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1 " From my body, take earth and sprinkle on barren landsFrom my body, take water and bestrew the desert with streamsFrom my body, take the sky and build roofs for the homelessFrom my body, take air and purify the breath of factoriesFrom my body, take fire, your heart is frightfully cold- Geet ChaturvediTranslated by Anita Gopalan "
― Geet Chaturvedi , The Memory of Now
2 " Downstairs I left a candle burningIn its light I'll read a few lines when I returnBy the time I returned the candle had burned outThose few lines had faded like innocenceYou walk with meThe way moon walks along with a child sitting in a train windowI stood in the balcony one dayWaved a handkerchief toward the skyThose who have gone without saying their goodbyesWill recognize it even from farIn my handkerchief they have left behind their tearsThe way early humans left behind their etchings on cave wallsLyotard said, every sentence is a nowNo. Actually it's a memory of nowEvery memory is a poemIn our books, the count of the unwritten poems is so much more- Geet ChaturvediTranslated by Anita Gopalan "
3 " I threw my poemsin the oceanthe paper rottedbut poems swimalong with little fishes on the ocean floor.- Geet Chaturvedi,Translated by Anita Gopalan "
4 " What I writeis water dripping from a child’s cupped hands.- Geet ChaturvediTranslated by Anita Gopalan "
5 " The world is rapt by the sound of harsh musicand you a soft silence woven in my touch.- Geet ChaturvediTranslated by Anita Gopalan "
6 " The sea is a lover, most forgiving. Every moment he forgives the waves receding from him and includes them again into him. Love is to let go. Love is also to accept the ones who have returned.Geet ChaturvediTranslated by Anita Gopalan "
7 " You are in love with green,You translate every scene into greenI am in love with you,I translate every scene into youYour blindness is the colour green,My blindness is coloured you.- Geet Chaturvedi,Translated by Anita Gopalan "
8 " The world was two, like your breastsThe world was also three, like your eyesThe world was countless, like your thoughtsI was alone, like the tang of your tearI was alone, like the lone mole on your foreheadI remained aloneDespite living in a world that was countless.- Geet Chaturvedi,Translated by Anita Gopalan "