गीली मिट्टी की सोंधी खुशबू से
एक याद चली आती है
भीगती थी जब पानी में
वो बरसात याद आती है
भूल जाती छत्री जानबूझकर
और भीगते घर आती थी
चाय की चुसकी लेते जो मुस्कान छुपाती
वो शरारत याद आती है
ज़माना था वो रेडियो का
गानों की भी बरसात होती थी
बारिश और गीत में जो होती जुगलबंदी
वो मधुर रात याद आती है
Transliteration:
Geeli mitti ki sondhi khushboo se
Ek yaad chali aati hai
Bheegti thi jab paani mein
Wo barsaat yaad aati hai
Bhool jaati chatri jaanboojhkar
Aur bheegte ghar aati thi
Chai ki chuski lete jo muskaan chupati
Wo shararat yaad aati hai
Zamana tha wo radio ka
Gaanon ki bhi barsaat hoti thi
Barish aur geet mein jo hoti jugalbandi
Wo madhur raat yaad aati hai
Translation:
With the sweet fragrance of wet mud
A memory comes forth
When I used to get wet
Memory of that rain comes forth
Would forget the umbrella purposely
And would reach home drenched
Hiding the smile behind the sips of tea
Memory of that mischief comes forth
It was the era of radio
There would be a downpour of songs too
When rains and songs joined in a duet
Memory of that melodious night comes forth
* * *
It back wonderful memories if summer afternoons sitting g in the porch and watching the puddles on the floor .and a book in my hands .and the radio on but I confess I never listened to Hindi but English music .when I was growing up but learnt to appreciate Indian music only after I came to the USA but I love the old songs in Hindi music .
Thanks for appreciating Archana. It was always old Hindi film songs for me. Those were the carefree days when we could enjoy music and rain for a longer duration. ☺
Baarish kay khubsoorat mausam may kyaa na kyaa yaadein aati hai – Durgaji, your poem evoked such lovely memories of monsoons in India. the summers have to be experienced for the rains to be truly appreciated. The genuine excuse for chai & pakoras that have a special appeal only in the rainy season. Ahhh..I love it. Thanks for bringing it all back while I sizzle in a summer heat in the Midwest USA.
Thanks Lalita. Monsoons have that special appeal and the excuse to pop in something hot and spicy is the utmost essential. And the memories of those joyous days are numerous. Quite unforgettable. ☺
Beautifully, evocative poem. I was in Mumbai during the monsoons after ages, and …
Arson baad woh “Geeli mitti ki sondhi khushboo se” mulaqat phir huyi iss baar.
Wahi bachpan ki khidki se haath nikalkar baarish ki boondon ko pakadne mein nakaam phir huyi iss baar.
Lekin badalte samay ne dikhaya ki yaadon ke pitare ke saamne haqiqat feeki pad jaati hai.
Thanks Ruchi. Well said. Yaadon ke pitare ke saamne haqeeqat ki koi jagah nahin hai.
I grew up in Mumbai and I am a deewani of Mumbai rains. It’s been decades since I visited, but those memories of rain-filled school and college days keep frolicking back every monsoon.
your poem brought such sweet memories Durga di.. haha chatri ghar pe chor dena.. kya zamaana tha wo.. In Seattle it rains often.. I love it.. but its usually cold and I don’t feel like getting wet.. but someday day when its warm and it rains.. will forget my chatri home..
Hi Rhea. Thanks. Ha ha. That chatri bhooljana would be a conscious decision because I knew I would fall sick soon after. But really what fun. I can’t afford to do that anymore but hope you do get to do it. ☺
Durga di , I read the English version of the poem ( am sure the Hindi version is much better) . it did bring back a lot of memories .
Thanks Dawn. Glad you liked it in English. I try to keep the translations as close to the original as I can. Rain does bring many memories, including this Marathi rhyme. Yere yere pausa, tula deto paisa, paisa zhala khota, pavus ala motha, ?
barsaat… waited to read the poem when the mood was right and of course so enjoyed it. that rain, durga, the one you speak of, i hope it falls for someone somewhere. remembered getting drenched in the full, lush rains of assam, of delhi. my mother always said, after getting wet in the rain we must have a “proper” bath quickly, or else we’d fall sick. my father’s theory (i think) was, we had to be given something warm to drink. not chai… brandy. so tiny thimbles of brandy in hand, three of us siblings sitting in a bathtub in our underwear, a permanent image stuck in my head. beautiful poem. the rain, the songs, the sneakily getting soaked. i still like walking in a drizzle.
Thanks Indi. Very happy you enjoyed it. What a memory! Somehow memories with rain always so special. I do miss those rainy school days. Many many memories. Though I can’t risk getting drenched now, but yes, a little drizzle I enjoy too. 🙂