New Year Musings (Poem)

New Year Musings

 

As a charming lad

Crooning songs atop the

Almond tree

Singing like the koel – is no big deal

In the youthful brimming days

Penning poems on Gul mohar

On the hopping hoopoe and straddling lapwings

And extemporaneously writing

Short haiku-like poems

Is no big thing either

 

During the unbearable wintry

Months

Trekking in minus 40 degree F

Standing erect like the emperor penguin

In the freezing snow showers

And blizzards

 

While

Being hit uninterruptedly

On the face with snowflakes

Daily walking for forty-five minutes

Then you come to know;

Or intimations

Of

What is Brahman, what ‘s ecstasy,

What’s Advaita

That is possible for only

A

Rajayogi Narendra,

Acharya Sri Rama Sarma, or Padmakar – only

They can unfathom it

Poets like me

People like myself swing

In the cradle of nature

Meditating on the essence of

The conglomerate embodiment of

The Eight entities (Copyright 2026 by the author)

(Translated from the Telugu original poem penned on the

eve of Telugu New Year)

ఉగాది స్వరాలు

 

చిన్నారి పొన్నారి చిఱుత కూకటి నాడు -

నాడు బాదం  చెట్టుపై నుంచి 

కోయిలలా  గీతములు పాడుట గొప్ప కాదు

నూనూగు మీసాల పాల పొంగు 

యౌవనములో తురాయి, రేల పూలపై

హూపుల మీద, తీతిర పిట్టల పై  

కొంగ్రొత్త

నానీలు వ్రాయటం పెద్ద గొప్ప కాదు 

కాదు,

తీవ్ర దుర్భర హేమంత, శిశిర ఋతువుల్లో  

సున్నాకి దిగువ, క్రింద నలభై డిగ్రీల 

ఫారెన్ హీట్ లో బిగిసిపోయే చలిలో 

స్థాణువులా చక్రవర్తి పెన్ గ్విన్ లా 

ముఖము మీద బరఫ్ 

ఎడతెరపి లేకుండా పడ్తుంటే 

నిర్భరముగా ప్రతిరోజు దినదినము

నలభై నిమిషాలు నడిచివెళ్తుంటే 

తెలుస్తుంది 

బ్రహ్మమేమిటో, ఆనందమేమిటో, అద్వైతమంటే 

ఏమిటో - అది కొందరికే సాధ్యం 

ఆచర్య శ్రీ రామ శర్మ, రాజయోగి  

నరేంద్ర, పద్మాకర్ లాంటి వాళ్ళకి -

నాలాంటి వాళ్ళు ప్రకృతి ఒడిలో 

ఓలలాడుతూ 

అష్టమూర్తిని ధ్యానిస్తూ …  అత్రి Copyright 2026 by the author

 

Pious Prayers (Poem)

Pious Prayers

Aren’t these pious prayers?
Not earnest enough?
The little sparrow
Had to crawl underneath the car
For a lick of freshly made cool water
Below the a/c compressor

Yesterday early morning
A thirsty crow was
Tapping the skylights,
The translucent convex domes
For cool condensed mist drops
A tiny few at most!

In desperation the neighborhood crows

Are nibbling the Staghorn sumac cone

Fruit drupes even in the summer -

Normally reserved for the hard winters

The stream, near the cataract
That too has dried up
Hardly there is a trickle

You see flow only after persistent drizzles
In the lean summer months
Now you see no current –
And
I miss the music of our
Backyard falls, its meditative murmurings
A soothing
Hushed lovers’ conversation in the night

My great grand father would
Have performed yagnas – on command he could 
Call the benevolent Indra – Prajnanya
My maternal grand father too 
Was a simple, self effacing reader of the
Vedas – that perennial fountain of dharma (धर्म)
No, not the misinterpreted phrase “dhamma/damma”
Found in modern dictionaries or eastern religious treatises 
Outlined in a foreign European tongue - English

Dharma as instructed in the three Vedas
The original mode of human conduct -
It is meant to uplift one and all beings (souls)
And gently guide them towards
Real enlightenment; that was
Way before the modern Maslow!

Now, with a few Sanskrit phrases
I can utter, say a bit haltingly
Prayers to the thirty three crores (of) gods
For a simple cool summer shower
I need them for my Gardenia flowers,
Lawn, sacred Basil (Tulasi),
And Okras

The local farmers too need them
For sweet corn and vegetable crops
The deer, birds, and playful squirrels
Rabbits too need them
A respite from the hot dry wind
Won’t you bless us with
A silky carpet of Jasmines and Dianthus
Govinda?
Your name itself is – Narayana
You seem to float on
A veritable ocean of fresh water

(Dedicated to all the weary drought stricken people walking miles for a pitcher of fresh water across continents. This poem was originally penned in northeast US during a long dry spell in summer. It resonates and finds relevance in the very dry arid regions of Rajasthan, south India, and even the coastal Andhra. And many other dry regions all over the world.) Copyright 2025 by the author

Autumn's Debut (English Translation of శిశిరాగమనము)

Autumn's Debut

It’s coming, the Fall

Coming slowly without a stir

Still her brother isn’t ready

With flute, horn, and the brass

Nor is the caravan of colors ready

Yet

Poets like me

Have seen, nay observed

Your beauties, your enchanting grace

Your shy glances

Yesterday

While returning from the walk

Noticed two tiny silky feathers –

Have the migratory birds started already?

One red maple tree

Turned rouge all over

Won’t it? After all her lover has

Kissed, kissed underneath the blanket

Through the long chilly night

Come my darling

My Gandharva maiden

Blossomed in my sweet dreams

How lucky! What a fortune

No, I don’t feel bad

Missing the Blue Jay of Godavari

Yesterday

A Blue Bird cooed looking at me –

It was calling with a graceful crown

Calling his affectionate mate

“Ti, titi, titi”

Where have they all gone?

All our black, gray, and red

Bushy squirrels?

Now they’re munching on the walnuts

Screeching in between. I too teased

Them with my calls giving ‘em company

No, I did not see the Annapurna peak

Did not climb the Nanga-parbat

Did not fly to the Kailas

All the beauties and majestic graces

Came to me. Now for the coming Dussera

Mums, colorful chrysanthemums would be everywhere

Come, my nature maiden – I’ll decorate you

From head to toe, beckon your brother

The Northern Wind

Let him rise from the North Pole

I’ll pull out my Kashmir shawl

And the tufted woolen cap!

© 2016 అత్రి

(The original Telugu poem was penned on September 15, 2016. September 22nd is the official start of autumn here.)