morality and responsibility , an extinguishing flame.
Appetite to challenge faith
A path easier than forbearance

Sloth is effacing the zeal
Blighting zest for life and the spiritual inside
A sense of wasted-ness,
Stupor of mind and thought
Accepting without questioning, subscribing to existing schools of thought

In the shadow of grey
Toiling with profligacy
Living with the dark side today
Common perception pushed aside
The biblical seven sins of our lives.

Spiteful Calm

Am I the same?
Do u picture me any other way?
Is it wry? Are you dismayed?
I pretend to peak in confidence
And you think it is high
It is nothing more than a display
No one knows who I am, not even I.
I am not the one you believed in
Am I shattering your belief?
I am shattering mine.
I know I am not who I wanted to be
Far from love and far from life of others
Untouched by complexities
May be that’s all that I care for
Are those beliefs mine?
My verdict against yours
My truth against love and life
It is not for fear of pain or that I foresee life as dim
It is all those anxieties one faces when there is hope and folklore
All things I’d care for and all those moments I’d deny
I’d see the time skim through me and realize that it leaves us all bare
To show the face of nostalgia is to bare your face to the world
And as it fades colors, blurs one’s opinions
Surfaces the unknown
We are to witness this exposure,
We are born to experience
This life in its verve and dynamism
all that it brings to the limelight
Random thoughts and random patterns
Leaving us vulnerable to the inevitable
After a storm calm will reside.

World of One

When worlds come together and destiny does us apart
There will always be a smile on my face that your memories will bring back to my heart

When there will no sunshine, and there will be no hope
I will feel the warmth of your palm slip into mine and guide me through the dark sorrow.

Connect to me today as you did yesterday and will tomorrow
Be with my soul as we have never been apart

In your presence, I am inspired to live in a fictitious day
In a moment, that is as fulfilling as strawberries dipped in chocolate sauce

A tug between the mind and the heart
You convince yourself with beautiful thoughts
The last dance I danced with you on a fateful night

An aroma of romance, in the nip of star spangled sky
The gown I wore to waltzing with my love
And you called me sweetheart
My toes pointed, arms rested on your shoulder with pride
You held me close, you held me firm in your arms
You led me once again
You led me to prance around the floor
with kindergarten delight
The twirls and turns
The enchanting music and mesmerizing eye lock
With nothing to hide
For the world to delight
The world of one

When the worlds come together and destiny does us apart
There will always be a smile on my face that your memories will bring back to my heart
I know you will be home to me before I call it midnight, my love.

Corrosion

A vial of corrosive fell on the years of fear
further it devastated what was so dear
it was ironical,
it was something that should have destroyed
it instead brought insight.
it did not make you possessive
it did not make you want
it instead caused a realization
that forever it is indeed yours.
now it is in your hands
your skillful creation
the mould is your mind
define it your way to best fill the crevice.

A tomb in which it shall be enshrined
you run your fingers through to smoothen the rough edges
the surface completely distorted

Very little that can be settled
an issue over which reasons are disputed.
reading those depressions that are made
the probability of future being narrower than present fade

The light at the end of the tunnel
the water under the bridge
a lot is left to be said

What has once been formed,
what has once gone
seldom will you be able to reform
it seems the worst to have ever happened
death would strike
calamity aint a far cry
moving on further
there is demise of end of hope
instead, desire surprise

the bottle of corrosive is the device
use it with discretion
practiced the wise
the treasure under the cloudy skies and blistering heat
a walk in the rain, wetting your soul,
brimming ostentatiously a bottle of belief.

Stagnation

I feel dull
I feel cluttered
I feel a lack of orientation
In a gamut of nothingness that occupies my mind
Inability to think
Inability to react
Lost in a world of slack
When one can stare at empty walls for hours
And every movement is rushed
Every word plays in slow motion
And a complete lack of comprehension
The world makes me dizzy
I want to stay by my side
Enjoy the feeling of being nothing
Let inconsequential presence stay
A rejected thought
A dejected life
On the border of distress and grief I reside
Energy is negative
Words are few
The mind numbed in vacuum
Like a black hole everything seems to sink
Everything collapses, in the force so intense
An expression of blankness
To hide the turmoil within.