Aaditya Bajpai

  • Asylum

    Whenever I look at a sunflower

    it’d remind me of you. 

    Sunflowers are metaphors for 

    the people around whom you feel alive. 

    I have an open field inside of me

    wherein the wind echoes your laugh.

    The open field has always been filled

    with roses, that your presence has watered.

    If this is what the poets call love, then I’ve

    laced far too many notebooks with the idea of you.

    How everything eventually is about you?

    How sometimes i go sleepless at nights, but then

    How I yearn to sleep a little bit more

    because you came into my dreams.

    How I grieve when I am not close to you?

    But then what is grief, if not love persevering.

    What is grief, if not love with no place to go,

    that corners in your eyes, and 

    in the hollow part of your chest?

    What is love, if not the poem 

    scracthed on the walls of my throat.

    How I’d want to linger near the door

    uncomfortably, rather than leaving.

    How I’d want you to forget your scarf

    and come back later, to find it. 

    What is love, if not everything that I feel for you?

    For it was when you allowed me to enter

    your world, when I was scared of mine. 

    Toh aakhir Kaha chala hai man ka rasta? 

    Tumhare paas. 

    -aaditya.

  • Radha’s Plight

    “O woman with desire, place on this patch of flower-strewn floor your lotus foot, And let your foot through beauty win, To me who am the Lord of All, O be attached, now always yours”

    Krishna to Radha

    When Krishna left for Mathura, the mind of Srimati Radharani was completely disrupted. She became almost mad because of the extreme separation from Krishna and experienced great mental pain and agitation, which caused Her to drown in various sorts of mental speculation in the river of anxiety.

    She (Radharani) thought, ‘Now I am going to die, and when I die, Kṛṣṇa will surely come back to see Me again. But when He hears of My death from the people of Vṛndāvana, He will certainly be very unhappy. Therefore I shall not die.’

    -Caitanya Caritamrta, Antya lila 1.53- Srila Prabhupada’s Purport

    Describing the love in madness (Unmāda) of Srimati Radharani, Uddhava, after returning to Mathura from Vrindavana, spoke to Krishna as follows

    bhramati bhavana-garbhe nirnimittaṁ hasantī prathayati tava vārtāṁ cetanācetaneṣu

    luṭhati ca bhuvi rādhā kampitāṅgī murāre viṣama-viraha-khedodgāri-vibhrānta-cittā

    Uddhava said to Lord Kṛṣṇa, “My dear Kṛṣṇa, all the gopīs are so afflicted by Your absence that they have become almost mad. O Murāri, at home Śrīmatī Rādhārāṇī laughs unnecessarily and, like a madwoman, inquires about You from every entity without distinction, even from the stones. She rolls on the ground, unable to bear the agony of Your absence.” – Sri Ujjvala Nilamani 15.175

    Radharani would madly talk (Pralāpa) as follows

    kva nanda-kula-candramāḥ kva śikhi-candra-kālaṅkṛtiḥ kva mandra-muralī-ravaḥ kva nu surendra-nīla-dyutiḥ
    kva rāsa-rasa-tāṇḍavī kva sakhi jīva-rakṣauṣadhir nidhir mama suhṛttamaḥ kva tava hanta hā dhig vidhiḥ

    My dear friend, where is Kṛṣṇa, who is like the moon rising from the ocean of Mahārāja Nanda’s dynasty? Where is Kṛṣṇa, His head decorated with a peacock feather? Where is He? Where is Kṛṣṇa, whose flute produces such a deep sound? Oh, where is Kṛṣṇa, whose bodily luster is like the luster of the blue indranīla jewel? Where is Kṛṣṇa, who is so expert in rāsa dancing? Oh, where is He, who can save My life? Kindly tell Me where to find Kṛṣṇa, the treasure of My life and best of My friends. Feeling separation from Him, I hereby condemn Providence, the shaper of My destiny.-Lalita-Madhava 3.25

    Radharani won’t eat anything. Even sleep would desert Her. Thus, She had become very thin (Tānava). Uddhava thus describes Her condition to Krishna as follows

    udañcad-vaktrāmbhoruha-vikṛtir antaḥ-kulaṣitā sadāhārābhāva-glapita-kuca-kokā yadu-pate
    viśuṣyantī rādhā tava viraha-tāpād anu-dinaṁ nidāghe kuly eva kraśima-paripākaṁ prathayati

    Consider the condition of the gopīs! Śrīmatī Rādhārāṇī especially is in a very painful condition because of separation from You. She has grown skinny, and Her bodily lustre is almost gone. Her heart is immersed in pain, and because She has given up eating, Her breasts have become black, as if diseased. Because of separation from You, all the gopīs, especially Rādhārāṇī, appear like dried-up water holes under the scorching heat of the sun. -Sri Ujjvala Nilamani 15.171

    Observing the death-like condition of Srimati Radharani, Lalita Sakhi, wrote a strong letter to Krishna and chastised Him for staying in Mathura. She thus wrote as follows

    aye rāsa-krīḍā-rasika mama sakhyaṁ nava-navā purā baddhā yena praṇaya-laharī hanta gahanā
    sa cen muktāpekṣas tvam asi dhig imāṁ tūla-śakalaṁ yad etasyā nāsā-nihitam idam adyāpi calati

    Simply by dancing in the circle of the rāsa dance, You attracted Śrīmatī Rādhārāṇī’s love. Why are You now so indifferent to my dear friend Rādhārāṇī? She is lying nearly unconscious, thinking of Your pastimes. I shall determine whether She is alive by putting a cotton swab under Her nostrils, and if She is still living, I shall chastise Her.-Hamsa-duta [96]

    Being greatly afflicted by the pain of separation from Krishna, Srimati Radharani, as if diseased, said to Lalita Sakhi as follows

    uttāpī puṭa-pākato ’pi garala-grāmād api kṣobhaṇo dambholer api duḥsahaḥ kaṭur alaṁ hṛn-magna-śūlyād api
    tīvraḥ prauḍha-visūcikāni cayato ’py uccair mamāyaṁ balī marmāṇy adya bhinatti gokula-pater viśleṣa-janmā jvaraḥ

    My dear Lalita, I cannot bear suffering the fever of separation from Kṛṣṇa, nor can I explain it to you. It is something like gold melting in an earthen pot. This fever produces more distress than poison, it is more piercing than Indra’s thunderbolt, more sharp than a spear plunged into the heart, and more horrifying than the last stage of cholera.- Lalita Madhava 3.24

    When Radharani was feeling separation from Krishna, She would constantly chant Hare Krishna Mahamantra. Chanting of Mahamantra was Her only resort.

    ekadā kṛṣṇa-virahād dhyāyantī priya-saṅgamam |

    mano-bāṣpa-nirāsārthaṁ jalpatīdaṁ muhur muhuḥ ||

    hare kṛṣṇa hare kṛṣṇa kṛṣṇa kṛṣṇa hare hare |

    hare rāma hare rāma rāma rāma hare hare ||

    Śrī Rādhā was feeling the pain of separation from Kṛṣṇa and was meditating on the reunion with Him. In order to rid Herself of the agony of separation She felt in His absence, She repeatedly began to chant the mahā-mantra: Hare Kṛṣṇa, Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare/ Hare Rāma, Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare.

    -Quoted in Sri-Harinamartha-ratna-dipika, Srila Raghunatha Dasa Goswami

    When Srimati Radharani would faint, all the other gopis would chant the Hare Krishna Mahamantra in Her ears and would revive Her.

  • The Art of Letting Go

    Loving someone dearly is what we do the best.

    Probably better than breathing, we love.

    We cling close to it, aware that

    we in no way can control it.

    Everything seems to be wonderful, 

    Filled with colours, rainbows and lights.

    We want to stay close, and keep them close.

    We want to hold them, and take them home.

    Touching of toes, meeting of lips,

    Making love with your every bit.

    Beginning the days with their name

    And wanting to end the same with their breath.

    Adamant and ignorant of the fact that,

    All of it is just holding roses,

    until the thorns press against your fingers.

    Letting go is an art of necessity.

    We do not want it, but we have to master it.

    It wasn’t until I saw in her eyes, that

    irrespective of what I feel, it will never be the same for her.

    Even Stephen King once said, that sometimes in life

    You have to just let the bird go, for

    You know it’s not meant to be caged.

    When those thorns press so hard,

    That you realise that its time to let go,

    For it just means that we are all humans

    Incapable of holding on to everything,

    specially when it hurts the most.

    The only barrier to letting go is hope,

    We hope that maybe something somehow will work out,

    But it never does. It’s always the thorns over the roses.

    So, in the end, the whole of loving someone, 

    Becomes an act of letting go.

    So, take you moment, and take you time,

    And bid that farewell with all your heart.

    -aaditya

  • DECEMBER

    It’s the 17th of December, 6:05 pm,

    exactly two months since I last wrote to you.

    Have you ever yearned for something

    that wasn’t even yours to begin with?

    Because I know I have been lost, since so 

    long, in something, in you?

    The leaves of autumn have fallen dead, and

    here I am wanting to have an orange with you.

    This winter, it tells me, to finally stand up to you

    and tell you that I am so much in love with you.

    Its like even the ghost in my closet,

    is screaming to let it all out. 

    But it’s you we are talking about, 

    in front whom I am nothing but an idle candle,

    burning in its own flame, and 

    standing still nevertheless.

    My heart skips a beat and my world stops

    as my gaze takes in the sight of her stunning form,

    clad in her kurti and a dupatta.

    My eyes flicker my heart flutters,

    as I gaze upon the goddess of perfection.

    But it’s December, the month of letting go.

    December holds so much,

    the end of best times, and

    closure for all that was lost.

    A month so hopeful, yet

    carries heaviness in its frost.

    Maybe this time, I’ll say it all too.

    On Christmas’ eve, I’ll meet you at the golden hour,

    standing hopefully, you’ll be in my sight, 

    and, I’ll give you the yellow flower.

    Then? i’ll leave it to december

    to teach me that new beginnings,

    don’t really require new calendars. 

    Because I know, it’s always you.

    I’ll spend my eternity, in 

    perfecting the subtle art of loving you. 

    Today, tomorrow and the day after,

    every bit of my love, will be about you.

    -aadi.

  • i waited, you didn’t come

    The leaves have started turning to

    shades of yellow, orange and red.

    October has finally arrived.

    They say that the turning of colours

    Is to protect the leaves from cold temperatures.

    It’s October 6 today, and I am writing this to you.

    The evening today is nice and warm,

    Though it’s about to turn cold.

    I came nearby the lake we used to visit,

    Walked a bit, and even left a note 

    for you to read, between the pages of your notebook.

    The note said, “meet me by the lakeside, we will sit and talk”.

    The lake was still today, and had turned

    Orange, as if the sun was drowning in it.

    The sky was still alive, while I waited for you.

    I asked myself today,

    Did you ever want to go far away ? Where would you go?

    But I couldn’t find an answer, so I waited for you to give me one.

    “Aaj walk Karne chalen? Shaam ko, beside the lake?”, the note said.

    It was getting dark, as 2 hours had passed.

    I still wanted the answer, and I wanted you there.

    I kept walking and talking to the sun.

    It didn’t last long, as the sun finally rested in the lake.

    It was getting dark, and I kept waiting. 

    Maybe the note was misplaced,

    The wind was strong today.

    And a lot many reasons I gave myself

    to hold myself from crying.

    “I will wait some other day”, I said to myself.

    What happened today?

    I waited, you didn’t come.

    -aadi.

  • A Time Called You – Review

    “A Time Called You”

    It happens very often that we find a show or movie to be of such quality that it remains with us forever. However, seldom do we find something that becomes a part of us. “A Time Called You” is that ‘seldom do we find show’ and I can’t find any words to describe how I feel right now.

    I did think at the beginning that this would be good because again it’s a time travel romance drama, that too with Ahn Hyo-seop and Jeon Yeob-been, in any way the show would have been a hit. But I never expected this show to be this good with an entirely new and interesting plot. That’s enough about the plot. I won’t say anything further in order to not spoil it for you.

    The show, the characters and their story, it all became a part of me. I felt I was there too, watching them, enjoying with them, and feeling every other emotion that they felt. Every episode had me on the edge of my seat, thinking I had it all figured out, only to be surprised by unexpected twists and turns. I had to pay close attention because of the back-and-forth storytelling, but it was worth it. Yeo Been’s performance was outstanding, especially in how she portrayed the two different characters. The cinematography was breathtaking start to end and the colour pallete was aesthetically eye pleasing.

    All in all, A Time Called You is an incredible drama and it is very hard to express it in words, no review can make you feel how good this drama is, you have to watch this drama to feel the emotions. It constantly surprises you and keeps you on the edge of your seat. I tried to predict what would happen, but the story always had unexpected twists. The number of surprises in this drama is thrilling, and I couldn’t stop watching it.

    After watching it you will know why I am going all crazy over this. You will in know everything, in a time called you.

  • From June to December: Summer Villanelle by Wendy Cope

    You know exactly what to do—
    Your kiss, your fingers on my thigh—
    I think of little else but you.

    It’s bliss to have a lover who,
    Touching one shoulder, makes me sigh—
    You know exactly what to do.

    You make me happy through and through,
    The way the sun lights up the sky—
    I think of little else but you.

    I hardly sleep—an hour or two;
    I can’t eat much and this is why—
    You know exactly what to do.

    The movie in my mind is blue—
    As June runs into warm July
    I think of little else but you.

    But is it love? And is it true?
    Who cares? This much I can’t deny:
    You know exactly what to do;

    I think of little else but you.

    -Wendy Cope

  • The Poem is YOU

    I’ve a lot of feeling for you. You’re kind.
    We’ll kiss, grow old, walk around.
    Light months will fly over us
    Like snowy stars.

    In that moment I saw you wandering the streets, enjoying life so endearingly, and I fell in love. The feeling was unknown, yet it had a friendly odour. Something which you have never known, still you want to befriend it, nevertheless.

    It was my love for you that I envied the winds for I wish I were the wind, so I could touch you softly on your skin, whisper sweet things in your ear, and give you the blanket of my love.

    This world is such a chaotic place. A sphere of unexpressed emotions and emoted sentiments. And I pity the ones who don’t get to see what all love can bring to you. Like it did to me.

    The power of love is astonishing. I have seen people heal just because they were in love. It’s surprising how far can a human heart go to protect itself and the ones it loves. And my love is You. I can feel you everywhere, for you have taken over every corner of my heart.

    It was when I met you, I didn’t feel so lost or aimless. Because even if there was nothing else for me, it felt like loving you was what I was made for, and it didn’t matter what anyone thought of me, and it didn’t matter if I didn’t have any other big plans for myself, as long as I got to love you.

    Someday when then scenery becomes a memory, what would I want to remember? I want to remember you, from now on, always and forever.

    A hundred years from now, and you’d still find me engaged in the subtle art of loving you. I’lI be writing poetry, and it’ll be about you everyday. For what good is poetry if it’s not about you?

    -aaditya.

    The Poem is YOU

  • Perspective

    The romanticism of orange flowers can be characterized by the confluence of a multiplicity of evocative features. This chromatic and olfactory combination is imbued with a subtlety and richness that is unparalleled in its ability to evoke a sense of longing and desire.

    The hue of orange is inherently linked to warmth, vitality, and dynamism. It is a hue that is undeniably uplifting, evocative of the sun and the fertile earth. The allure of orange flowers is further enhanced by their delicate, intricate structures. The petals are intricately arranged in a symmetrical and harmonious fashion, creating an organic geometry that is both mesmerizing and seductive. When viewed from a distance, the flowers appear as a vibrant orange blur, an ethereal presence that seems to glow with an inner radiance.

    However, if one looks at this picture closely then the beauty of the orange flowers might be overlooked by the human race for their eyes shall be focussed on the barren lands behind. The juxtaposition of the orange flowers amidst the dry, barren lands creates a striking visual dichotomy. The vibrant hue of the blossoms seems almost surreal against the dull and lifeless landscape. It is as if nature itself is making a bold statement, asserting its resilience and determination to survive. The flowers’ delicate petals sway in the unrelenting heat, a reminder of the fragility of life, yet also of its tenacity. It is a scene of contrasts, of beauty amidst decay, of hope amidst despair. The orange flowers serve as a beacon of light in the darkness, a small but powerful symbol of nature’s ability to endure and flourish against all odds.

    In the presence of the orange flowers amidst the barren land, human tendencies are often marked by a desire to assign purpose to their existence. Questions arise, such as “what is the point of these flowers in such a desolate landscape?” This inclination towards rationalization can obscure the inherent beauty of the scene and reduce it to mere functionality. It is as if we seek to impose our own sense of order onto the natural world, to explain away the inexplicable. Yet the orange flowers defy such narrow-minded thinking, existing simply because they can, a testament to the whims of nature and the beauty that arises from its unfettered expression. In a world increasingly defined by human intervention and control, the orange flowers serve as a reminder of the intrinsic value of the natural world and the importance of embracing the beauty that arises from its inherent chaos.

    The orange flowers’ mere presence in a barren landscape subverts the human impulse to impose order and rationality, instead offering a glimpse into the unpredictable, yet exquisite, manifestations of the natural world. It is a display of nature’s raw, unbridled power, a force that has no need for human rationalization or purpose. Rather, it is an entity that is self-sufficient, infinitely complex, and wholly deserving of appreciation in its own right.

    “Amidst the barren lands, some orange in flowers blooms,

    personifying a flicker of hope in the desolate gloom.

    The vibrant hue, acting as a beacon of life

    in the midst of an arid terrain, existing as a

    testament to nature’s resilience, despite the parched pain.

    Each petal, a brushstroke of colour on a canvas of dust and sand,

    a masterpiece of contrast, the perfect blend of desolation and grand.

    For even in the bleakest of landscapes, life finds a way,

    to bloom and thrive, to shine and stay.”

    –aaditya

    Perspective
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