responding with grief
to moments of joy
shared with loved ones
that are suddenly
no longer with us,
is memory so fickle
that it turns from love and joy
in an instant to grief ?
the purity that lay in that moment
altered and prejudiced forever
by ever changing forms
by fear of emptiness
by fear of loss.
hoping the tears
will wash away
unfettered by loss,
the mystery of death
being no greater than
that of birth
like two eternal lovers
one has no existence
without the other,
brings no memory
no carbuncles on its hull
but only wonder,
leaves a lifetime of memories
let the memories
in my tears
31 thoughts on “let the memory of love pass..”
Awesome poem 🙂
Dear Mr. Shekhar Kapur,
as long as love, memory and feelings persist
the moment for joy and grief
a pure love to the one we miss
Wow… Beatiful..Yet leaves us into deep dark.. 🙁
indeed an emotional poem..cause of separation I could not understand….may be cause no one can understand a women..
I can understand..but to be frank..the real life scnerio is always different…there the emotion of ‘love’ always fails cause ‘reality’ is most of the ‘humans have fear of unknown’ and that is why they ask the question in which option I will be more secure and they go for that option..usually female being practical they solve this problem/question more efficiently..this is true fact..you can not change this..and looking towards that is why I always repeat true love do not exits..the emotion which gets developed due to proximity, caring, spending time with each other etc..you can call as love..I do not have problem..
I am just trying to creat here easyness created because of this emotioal poem..and will like to share a story of a person..who fales in love after every 8-10 years and finally he realises that the person he was searching was just a lable dancing in his mind, it wasn’t s a reality..at some point due to some another stroke that dance in his mind stops and that stroke generates another name..another dance..some times he dance around that name, some times the name, sometimes the sorounding around them dance with them…and at the end of his death he realises that I was fooled by my own mind ..the mind was overcrowded of thoughts due to his job in an advertising firm..
thanks for sharing the poem..take care..subodh
thanks and take care…
In continuation with the above, when I read that story in college days, I found that hero more close to some characters..and I suddenly remembered inocent raj kapur joker from ‘Mera Nam Joker’, Raghuveer Yadav’s Mungeri Lal from ‘Mungeri Lal Ke Haseen Sapane’ and one more character of ‘Joker’s helplessnes infront of power and wealth’ (Vidushak) from welknown marathi writer’s book based on character based stories..the writer’s name is ‘D M Mirasdar’ fondly called as ‘Dama’. His stroy of Vidushak was super..
and today when I seen the film ‘Dil To Bachha Hai Ji’ Ajay Deagaon, Imran Hashmi and Chatur from 3 idiots (sorry I do not remember his name) then again remembered the same story..these all these characters are dragged or they are allowed to drag by their minds….male characters in this movie are only dragged..like I said earllier..nice movie
I think, so the reality is one and the same..
thanks and take care..subodh
tears are for ppl who’re lucky.
I can’t cry. Not anymore.
Nice poem , Shekhar
Why so much pain , in a transitory world ? How many loops of joy-grief-seperation-union-birth-death will it take for human mind to cognise that this world is ‘transitory’- this simple fact , which is so very simple , takes lifetimes to realize , internalize !
Funny Really !
Many ego, desire driven cycles of euphoria and despair , and the ‘journey’ relived through memories , romanticised to dregs but yet to no avail … since no one can defeat the cycles of time , so why despair loss or re-live a memory to an extent that causes pain..
just a play of images , however good or bad..
anyway on another more mundane note , did you read about China’ latest intransigence – they quote the Han dynasty and claim the whole of South China Sea ! The Gall of these rats !
India should go back to Mouryan Dynasty and ask them to keep off Nepal , Tibet , POK , and not to speak of Raja Raja Chola’s Greater India extending to South Eat Asia.
But then with Foriegn Agents running this Unfortunate country , there is no hope until something drastic happens.
to the ICU
i can’t feel
i can’t feel
of love for my body,
i can’t feel
of wow of my
Memories of love may pass, but will keep coming back
Namaste Shekharji. You are a brilliant director. Your sense of humour is amazing. I think you can very well portray human emotions. I am ur fan since my adolescence. Masoom n Mr. India are my favourite movies. Mr. India was a good combination of emotions, colours, humour and everything that a bollywood commercial movie needs. After that you havent made any hindi commercial movie. I request you to make a good commercial hindi movie. We want to see ur talent as a director again on the big screen. Its a humble request from a huge fan and all movie lovers. I know it will be a gr8 success. Please accept my request and reply. Wishing you a great life ahead! -Seema Verma, a housewife aged 47
Waiting for your reply and ur movie…
Hi Shekhar, Long time since I was last here…Loved your poem. How wondrous, how simple, how beautiful.
The very purpose of death is to erase memories so we can carry on without baggage in a new time/space frame, and yet it creates exaxtly that for those left behind.
I lost both my parents this year, my grief is something I do not share much with family and friends. I don’t see the point, they were my parents, but last night driving back from work, I caught myself a crying jag. I always thought that sort of thing does not happen in real life. Well, it did and felt right and in the car all by myself on the dark roads back to home, it felt right to let go in grief. No one to hear, and the sound from the radio drowned out my cries, and I cried for mom, a grown up person wanted to feel a last hug, a last scent of her, the soft touch of her sari. By the time I walked home I was back to my own self and did that lessen my grief ?
No, I still feel sad writing this, but what a strange coincidence that I found this website and this poem !
Its saturday morning and I am lazing with a mug of coffee and there it is, all because I was idly surfing the web. Been a fan of Mr. Kapur’s work so I googled him, the poem was beautiful and strange for me to find it today. Coincidence ? or maybe mom guided me here, she loved singing masoom songs, and I am maybe losing it , even contemplating such a thing…. tujhse naraaz nahin zindagi hairaan hoon..
thank u for writing in Anu, and you will be amazed at how many of us feel that way. I did not fully express my grief when my parents died. But every time I see people at a funeral, I am fighting back my tears, knowing that unexpressed grief lives on the edge of our lives forever.
At least forever till we find ways to fully express it.
I have always wanted to make a film on my parents. Or at least derived from the collective emotional memory of my parents. But every time I sit down to write the script the film I break out in tears. How am I ever going to cast or shoot that film ?
Yet one day I must. The West has this term called closure. As if there could be closure to existence. I doubt there could be closure to anything that exists within our Universe, but the desire to express that which we feel sp strongly is the desire for a creative act.
Not everything creative must turn into public expression. But there is something called personal creative acts. Like your moment in the car.
I do closly relate to your poetry. I have learnt to cherish the moments that were beautiful, filled with love ; that gave an eternal bliss.. just hold them there with time , stopping the trasition to grief.. but yes thats a tsunami with in yourself and the ocean of tears conspiring to wash them away !
This emotional juggle with the memories that you own are tough to fight, I was running away from these in search of solance..”let the memory of love pass” has got me to close to calmness!
Parting is painful, but inevitable….
Life is nothing but dream journey by soul. When the soul wakes up journey ended!!
Next sleep cycle of soul – new life formation on Earth. It goes on…..
Thank you Shekhar ji for the poem. I like the term ‘personal creative acts’. And thank you anu too for sharing your heart with us.
Oh thanks Shekhar,
hope that is okay to address you by your name, I do not get the whole closure thing. I feel like closure would come when I close my eyes in eternal sleep one day.
I guess, “coming to terms with the loss”, would be more my kind of thinking. Going on with life, knowing that my parents were happy with what little I have achieved. Believe me, your parents are so proud of you wherever they are. No one feels that kind of pride in your achievements like parents do.
Well, no one thinks you are the best, except for parents. I miss my mom so , I just wish she was around some more. But that is selfish of me, she fought with dialysis 6 years of her life and finally her poor tired body just gave way.
But life goes on for me now like she would want me to be. Maybe a tad of her fortitude rubs off on me. Some days feel good, I called an old friend today to just talk about basically, nothing and everything, that with a mug of coffee, made my sunday so much better.
Your movie will come when it will I think. Maybe, if I dare to suggest start with the begining, when they met. I have no idea how much of work goes in the pre-production of a movie , from a lay person’s view, it seems such a herculean task. And then to do something so close to ones emotion !
Isn’t crying supposed to be a form catharsis ? Not happened to me yet, but I can tear up listening to a song.
Sometimes Shekhar, I feel guilty for being so preoccupied in my grief of losing them. Specially when I hear of people going through such awful tragedies, however it must be the same for everyone.
I thank you so much for sharing your loss with me. Feel very humbled.
I sat and listened to the priest read and explain the verses. My mind kept wandering. Why this emphasis on the soul and its recycling itself ? Its good to know. But really does it comfort me to know that ? I don’t think so. I have this one life to live. I had this one set of parents in this life, this family I made, these siblings, these cousins, grandparents who’d tell the stories of life in a country we’d never visit, mom talking about the horrors, privations of partition, filling my childhood with stories of family and pathos.
And then you are told of rebirth, why does that matter ? Maybe its a way to keep us within the guidelines of social propriety. I am all for that , I do not have the gumpton to break social norms. Does that mean I don’t long to ? I do. What stops me ? Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Well, almost every!
Life is so complex, death is definite. However we keep on living, even though sometimes I feel that we humans are like ants, no matter how hard we try, the life can get squished out of us in breathtaking second.
Where does that leave the question of afterlife then? Also, I am never going to be the child of these maa and baba in another life. I had them only for this one. Wish I could get one more chance to ask them if I was an okay kid, I hope I did not cause them too much anxiety.
Well, that is not going to happen but I do have to go on for the rest of my life, and I do think the lyricists of b’wood songs are poets; “Jeena yahaan, marna yahaan, iske siva jaana kahaan.”
So true. I find their poetry easier to follow than Emily Dickinson’s. Hope her fans won’t mind the crass comparision.
Then again, existentialism is something some people made up to start a discussion, my thoughts exactly !
Made my heart heavy… beautiful!
My Christmas Gift
Some 12years ago !
I was 12year old. I was in 7th standard. As being from Non English medium for us Christmas was nothing but a day holiday. In English medium schools they give holiday for week but in other medium school it’s single day affair.
I was getting Christmas holiday from standard 1 but in 7th standard I came to know that what it’s all mean about. Christmas is festival of Christians. My Friend told that on day of Christmas a person name as Santa comes and drop gift for you.
My friend told me Santa drop gift in socks. We have to hang our socks and Santa will come to drop gift in socks. We got holiday for Christmas in school. I reached home and without peaking a signal word, I went to wash my socks as I didn’t want that Santa should drop my gift in socks which I am wearing from last 4days.
I hung my sock at corner of my bed. I was thinking about my gift which Santa was going to drop in my socks. I was thinking, in such small socks what he is going to drop. I was thinking for Small video game from Santa. I slept somehow in the night but when woke up in the morning I saw my socks are missing from my bed corner and was hanging on rope outside my house. My mother took socks from corner and washed it.
It took me another year to get a gift from Santa. Finally Christmas came and I hung my socks where no one other than Santa can reach. I slept in night and was thinking about Some good gift as this time I have used new socks of my father.
for more visit http://k9kamal.blogspot.in/2011/12/my-christmas-gift.html
Death is Truth of life but no one wants to accept it !
beautiful words will be underestimation here… Its the rare formation of ordinary words that is making it so meaningful that can transform ones thinking and outlook towards life. These words means a lot to me. Thanks.
Dear Sekhar ji,
I was disheartened reading this poem, if at all it could be called a poem.
You are a good director-be happy with that. Poetry’s not your forte and no point in trying. Your cinema is better poetry rather.
Instead of writing such a bad poem (?) remembering Anupam ji’s Dad, you may convey it in silence.You know silence is more powerful than thousand words.
Shekhar, I’ve been through this recently. You lack energy to write new posts and present old one’s to remain in circulation. It is something frustrating. I hope you pass this phase soon. Who knows then you may even begin a new film of which you are a master as manu dash has said above.
Meanwhile here too is related to a departed one though otherwise is a satire: http://bigtamasha.blogspot.in/2012/07/shocked-to-hear-that-vallabhbhai-patel.html
Whats utterly amazing is that your poem is written exactly
a day before my father died under extreme tragic circumstances.
He was a painter from the Progressive Artist Group
and his second exhibition of paintings was inaugurated
by none other than your uncle Dev Anand
As I held his broken mangled body in my arms
I felt an enormous deep silence
It struck me at that moment that
We cry not for the departed
but for ourselves
our feeling of emptiness
our sense of loss…
the person is dead and gone
so the grief is really about ourselves
Thanks for sharing, Anu and Shekhar ji. I guess there’s been closure in my case.Too many losses, some extremely painful.
I know this doesn’t belong here but I love your profile pic.
Your poem moved me to tears..it reflects so much the pain of separation ..touches the raw wounds..one can relate to it..sir you’re awesome!
Dear Shekhar ji,
The poem is very emotional, an expression of pure feelings, very touching. Yes, separation leaves a lifetime memories of associations, of fear, of loss…In any relation, parting always painful..In some yes,extremely painful. Separation leaves silent unspeakable memories. …
” ये तुम्हारे प्यार की बयार है
या उन हवाओं की है दस्तक ।
जो आज भी यहाँ आकर, मेरी ,
खिडकियों के पल्लड़ खड़खड़ाती हैँ
और बार बार अक्सर लौट कर यहीँ आती हैं।”
Keep writing and sharing Shekhar ji.