Autumn landscape

A poem inspired by this year's autumn fall. I wanted to publish this poem on 20th Nov, but couldn't make it. It was such a pain to carry the poem in head without penning it down. It feels like floating in air when I managed to publish it finally. You can also hear this poem read by me in my YouTube channel mmanoba. The video is also found below the poem.

Autumn Landscape

My mind on mutiny of melodious muteness

Pathetic painful moronic oxymoron

Whistles she along with radio singer

Cheerful chauffeuse, drives me to her chateau

Backseat Oskar meditates on scenes pass by

Trains and station fade behind him

Serpentine roads and leaves strewn landscapes

Brumous fog or heavenly drizzle, hard to gauge

A gentleman on curly horse salutes us warmly

Passing him, changes she the gear

Stands there a golden couple of good old chateau

Kisses of welcome and knuckle crushing handshake

A decor of taste, surprise, awe and charm

Inches of them speak of her, her fondness, intellect

Every time I visit them, stand I with my eyes widened

Shameless pride in her proud father’s eyes

She the treasure not his chateau

Breakfast ready, drags she me to her terrace garden

Oskar leads us to the greenhouse, tail dancing

Her treasured orchidarium and my beloved orchids

Varieties of them and a little pond of wonder

Lotus and lily, pinks, yellows and whites

My blue lotus too, no Victoria, ask I, smiles she killingly

Bees, honey and bumble, ply between nectaries and hives

Hives assembled half in rest out, her prudent pick

Blows she on glass and wipes the vapor film

Scenic beauty rushes in yanking my breath away

Rising cliffs, rolling slopes, thick woods, green blanket under

Merry pair of cooing doves dives down and then jives up

My silent prayer, a heinous hope for a queerish pair

Falling crimson leaves attempt to imitate them

Her saddened heavy sigh mends the mist curtain

Her love for tea and her garden trees of autumn fall

Pin oak, golden maple, liquidambar, lists she crazily

Japanese persimmon, maple, Chinese pistache, tallow

Claret, golden ash, scarlet oak and then maidenhair

The color of your hair, my Xavi’s too, slips my tongue

Freezes her smile, gloomy stains across her face

Asks she my pardon rectifying her mien

Feeling remorse take I her supple hand

Longs she the touch lasts longer, for unknown eternity

What is on today’s menu, change I the subject

Alice in wonderland and little fishing, replies she gleamingly

Oskar jerks hearing the very word, shrills, tail goes crazy

Mushroom hunt, trout fishing, no bad menu for German Hund

Oskar the great, grand champion of black truffle hunt

Bamboo pannier, tools inside, angler’s angle, turf creel

Hardened slushy wild wood windy trails

Glued to it, red leaves, deep yellow, rotting brown

Myriad shapes, size, nature’s hand at mosaic art

Tranquil clear lakes, leaves littered ponds

Fallen fresh leaves decay drown down, rejuvenate surface

Broth like hot steam on surface, water fowls paddle, V behind

Riot of colors of autumn landscape, slothful sun above as well

Serenity bleeds, a distant remote shot injures stillness

Terrified flutterings of assorted wings, twice and again a gunfire

A Bean-shidh croons, darling bird’s plume in her hands

Frightened eyes, pounding soul, female of merry pair returns solo

Tragic numbness clogs up throats, tireless Oskar flirts with hares

Nature’s bounty basket full, ample catch of singing brooks

String of caterpillars, one behind other, journey to pupal homes

Autumn’s treasures in timber boats, gold leaves, dew diamonds

Scarlet leaves, rubies, mossy branches, worthy emeralds

Standing guard, coots and ducks, renounce posts now and then

Distant swan pair at love making, Oskar guides promenade back

Against her head, wishes she my shoulder, fogy veil falls heavy

The chateau manifests mightily, drifting amidst paradise mist

The chateau of delicious souvenirs, where I met Xavi first

Her grand aunt’s uncle’s only great-grandchild

The day I gifted them the love of Oskar, then pup

The chateau, it’s every bricks, I love, yes, every bricks

Every bricks but her adored violin and a photo by it

An image of mine trapped frozen in, shreds my heart, zillion cuts

Every time, her violin ends solo cries, theaters stand applauding

Few with bleary eyes, most with runny nose

No just music, she adept at, kitchen too her orchestral ground

Regal diné lies ahead, vin jaune, Beaujolais and dirty jokes

A week or so more to go

Far from Xavi, in bosom of a family, my friend of childhood

A splendid fair lady, researching net on Victoria lilies

Khongorzul - Mongolian traditional music - The Long Song tradition

[Before starting, this was a strange journey. Of course, music is a strange journey.

Every thing started with the song number “Kora Kagaz Tha Yeh Man Mera” in the Hindi film Aradhana (1969). The song starts with a flute like music, which I mistook for the strong nasal sounding flute, which has a very important place in North-East Indian states, famously called the seven sisters of the North-East. The flute could be a derivative of chinese Dizi, sometimes called Di or Hengdi or its other variants.

It was the time when DoorDarshan (public television broadcaster of India) was bringing amazing sights and sounds from all over India and SAARC countries and sometimes occasional Iranian and Chinese movies. This particular strong nasal sounding flute made me to love North-East India, China and their respective musical traditions. This is the same flute variety introduced me Nawang Khechog, the great Tibetan flautist, who came to Dharmashala, India along with Dalai Lama, and it is he who made me to love Tibet and Ladakh and their traditional musics.

So, what is the story all about? Well, when I first heard Khongorzul singing, her voice immediately brought the pictures of vast never-ending deep plains, a typical geographical wonders of Mongolia and the Himalayan sacred kingdoms, cold deserts. Her voice, like the Ladakhis’ and Tibetans’, belongs to great plains. It is unique! And found nowhere in the world.]

Khongorzul Ganbaatar is a singer from Mongolia. Her tradition is long song (Mongolian: Уртын дуу, Urtyn duu, sounds like OOr tin DOO) traditional songs. Since, Mongolia has deep vast plains and people shepherding on the back of horses needed a very good way of communication as well as entertainment, they developed this long song tradition.

They are called long songs not because the songs are long, but mainly because each syllable of the text is extended and stretched for longer duration. But in some cases they are indeed long. It is developed and evolved in this way for entertainment along long journeys on vast plains. A four minute song may only consist merely ten words. The long song tradition is declared by UNESCO as one of the Masterpiece of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity.

But the beauty is the majestic voice of Mongolian people, like Khongorzul. To penetrate the deep plains or simply because one can sing at one’s own will since the mighty plains absorb any sound no matter how loud it is, the voice turns into something unique, unique in a sense it does reach not only the other end of the plain but perhaps even the heavens.

I first heard her singing in the album When Strangers Meet by Silk Road Ensemble founded by Yo-Yo Ma. My goodness, it not only cuts deep through the vast plains, but also pierces one’s soul bringing tears of joy. Yes Khongorzul, on hearing your country's music I started to love Mongolia.

Thanks Yo-Yo Ma for introducing this majestic voice and for the initiative of Silk Road Project. Let the Strangers Meet and exchange knowledge and culture.

Mongolian Traditional Music - The Long Song (Yo-Yo Ma and Khongorzul)

Urtin Duu (Khongorzul)

Khongorzul - Song for a Mother (A masterpiece of it's own kind! Don't miss it.)