Fiddler on the roof - Do you love me?

(Tevye)
Do you love me?

(Golde)
Do I what?

(Tevye)
Do you love me?

(Golde)
Do I love you?
With our daughters getting married
And this trouble in the town
You're upset, you're worn out
Go inside, go lie down!
Maybe it's indigestion

(Tevye)
"Golde I'm asking you a question..."

Do you love me?

(Golde)
You're a fool

(Tevye)
"I know..."

But do you love me?

(Golde)
Do I love you?
For twenty-five years I've washed your clothes
Cooked your meals, cleaned your house
Given you children, milked the cow
After twenty-five years, why talk about love right now?

(Tevye)
Golde, The first time I met you
Was on our wedding day
I was scared

(Golde)
I was shy

(Tevye)
I was nervous

(Golde)
So was I

(Tevye)
But my father and my mother
Said we'd learn to love each other
And now I'm asking, Golde
Do you love me?

(Golde)
I'm your wife

(Tevye)
"I know..."
But do you love me?

(Golde)
Do I love him?
For twenty-five years I've lived with him
Fought him, starved with him
Twenty-five years my bed is his
If that's not love, what is?

(Tevye)
Then you love me?

(Golde)
I suppose I do

(Tevye)
And I suppose I love you too

(Both)
It change a thing
But even so
After twenty-five years
It's nice to know

Source: http://www.lyricsondemand.com/soundtracks/f/fiddlerontherooflyrics/doyoulovemelyrics.html

Cyrano.

HER touch, her kiss, her glance - what slaves me more?
Those three define my world: with touch I know
The wind alive and merciful; her kiss,
The passion of the earth; her glance, the call
To penetrate the wood most dangerous.
She is a moon who dominates my night,
A pearl whose weight I cannot bear, yet must.
What pleasure to be crushed by the sublime!

Yet why be crushed at all? Oblivion
Is no great boon for winning love. The thing
Known, enjoyed, is the thing approached, unlaced,
Embraced and protected by one's weapon.
Why be at all if not to be the one
To carry off the moon and seize the sun?

Source: http://members.tripod.com/lostsonnetpublishing/page8.html

Only 26 :)

Sit from All You Who Sleep Tonight - Vikram Seth:

Sit, drink your coffee here; your work can wait awhile.
You're twenty-six, and still have some life ahead.
No need for wit; just talk vacuities, and I'll
Reciprocate in kind, or laugh at you instead.

The world is too opaque, distressing and profound.
This twenty minutes' rendezvous will make my day:
To sit here in the sun, with grackles all around,
Staring with beady eyes, and you two feet away.

Glad I found this when am still 26 :)

சொர்க்கம்...(Paradise)

சொர்க்கமே என்றாலும் அது நம் ஊரைப் போல வருமா?
அட எந்நாடு என்றாலும், அது நம் நாட்டுக்கீடாகுமா?
பல தேசம் முழுதும் பேசும் மொழிகள் தமிழ் போல் இனித்திடுமா?

Maybe it is paradise, but does it feel like our own town?
Be it any country, will it equal our own?
A myriad languages spoken in several nations - but none as sweet to us as our own*?*

The original lyrics say Tamil but I take it more to mean our mother tongue :)

From my archives.

Religion, for all the right reasons...

From Life of Pi - Yann Martel

I am a Hindu because of sculptured cones of red kumkum powder and baskets of yellow turmeric nuggets, because of garlands of flowers and pieces of broken coconut, because of the clanging of bells to announce one's arrival to God, because of the whine of the reedy nadaswaram and the beating of drums, because of the patter of bare feet against stone floors down dark corridors pierced by shafts of sunlight, because of the fragrance of incense, because of flames of arati lamps circling in the darkness, because of bhajans being sweetly sung, because of elephants standing around to bless, because of colorful murals telling colorful stories, because of foreheads carrying variously signified, the same word - faith.

From my archives.

From As You Like It - William Shakespeare

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.


Venue: Arboretum, UK
Time: 9 PM
Date: July 9th, 2005
Event: Lexington Shakespeare Festival

Love begins like this...perhaps.

From Vikram Seth's A Suitable Boy (no, I definitely cannot write like this :)

She did not know the first thing about cricket – even Pran’s enthusiasm had not affected her at all – but she was drowsily entranced by the sight of Kabir, dressed completely in white, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, capless and with ruffled hair, running in to bowl – or standing at the crease wielding his bat with what seemed like easy skill….The sound of a bat on ball, the rustle of a slight breeze in the bamboo, the twittering of a few sparrows, the calls of a couple of mynas, and above all, the sound of the young men’s easy laughter and indistinct conversation all combined to make her almost oblivious of herself.

Stolen from my archives - a glimpse from A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth.

The Puppeteer.

நாயகன் மேலிருந்து நூலினை ஆட்டுகிறான்
நாமெல்லாம் பொம்மை என்று நாடகம் காட்டுகிறான்
காவியம் போல் ஒரு வாழ்க்கையை தீட்டுவான்
காரணம் ஏதும் இன்றி காட்சியை மாற்றுவான்

The heavenly protagonist skillfully swings the thread,
Staging a play with puppets that we are,
Weaving poetry out of every life there is,
Changing scenes, for no apparent reason...


Dinesh speaks with his conscience.

உயிரும் நீயே (Uyirum Neeye) from Pavithra

உயிரும் நீயே, உடலும் நீயே, உறவும் நீயே தாயே
உன் உடலில் சுமந்து, உயிரை பகிர்ந்து, உறவும் தருவாய் நீயே
உன் கண்ணில் வழியும் ஒரு துளி போதும் கடலும் முழுகும் தாயே
உன் காலடி மட்டும் தருவாய் தாயே சொர்க்கம் என்பது பொய்யே

விண்ணை படைத்தான், மண்ணை படைத்தான்
காற்றும், மழையும் ஒளியும் படைத்தான்
பூமிக்கு அதனால் நிம்மதி இல்லை
சாமி தவிர்த்தான் தாயை படைத்தான்

My life, My body, My binding...my Mother,
Bearing me in your self, bestowing your life to me and embodying me,
A single tear drop from your eyes and oceans drown,
Gift me your feet and the heavens seem a lie.

He created the skies, He created the sands,
The winds, the rains, the light, He created,
Yet, peace reigns not on Earth,
He struggled in anguish,
and created...Mother

Thanks to Subu for his touching post.

மின்னலே (Minnale) from May Madham

Lightning of my life, why did you appear?
I know not why my eyes hurt, do you?
Are you not the mirage that disappeared in my sky?

You stayed for a few precious moments and yet my palace lies simmering,
Oh lightning, my sky searches for you,
Myriad colors that dissolved when I dare to open my eyes,
I have but a memory of the sweet lifelines in your hands,
As my heart explodes into a million suffering bits, I see but your reflection in each little bit,

…a blazing inferno awaits you in my tears, I am but a delicate flower, blooming in the shadow of your tender feet…

Is there ever parched earth that fails to await the soothing caress of rain drops? Is there ever a divine force that awaits not loving festivities with welcoming arms? Is there ever a passionate poet who yearns not for his union with rhyming words? And as I wait, does my love not become eternal?

…a blazing inferno awaits you in my tears, I am but a delicate flower, blooming in the shadow of your tender feet…

From my archives.

என் உயிரே from உயிரே (En Uyire from Uyire)

உன்னோடு நான் கண்ட பந்தம்
மண்ணோடு மழை கொண்ட சொந்தம்
காய்ந்தாலும் அடி ஈரம் எஞ்சும்

The bonding I perceive between us,
the oneness that rain claims with sand,
dry it might, but the wetness beneath persists...

Thanks to this post for bringing this to my notice!