Raagmala

Miyan Malhar:
An abiding ecstasy,
Massive and composed,
Abandons man to some godlike element,
Harnessing clouds with reins of will.

Jaunpuri:
An ethereal sadness grips a morning
That smells like no other
And emanates the radiance
Of brimming hearts and childhood haunts –
The bittersweet of growing up.

Sarang:
Resting in a banyan’s shade,
A wanderer fancies fickle nature
As being more or less serene –
And moves Mara to tears.

Shankara:
Frankincense in the night’s distance
From a solitary temple
Where pundits keep all lamps lit,
To reminisce charms of whimsical Shiva.

Jaijaivanti:
Earthy passion in the cradle of perfect joy –
A youth stands reconciled,
And cannot help but fade in paeans
To that one pretty thought in life.

Gunkali:
The name of God at night’s final hour –
A solemn plaint without reproach,
A calm devotion etched in stone.

Ramkali:
Veneration for divine handiwork
Pregnant with Himalayan strains –
A somber myth of pagan creation
Interspersed with charming days of rest.

Multani:
The sun peeps through
A cave and engenders mysteries
Where all lost relics of understanding
Are sheltered from sultry incandescence.

Hamir:
Could night perhaps churn out
Such sweet incessant tunes that just
Turn around like lovers for a last, last kiss,
And make the same little confession
In iridescent, winning ways?

Shree:
A sundown half past cares
With trees ensnared in dusky wisps –
Where grim reflections beyond fear
Wrangle with the demonic
And make new friends.

Aiman:
An old songster breaks into
Love’s undying night tale
That everyone has heard before
And cares to listen still.

Desi:
A song that sings its own soil,
Always unaware,
Always molting and returning
To its fashioning clay.