365 days Jan. -12 2014– Take Two

I took a picture of the first things I saw,there are two cars parked in my neighbor’s driveway.  I came in and took a picture of  the second thing I saw, they are books on the table.

To write about these two objects and find a connection between them requires some thinking.

The first object is the car. Why do we have a car, the first word that comes to my mind is work. I drive the car to work. The distance between my house and work is several kilometres. I need the car to arrive at my office on time.

There are other things we need to take care of besides work, is to go to the supermarket for groceries. Drive my child to school. Take my kid to watch a movie on occasions. Sometimes I have to take my guest to the airport to get a flight to reach his/her destination.

The second object is a book. Books are essential to get knowledge. We read some for entertainment such as novels and short stories. Some books help us to learn languages. Some we need when buying a new car, these are consumer reports. It tells us about different cars, their performance,the safety features, gas consumption,how many cylinder engine works best and consumes less gasoline.

I’ve mentioned two objects which when we think about  seems to have no connection between them. But after writing about them separately. I do find a connection between them.

https://sabethville.wordpress.com/2014/01/12/365-days-jan-12-2014-Take Two/

DP Daily Prompt: Second time around post by Ranu

There are a few books I have read over. Actually I spoke to the book. There were things in it ,I didn’t get the first time.I decided to read it more than once to understand it. I am reading Paulo Coelho’s books now. I find I do not comprehend the first time what the book is saying,so I read it again to understand what does the author mean.

Paulo Coelho (Photo credit: nrkbeta)

Bashabari Tenanted House by Tagore translated by Ranu

It is my first trip to this city.

At two- thirty am.Am trying to find the address of the house.

With the lantern  in hand,I guess my way.

English: Rabindranath Tagore Русский: Тагор, Рабиндранат (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Like a python’s ghost there are lanes after lanes.

The confusion increases,as I make a stop

there is a wharf going down the left lane.

I see the house standing ,masked in disguise__

the doors and windows were open wide, it’s all quiet.

Near the window on the fourth floor there is an opening

the flame of the light is piercing the dark.

Rest of the estate

gives the picture of  fat veiled giants looking like  women.

A foreigner’s tenanted house it is__ some live a few months

with their family,spend  time here;

their work is done in a few days,they

pay off their rent and leave elsewhere,no one knows them or where they went!

I inquire ‘is there someone here, can I get a place?’

The voice says, ‘we are no–no more.’

from the doors and the windows all over the sky

swarms of birds are flying in the dark open sky .

Thousands of wings flying   all together

in the dark , sounds like, ‘we are no— no more.’

I say ,’what work brings you here?’

Reply comes,’ no one knows the reason.

In every age the  group of no– more is increasing;

when it becomes a confused noise

I suppress all the words with___

no — no more.’

Next morning in the same house I saw,

boys  playing a game of let’s fight,let’s fight,

with sticks in hand they were obstructing each other.

In the corner two old men were scolding one another__

the betting game is played only to win or lose,

the assets and liabilities keep accumulating,the account remains incomplete.

There is scent from the kitchen,and sound of dish washing;

the maid with the basket to the store is going.

One at a time I look at their faces,

I hear similar sound ‘we are no—– no more.’

porichay Introduction By Tagore Translated by Ranu

English: Rabindranath Tagore Русский: Тагор, Рабиндранат (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The boat docked at this wharf one day

it’s speed was like the breeze of fresh spring.

You called me and asked

‘do you have an identity,

where will you go?’

I just replied,’who knows!’

The river swayed,the rope was pulled__

Alone I sat and sang a painful song of my youth.

hearing that song

young men and women  under the flowered tree

picked the red flower__

gave it to me and responded,’ he is our acquaintance.’

Nothing else,

this was my first introduction.

Then during flood-tide

the game of ripples was completed;

song of the fatigued cuckoo

brings to mind the discourse of the days gone by;

the sweet smelling flowers falling,

floating far away,

are the remains from the previous night’s merriment

English: Ebbing tide on Sango Beach (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

lacerated

insignificant.

with the pull of the ebbing tide

the boat flows away towards the ocean.

the new passengers, boys and girls

call from far away,

‘watching the evening star

who are you rowing the boat?’

I pulled the string of my sitar,

sang once more,

‘let my name be known as,

your acquaintance,

and nothing else___

let this be my last introduction.’