Categories
Poetry

Freedom to Dream

By Pramod Rastogi

From Public Domain
FREEDOM TO DREAM

Dreams I see are seamless and clear.
Yet, when I try to recollect them,
They appear blurred and distorted,
Their threads so loosely woven
That the essence slips through the gaps,
Leaving little behind for the dreamer
To gather into a garland
And give his visions a narrative.

Most of the dreams I see are fleeting.
They seem to leave no trace upon my mind.
I can scarcely recall them later.
Yet, when I reflect upon the freedom
Life bestows upon us,
I find, in whatever wisdom I possess,
That it is the freedom to dream
Which surpasses all others.

Its untouchable nature makes us free
To dream without restraint.
A freedom fighter, condemned
To mount the gallows at dawn,
Can still dream of liberty
For his country until his final hurrah.
The noose settles slowly around him,
And he drifts into his last sleep.

Yet his dream endures.
Martyrdom still shines within it,
And though his eyes are open no more,
A smile lingers in their memory.

Pramod Rastogi is an Emeritus Professor at the EPFL, Switzerland. He is a poet, academician, researcher, author of nine scientific books, and a former Editor-in-chief (1999-2019) of the international scientific journal, Optics and Lasers in Engineering. He was an honorary Professor at the IIT Delhi between 2000 and 2004. He was a guest Professor at the IIT Gandhinagar between 2019 and 2023. He is presently an honorary adjunct Professor at the IIT Jammu.

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Categories
Poetry

Poetry by Pramod Rastogi

From Public Domain
ON THE LOOKOUT FOR DREAMERS

No rain has touched these wastelands.
The earth lies stony, locked in stillness.
Dreams struggle here to take root,
And those that do soon wilt away.

Parched are the lanes of this hamlet,
Inhabited only by daydreamers
Who dream of running water
To raise rich harvests of living dreams.

Dreamers gather where the road begins.
Each chooses a direction of their own.
Wherever they wander, passion walks beside them,
Its fierce intensity breaking open obstacles.

Life is a station restless with departures.
Harvest is nearing; soon dreams will be
Separated carefully from the chaff,
Gathered at last into waiting heaps.

And then these dreams, still breathing softly,
Will go searching for new dreamers.

Pramod Rastogi is an Emeritus Professor at the EPFL, Switzerland. He is a poet, academician, researcher, author of nine scientific books, and a former Editor-in-chief (1999-2019) of the international scientific journal, Optics and Lasers in Engineering. He was an honorary Professor at the IIT Delhi between 2000 and 2004. He was a guest Professor at the IIT Gandhinagar between 2019 and 2023. He is presently an honorary adjunct Professor at the IIT Jammu.

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Categories
Poetry

Deciduous Dreams by Pramod Rastogi

From Public Domain
DECIDUOUS DREAMS 

My dreams are in free fall.
This year I have not sat beside
My bedroom windowpanes
To watch the autumn winds rise.

Fall is visible along the side lanes;
The winds whip and wound.
The leaves wear a sorrowful look.
Soon they will all drift down

With spasms but without a shriek,
Caught in the currents of the breeze.
My heart skips a beat as it realises
That each leaf was part of its dream.

Soon the leaves will all be gone,
And with them, my dreams.
Like a tree in mourning,
I will have lost my regal allure.

I will be like a tarnished star
That has lost all its shine.
After a pause, though, spring will arrive —
And my dreams will bloom in rose.

Pramod Rastogi is an Emeritus Professor at the EPFL, Switzerland. He is a poet, academician, researcher, author of nine scientific books, and a former Editor-in-chief (1999-2019) of the international scientific journal, Optics and Lasers in Engineering. He was an honorary Professor at the IIT Delhi between 2000 and 2004. He was a guest Professor at the IIT Gandhinagar between 2019 and 2023. He is presently an honorary adjunct Professor at the IIT Jammu.

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

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Categories
Poetry

Dying Embers by Pramod Rastogi

From Public Domain

DYING EMBERS

I have struggled all my life
To keep my dreams alive.
They have held sway over me,
Those that consoled me
And those I learned to disdain.

But in the darkness of time,
None, not even my thoughts,
Stood aligned with me. The fire
Once ignited in my dreams
Left me blind, barely

Clinging to the timber of my bed.
These dreams, like faded stars,
Have drifted awfully far, too far
To cast me still beneath their spell.
Yet I doubt. All is not ash.

Embers lie in slumber.
In storm or in calm, I must tread
Deftly as a whisper, lest a dying ember
Shriek its way from the clutter
And ignite my life into flames.

Pramod Rastogi is an Emeritus Professor at the EPFL, Switzerland. He is a poet, academician, researcher, author of nine scientific books, and a former Editor-in-chief (1999-2019) of the international scientific journal, Optics and Lasers in Engineering. He was an honorary Professor at the IIT Delhi between 2000 and 2004. He was a guest Professor at the IIT Gandhinagar between 2019 and 2023. He is presently an honorary adjunct Professor at the IIT Jammu.

.

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

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Categories
Poetry

My Stillborn Dreams by Pramod Rastogi

The Dream of Venus by Salvador Dali (1904-1989). From Public Domain
MY STILLBORN DREAMS 

Clouds have hovered above me
For as long as I can recall.
Perhaps it was their destiny
To shadow me upon every path.

Of all the dreams I once beheld,
None became a rallying call
For those that came thereafter —
So many, yet their hymns elude me.

Beneath the ceaseless drought of light,
None could bloom or bear my name,
None to endure through centuries,
None to crown me with esteem.

A poet haunted by tavern walls,
I have spent a lifetime digging graves
For my stillborn, fleeting dreams,
Lined like bottles along the bar.

A fervent poet I remain, though still
My hands fall short of the desire
To etch a metaphor for each tomb.
Yet those I buried, I cherish as my own.

Pramod Rastogi is an Emeritus Professor at the EPFL, Switzerland. He is a poet, academician, researcher, author of nine scientific books, and a former Editor-in-chief (1999-2019) of the international scientific journal, Optics and Lasers in Engineering. He was an honorary Professor at the IIT Delhi between 2000 and 2004. He was a guest Professor at the IIT Gandhinagar between 2019 and 2023. He is presently an honorary adjunct Professor at the IIT Jammu.

.

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL. 

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Categories
Poetry

The Solitary Tempest

By Pramod Rastogi

O clouds of loneliness,
I beckon your shadowed embrace.
Drift gently into the seams of my heart,
And rain, soft as whispered sorrows.

Sweep away the filth and dust,
The clinging residue of ceaseless strife,
Etched by life's restless tumult,
And leave behind a moment's quiet clarity.

But, O clouds, be but a fleeting guest,
Do not settle as my abiding home.
The deeper you linger,
The heavier grows your weight.

You threaten to rend from me
The final thread of self,
A fragile anchor to light and hope,
Swept away in torrents of despair.

Pramod Rastogi is an Emeritus Professor at the EPFL, Switzerland. He is a poet, academician, researcher, author of nine scientific books, and a former Editor-in-chief (1999-2019) of the international scientific journal “Optics and Lasers in Engineering”. He was an honorary Professor at the IIT Delhi between 2000 and 2004. He was a guest Professor at the IIT Gandhinagar between 2019 and 2023. He is presently an honorary adjunct Professor at the IIT Jammu.

.

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL. 

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Categories
Poetry

Poetry by Pramod Rastogi

From Public Domain
ETERNAL LIGHT 

Every night, beneath the veil of stars,
I feel your love, mother,
As vast as the ocean,
Its depths whispering calm paradise.

Your eyes, golden pools of tenderness,
Once held my fears,
Turned tears into sweetness,
And wrapped my heart in peace.

Though time has drawn you away,
I find you in the quiet,
In the light that lingers on the horizon,
In the bosom of memories woven into my soul.

You are the warmth beneath the cold,
The golden thread binding my days,
The eternal whisper of love
That lives within me,
Undimmed by the passage of time.

In this stillness, I carry you,
Guardian of my heart,
A light that will never fade,
A love that even the night cannot steal.

Pramod Rastogi is an Emeritus Professor at the EPFL, Switzerland. He is a poet, academician, researcher, author of nine scientific books, and a former Editor-in-chief (1999-2019) of the international scientific journal “Optics and Lasers in Engineering”. He was an honorary Professor at the IIT Delhi between 2000 and 2004. He was a guest Professor at the IIT Gandhinagar between 2019 and 2023. He is presently an honorary adjunct Professor at the IIT Jammu.

.

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL. 

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Categories
Poetry

Dreams Are Not for Real

By Pramod Rastogi

Wake, my cherished daughter,
And see who waits at your door.
Step forward, welcome it warmly --
This dawn, a guest meant for your heart.

Dawn is a dense foliage, alive with its flame.
Look how it rushes to embrace you.
Pluck it from the sky, let its glow
Fill the vase of your waiting soul.

Inhale the sacred scent it offers,
A divine aroma to ease your sorrow.
Exhale your grief into the morning light,
For your heart -- steadfast and jewelled -- endures.

Through every shadow, my love remains,
A constant light to ease your pain.
No trial too heavy, no wound too deep,
My arms are here, your fears to keep.

Fairy tales are not birthed in heaven.
They do not spring from the void.
Remember, they are our creation,
And you, my dear, bring them to life.

Your father held you once in his arms,
Steadying you to explore new paths.
Be not despondent; time will mend the scars.
Dreams with edges are dreams that endure.

Pramod Rastogi is an Emeritus Professor at the EPFL, Switzerland. He is a poet, academician, researcher, author of nine scientific books, and a former Editor-in-chief (1999-2019) of the international scientific journal “Optics and Lasers in Engineering”. He was an honorary Professor at the IIT Delhi between 2000 and 2004. He was a guest Professor at the IIT Gandhinagar between 2019 and 2023. He is presently an honorary adjunct Professor at the IIT Jammu. 

.

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Categories
Poetry

Footprints of Love

By Pramod Rastogi

From Public Domain
I would love to live a life
In rhyme with the wise
To help our planet renew
Its heydays of yore,
When a child could dream
Of the moon as a football
And would need to just stretch
His hands to touch the ball.

I live in accord with visions
Built with imagination.
Tied to my wishful dreams,
I like to give nuances
To my fleeting clouds of hopes
With a sketch pencil that scribbles
The rudiments of my compositions
Eager to soar.

Clouds soar when winds are nigh.
The Oceans, the Earth, and the sky sigh.
I leave footprints of my own
At a languorous pace
To embrace our progeny
On the palette of my dreams.
I leave these footprints of love
That leave no trace and sound.

Pramod Rastogi is an Emeritus Professor at the EPFL, Switzerland. He is a poet, academician, researcher, author of nine scientific books, and a former Editor-in-chief (1999-2019) of the international scientific journal “Optics and Lasers in Engineering”. He has published over hundred poems in international literary journals.

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

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Categories
Poetry

Silent Companions

By Pramod Rastogi

SILENT COMPANIONS 

The distance between us two has grown.
The day starts and ends with our disapprovals.
How long can we share a life lived in strife
Where clouds of admonitions rain forever?

Nostalgia I cannot relinquish resides in me.
She lives in me and I cannot leave her.
The sounds of melancholy live in our eyes
And they sing in quiet their songs of despair.

Love has gone on a journey oceans away. Roads
Are quiet and silence reigns as our talks flounder.
Holding hands and embraces are lost.
Storms build up and are lost. That is our destiny.

The monsoon settles down now to stay longer
And spring has shrunk to be as good as absent.
Yet, in every ray of sun, I want to relive the spring.
Not many more blossoms are left for me to live

Pramod Rastogi is an Emeritus Professor at the EPFL, Switzerland. He is a poet, academician, researcher, author of nine scientific books, and a former Editor-in-chief (1999-2019) of the international scientific journal “Optics and Lasers in Engineering”. He has published over hundred poems in international literary journals.

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Kindle Amazon International