Category: ललित

  • It’s a grey area…

    It’s a grey area…

    It’s true when you say it’s not always a black and white when it comes to a life. It’s true for every relationship too. May it be a friendship, or a companionship, or romantic relationship in general. I tried penning it in a Marathi free verse. I would also try to give English translation for the same.

    तसं तुझ्या माझ्यातलं सारं काही,
    त्या ग्रे एरिया मधलंच.

    हो नाही, पांढरं काळं
    असं द्वैत तुला मान्य नाही, ना मला

    सर्वच कसं धूसर, अस्पष्ट,
    अगदी दूरवर विरत जाणाऱ्या ढगासारखं.

    —
    आदित्य साठे

    It’s all a grey area,
    covering everything between us.

    We don’t recognize a duality,
    Black -n- White or No -n- Yes

    Everything is blur and fuzzy,
    Like fizzing faraway clouds

    —
    Aditya Sathe

    Please feel free to comment and let me know if I have managed to convey my emotions about grey area through this free verse and it’s translation. English poetry is a new adventure for me. I have just ventured into it and am aware that there’s a long long way to go.

    This blog post is part of ‘Blogaberry Dazzle’ hosted by Cindy D’Silva and Noor Anand Chawla.

    If you like to read more of my poems, click.

  • To begin again

    To begin again

    It’s been days since I turned that last page. I finally put a full stop to my last relationship. And you know how hard it is to move on and start a new life. When there’s no next page to turn, you have no choice but to accept the end. We shared some wonderful moments together; created memories that I’ll always cherish. But alas, every journey has its destination.

    Then again, wasn’t I aware of this ending the moment I took that very first step? Somewhere, deep in the back of my mind, I was always bracing for the moment we’d reach the final chapter. From the beginning, it was clear, there was never going to be a “…happily ever after” for this companionship.

    But hold your horses guys,

    I’m not talking about a girl, and no breakup song is playing in the background. Doesn’t this sound more like finishing a really good book?

    When you crack open a cover and dive into the world an author has so beautifully crafted, there’s always that final page with the words “The End.”
    And if the book is truly fascinating, it casts a kind of spell, opening up a portal and pulling you into the characters’ lives, making you feel like you’re part of their journey.
    The author takes them by the hand and leads them toward their fate. By the last page, their story is complete. If joy awaits them, they savor it. If it’s a tragedy, they still find closure.

    But hey, dear writer — did you forget something? What about us, the readers? What about our closure? Didn’t you think of us, the uninvited travelers who journeyed alongside your characters?

    This is exactly what happens to me every time I finish an incredible book. I need time to emerge from the world between its covers. I know it sounds a little unhinged — but to my fellow bibliophiles out there, aren’t we all a little crazy like that? Like someone hopelessly in love, I fall for each new world I discover. 

    Even now, I’m drawn back to my bookshelf again. The scent of those printed pages enchants me, tempting me to pick up a new book… and begin again.

    This blog post is part of ‘Blogaberry Dazzle’ hosted by Cindy D’Silva and Noor Anand Chawla.

    Fore more such posts, please click here.

  • An ode to the god of words – Bakibab

    An ode to the god of words – Bakibab

    The language issue has once again stirred the political landscape of Maharashtra. But I’m not going to delve into that here. Instead, I want to share something personal. 

    I consider myself fortunate to have done my schooling in my mother tongue, Marathi. This isn’t about flaunting linguistic pride or regional identity. Honestly, when it comes to the medium of education, children don’t really get to choose. Those decisions are made by parents. But I’m deeply grateful that my schooling introduced me to the rich literary heritage of Marathi.

    Back then, as a student, I didn’t appreciate it much. The boring educational atmosphere left little room for genuine literary enjoyment. But everything changed once I stepped outside that framework and began exploring Marathi literature just for fun.

    One such discovery was Balkrishna Bhagwant Borkar, fondly known as Bakibab. 

    माझ्या गोव्याच्या भूमीत, गड्या नारळ मधाचे||

    These were the first lines through which we were introduced to Bakibab in school. This poem was a tribute to his beloved homeland, Goa. To help us memorize it, we set it to the tune of a popular Marathi film song—“काळ्या मातीत मातीत”. It fitted perfectly.  Memorization was the primary goal back then, but today, I revisit these words with a different appreciation.

    I am talking about him today because 8th July marks his death anniversary.

    Bakibab wrote this particular poem while he was living in Pune, unsure of when he would next return to Goa. He chose the ओवी (Ovi) form; a traditional Marathi meter commonly used in जात्यावरच्या ओव्या (folk couplets sung by women while grinding grain on the जातं or grinding stone). Saint Dnyaneshwar famously composed most of his works in this same format.

    The poem is quite long, so I’ll only touch upon a few lines here. I’m also sharing a link to a archival recording of Bakibab himself reciting this poem on Mumbai Doordarshan. Do give it a listen if you’re interested; his voice brings the verses to life in a way that no text ever can.

    Tribute to homeland

    माझ्या गोव्याच्या भूमीत, गड्या नारळ मधाचे
    कड्या कपारीमधूनी घट फुटती दूधाचे

    माझ्या गोव्याच्या भूमीत, वनश्रीची कारागिरी,
    पानफुलांची कुसर, पशुपक्ष्यांच्या किनारी,

    माझ्या गोव्याच्या भूमीत उन्हाळ्यात खारा वारा
    पावसात दारापुढे सोन्या चांदीच्या रे धारा.

    माझ्या गोव्याच्या भूमीत गड्या साळीचा रे भात,
    वाढी आईच्या मायेने सोनकेवड्याचा हात,

    माझ्या गोव्याच्या भूमीत लाल माती निळे पाणी,
    खोल आरक्त घावात शुद्ध वेदनांची गाणी.

    माझ्या गोव्याच्या भूमीत सारा माझा जीव जडे
    पुरा माझ्या कवनाचा गंध तेथे उलगडे.

    In my homeland of Goa, you get coconuts sweet like honey and you you will see fizzy milky waterfalls everywhere you look.

    In my homeland of Goa, forest is an artist, there are gorgeous motifs of flora and lovely borders of fauna!

    In my homeland of Goa, summer brings crisp sea breeze and monsoon showers gold and silver in my yard!

    In my homeland of Goa, Jiresaal (जिरेसाळ) (local rice variety which smells like cumin) is in abundance, and it get served to everyone with love and care of a mother.

    In my homeland of Goa, we have blue waters and red soil. But it’s not red just naturally, it has soaked into our blood and struggles. Our deep wounds sing songs of hard times.

    It’s my homeland of Goa, which has captured my mind, there you will understand the true flavor of my poems!

    This is my humble attempt to bring a part of this beautiful poem for you. Hope you like it.

    This blog post is part of ‘Blogaberry Dazzle’ hosted by Cindy D’Silva and Noor Anand Chawla.

    Fore more such posts, please click here.

  • On the lookout for joy

    On the lookout for joy

    No matter your age, everyone seeks joy. Even in the most difficult places—like the infamous slums of Dharavi in Mumbai, or war-torn corners of Africa—people still chase happiness. This morning, I stumbled upon almost a decade old Medium article which gave me a glimpse into the lives of Ethiopian kids who’ve taken that pursuit a step further.

    In a place with no roads or paved spaces, they discovered joy in skateboarding. What began with just seven skateboards and 25 boys has now grown into a thriving community known as Ethiopia Skate. Built on passion and perseverance, this club is a testament to what’s possible when people embrace what they have instead of lamenting what they lack.

    When you don’t have, keep your eyes open for it

    These kids have created joy from scraps; turning abandoned buildings into skateparks, transforming local obstacles into ramps and props for tricks. They chose to live their dreams rather than let their limitations define it for them.

    Isn’t that what we all crave? A spark of joy in our day, a reason to smile. Yet so often, we’re caught up in excuses. “Ohh I am too busy, too tired, or I don’t have enough time or resources.” We forget the simple pleasures we once cherished, buried under routine and the chase for money. Along the way, we lose touch with our skills, our hobbies, and the things that once made us feel alive.

    Maybe it’s time to dig out those old paintbrushes, put on your favorite song, or dust off your camera and capture a few moments. Sit back with a drink you love, indulge in your favorite food, and just be. These are the simple joys; the real stress busters.

    I truly believe everyone has their own little ‘joy boosters’ waiting to be rediscovered. So go ahead, find yours. Have some fun!

    For more entries in Adi’s Journal, click here.

    This blog post is part of ‘Blogaberry Dazzle’ hosted by Cindy D’Silva and Noor Anand Chawla in collaboration with Ratna Prabha.

  • Back right after a short break

    Back right after a short break

    It’s been a while since I posted anything here. The past couple of months have been quite a roller coaster. A lot has been going on. I had to move to a new apartment, and the process of house hunting and shifting was no small task. Trust me, it was a real hustle. Things have also picked up professionally. Some exciting projects for my language services are finally gaining momentum. Amidst all this, blogging and creative writing unfortunately had to take a back seat.

    But, it was just a pause. A comma, and not a full stop.

    And now, we are back after a short commercial break

    I was quite consistent with my blogging efforts during the first four months of 2025. I owe a lot of that to the various blogging campaigns that kept me inspired. One such beautiful initiative was the #EveryConversationMatters campaign, dedicated to promoting the mother tongue, organized by Manali and Sukaina. It gave me the wonderful opportunity to translate a piece by one of the legends of Indian literature—Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore.

    The campaign that truly helped me stay consistent, though, was Season 1 of Blogaberry Dazzle 2025, managed by two amazing fellow bloggers; Cindy and Noor.

    Today, with this inaugural post of Season 2 of the dazzling campaign, I want to thank these two ladies for their constant motivation and support. As I pen this post at the very last minute, I’m reminded of the effort it takes to stay committed through another season. But I’m ready to pick up where I left off and resume my 2025 blogging journey.

    Here’s hoping the train doesn’t get stuck on a siding again for lack of signals; as it’s just starting to pick up speed! Many exciting things are planned for the months ahead. While I can’t reveal much just yet, I’m truly looking forward to what’s coming.

    So stay tuned…

    This blog post is also a part of ‘Blogaberry Dazzle’ hosted by Cindy D’Silva and Noor Anand Chawla in collaboration with Mister Tikku.

  • Khdiki || a Hindi poem | खिड़की || हिन्दी कविता |

    Khdiki || a Hindi poem | खिड़की || हिन्दी कविता |

    One evening in September 2021, my artist friend Snehal Ekbote and I found ourselves deep in conversation about our respective art forms. She had been working on a mesmerizing series of acrylic paintings on canvas, crafted with intricate dots and dashes. One particular piece struck a chord within me. Inspired by her artwork, I penned a poem—our very first artistic collaboration.

    What began as a spontaneous exchange of creativity soon evolved into something more. On a whim, we decided to merge our artistic expressions into a desk calendar for 2022. And just like that, रेखांकित शब्दांकित २०२२ was born. What started as a single project soon became an annual tradition. Now, in 2025, we proudly celebrate our fourth consecutive year of collaboration. Each year, we explored new themes. Snehal experimented with colors and forms. I delved into diverse subjects and poetic structures, from free verse to Haiku and चारोळी (four-liners)

    This particular creation holds a special place in my heart. One of her paintings was so evocative that I couldn’t resist capturing its essence in a free verse poem. I am sharing it today as part of a blogging challenge hosted by Cindy D’Silva and Noor Anand Chawla. Originally written in Marathi, I have translated it into Hindi to reach a wider audience.

    मराठी कविता

    हो, सवयच लागलीये आम्हाला
    सारं सारं काही त्या एका खिडकीतून पहायची.
    दिवसभराचं कामाचं ओझं मानेवरून उतरवून,
    जेव्हा आम्ही आमच्या चार भिंतींमध्ये स्वतःला बंद करून घेतो.
    तेव्हा आमच्यासमोर संपूर्ण विश्व उभं असतं या खिडकीमध्ये.

    अगदी छोट्या ५-६ इंची झरोक्यापासून ते भिंतभर पसरलेली मोठ्ठी फ्रेंच विंडो!
    हे सारे पर्याय आम्ही खिशाला खार लावून घेतले आहेतच.
    दिवसभराचा शिणवटा घालवण्यासाठी चहा कॉफी,
    सोबतीला दोन चार बिस्किट्स…
    आणि हो, जर हिचा मूड चांगला असेल,
    तर पोहे उपमा किंवा तत्सम काहीतरी…
    या साऱ्याची जमवाजमव होऊन खिडकीपाशी जोडीनं बैठक पडते,
    पण, बऱ्याचदा एकट्यानेच…

    खिडकीतून दिसणारी भकास सिमेंट काँक्रीट ची जंगल बघण्यात तिला रस नसतो, आणि तिचं बहारदार जग मला रुचत नसतं……
    ~~~
    आदित्य साठे
    ३०/०८/२०२१

    हिन्दी अनुवाद

    हा, हमे अब आदत सी हो गई है,
    सब कुछ उसी एक खिड़की से देखने की।
    दिन भर के कामों का बोझा पीठ से उतार के,
    जब हम अपने आप को, बंद कर लेते है उन चार दीवारों में।
    तो उसी खिड़की में हमारे लिए खुला तैयार होता है सारा जहां।

    बेहद छोटे ५ बाय ६ के झरोखें से लेकर एक पूरी दीवार बने इतनी बड़ी फ्रेंच विंडो तक!
    सारे विकल्प हमने अपनी खुद की जेबें काट कर खरीदे है।
    दिनभर की थकान मिटाने के लिए, चाय कॉफ़ी और साथ ने दो चार बिस्कुट,
    और हा, अगर श्रीमती जी का मूड बढ़िया हो, तो कुछ समोसे कचौरी भी…
    ये सारी सामग्री जमा कर जोड़े से बैठ जाते है हम खिड़की में।
    पर, ज़्यादातर अकेले ही…

    खिड़की से देखने वाला उदास कॉन्क्रीट का जंगल देखने में उसे कोई दिलचस्पी नहीं है,
    और उसकी खिलखिलाती दुनिया मुझे रास नहीं आती…
    ~~~
    आदित्य साठे
    १७/०२/२०२५

    This blog post is part of ‘Blogaberry Dazzle’ hosted by Cindy D’Silva and Noor Anand Chawla.

    Read more of my poems here.