Wednesday, June 18, 2008

The Bohemian Bird

The Bohemian Bird

There was once a Bohemian Bird,
With her blue immaculate as seas,
She flocked with feathers of many others,
And met cordially with the bees.

And there she was, the Bohemian Bird,
Blading through the thinning sky,
Reaching to the blazing sun,
And racing with her inner I.

And happily would she, the Bohemian Bird,
Attend to her duties alike stout,
Follow the trail that her family led,
And would bleed to make them proud.

Yet known she was, the Bohemian Bird,
To take the path un-tread,
To appetite even the bitter curd,
To paint grass a fiery red.

As loved can be, the Bohemian Bird,
Would the forest deluge on her,
To wherever the wind soared to dance,
They danced to her fervor.

Like an everyday, the Bohemian Bird,
Paused at the crackling water-fall,
To see the monkeys take the leap,
While gravity slung them like a ball.

“Fascinating”, she mumbled, the Bohemian Bird,
To “trust-walk” at nature’s call,
To be one in the monkey kin,
And jump from the water-fall!

So she gamed, the Bohemian Bird,
With the very delineation of identity,
By jumping abreast with her 4-limbed friends,
Disregarding her ‘heavenly’ individuality.

In vain did she, the Bohemian Bird,
Kept ablaze her endeavor,
Her attempt to blend with the swarm,
One more time…with growing devour.

She evaded the fact, the Bohemian Bird,
That red would not be green,
That she would be herself in sky,
And a minion, lest she preen.

Sadly, the Bohemian Bird,
Despised her avant-garde sane,
That left her feeling a renegade,
That crowned her amongst the mundane.

“Alas!” She reasoned, the Bohemian Bird,
“No good would my prudence do,
If it cannot buy me friends,
If it cannot appreciate their ‘trends’.”

Slice her wings, the Bohemian Bird,
If not grow some limbs.
To emulate the dim-witted, ill-fitted kin,
To jump from your own whims.

Even as she fell, the Bohemian Bird,
Plunging into the murderous sea,
Did neither regret cross her heart,
Nor did her determination flee.

Little did she know, the dead Bohemian Bird,
That the masses gathered to see,
To build a stone and write on it,
“The one we all wanted to be”.


freak Show said...

well.. brillantly portrayed... and i love the ending... "dont we all want to be the Bohemian Bird..."
live a life of a vagabond... enjoy everything wat the world has to offer...
nice to see atleast the Bird for once didnt succumb to the "worldly duties"... and perished following wat she wanted....

Hope u follow same route in life and break the mundanity of this insane world....!!!

Carry on!!!!


Abir Banerjee said...

my god!
what an article
brilliant yaar!
you out-do yourself everytime
how do you come up with such works? i;m still amazed

Nikhil Mathur said...

Really good..
I was just so surprised and amazed at how brilliantly you could manipulate and use the words so well...
Keep up the good work.

Nikhil Mathur said...

And that means I understood less and guessed more... :-)

montek said...

humanGoUs POsT ! gOt BetteR aS I saIleD tHRo iT !:)
wil ReCoMMeNd iT tA aL MORTALS..

hopE WE Al UNLeAsh Nd WiNg D bOhEmIaN bIrD resIdin inside Al d mOrTaLs !
WORdZ .. r WiELDeD qUiTe NiCeLy !
A fEAt!

bUt i sTl fEEL iT cUd hV Been bETTEr ! ;) MAy b I DiDnT wANt iT Ta fInIsH!

god bless!

Scribblers Inc said...

bohemian is a way of life...for me...for you perhaps/perchance.
for a lot of our folk...

Fly on...
Scribblers Inc.

Swayam said...

ahh luved it...wish i cud write poetry that way... :)

Rohit said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Passionate said...

Do I have to say that you write good poetry ??

beautiful :)

Divita said...

thank you folks for comprehending my poem. i'd like to share how this poem came about in the first place. a story crossed my mind in which there was a blue bird who loved to fly and try new things. she had some monkeys as friends whom she would see playing in the water fall. that was the only thing they used to do the whole day. she used to feel apart from the company and hence wanted to emulate them. so she tried to fall from the water fall but whenever she would do, her wings would automatically start working to make her avoid the fall. then one day, after many failures, she decided to chop off her wings. little did she know that it would kill her...
my friend helped me in comprehending this story, and hence came the bohemian bird.

Nikhil Mathur said...

Hey I saw link to my blogs on your blog...
I am so happy.
Just wanted to thank you.

another brick in the wall said...

it's only the loss that helps us value the lost

another brick in the wall said...

and being Bohemian, the bird learns fast.. it learns to let go of the pretense of security that the world surrounds itself with... being alone.. it stands tall

Divita said...

i appreciate a lonesome evening, but lonelyness is what freaks me out.
i hope u sense the irony in the poem - the last line.

another brick in the wall said...

yeah... that's why the first comment was such
loneliness.. i like.. it needs getting used to.. we are so used to this clutter and chaos that goes around that we can't tolerate peace anymore.. then the notion of belonging and being part of this world/society.. once we accept and adapt, we survive.. unfortunately.. we are never ready for the change and most of the times we don't want to bring about a change.. laziness or cowardice? no answers here :S

Divita said...

i don't remember the answer ;) i'm not saying i aint coward or lazy (at times i am both) but now i've had enough lonesome days to appreciate myself :)

another brick in the wall said...

good answer :)