The colours of Spring

One more turn of the season. One more springtime. 

One cannot but marvel at the way there is an unexpected spurt in growth of vegetation and ripening of pollen, and the resolute busibodiness of the birds in and around our place. 

The bougainvillea has burst into riotous color as if on cue from an unknown master

And the poppies, who seem to be waving in unison 

Even the hedge has sprouted into flowers, for such is the pull from the elements at spring!

The black rose has bloomed again in undecipherable, complicated folds 

And I was lucky enough to catch a yellow ladybird on a sunflower in full bloom 

Amid such splendour, I am completely at a loss of words. In the midst of such a vibrant splash of colour, one cannot be but speechless with wonder at the sheer magnificence of it all! How does all the colour come into being in such perfect combinations as that of the ladybird for example, or the verbena!

       

And as the moon rises over the horizon, the colours fall silent. 

Dimitry Shostakovitch's second waltz, for the indescribable lightness of being alive  ..

Late Evenings

It's a mad, mad wind that blows tonight. The lower branches of the neem tree, margosa, agitate first, when the upper branches remain still. After the slightest lag in time, the neighbourly sagwan, the teak tree, begins to sway and then, the swirl of the wayward wind hits me. An incomprehensibly bleak sky lets down a few drops. A slight chill and surprise at the growth of the jasmine bush, which is almost as tall as me! 

It could rain early in the morning for wide swathes of steel rimmed clouds hide the blooming stars 

What have I to say to you
When we shall meet?
Yet
I lie here thinking of you.

These are the opening lines from a poem by William Carlos Williams. Dr Williams was a medical doctor apart from being a modernist poet and I came across his Love song just by chance.

And here is Pathways, by Rainer Maria Rilke - 

Understand, I’ll slip quietly
away from the noisy crowd
when I see the pale
stars rising, blooming, over the oaks.

I’ll pursue solitary pathways

through the pale twilit meadows,
with only this one dream:
You come too

Finally, a Japanese poet Otomo Na Yakamochi, sounding remarkably similar but in that quaint Japanese manner -


From outside my house, 
only the faint distant sound 
of gentle breezes 
wandering through bamboo leaves 
in the long evening silence. 

Late evening finally comes:
I unlatch the door
and quietly
await the one
who greets me in my dreams

Elgar's Cello Concerto is said to be synonymous with Jacqueline Du Pre, but this performance by Yo Yo Ma of the first movement will surely leave you dreaming..

Black on White

Many years back, I saw a movie where there was a memorable number played on trumpet. Down the years, I forgot the name of the movie or of any of the actors, except that there was something about a tragic shock that made a musician abandon his music. It was just the tune I remembered. 

Finally, after a lot of searches, I came across the movie and the number. It was Nature Boy, played on trumpet, in the movie Angel Eyes, starring Jim Caviezel and J Lo. 

The song is a semi auto graphical number, written by a person who was found under the Hollywood sign when Nat King Cole tried to find him because he wanted to have it recorded, after he was given the song in a sheet but Eden Ahbez failed to meet him. Nat King Cole recorded the song in 1948, and after that the song has been used in many films and sung or performed by many as well. Here is the original version by Nat King Cole - 

There was a boy

A very strange. enchanted boy

They say he wandered very far

Very far, over land and sea

A little shy and sad of eye

But very wise was he

And then one day, a magic day

He passed my way, and while we spoke

Of many things, fools and kings

This he said to me

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn

Is just to love and be loved in return"

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn

Is just to love and be loved in return"

Somehow, the tune reminds one of sepia tones, of the wide open spaces one used to paint and dream about. Of journeys, descents and climbs. Of nights under the moonlit sky, and the clouds floating by. Of you, especially, you

Why do you

love the black

on white

The clear patterns

The solid, straight lines

Keep you happy, right?

Consider the absolute

Darkness

Of the abyss

The blinding brilliance

When everything merges

Into unreal heat

For you,

the myriad greens, 

Oranges and blues

Why are you
then, in love

with

The unspeakably black

And the unearthly 

White