Saturday 23 February 2013

Death of An Evening


The sky wept all night. The tears which twinkled in its eyes as stars came down as rains and moistened the bosom of the earth. Each drop had a story; unspoken pain, long longing, abandoned hope and definite despair. The apathy and indifference of man made no difference anymore. The leaves though were trembling and nodding their heads in silent but helpless empathy. The wind was restless and angry like a young boy pacing up and down in his room, unable to understand why his parents are fighting or what he should do.

The evening, the beautiful bride, which the sun brought home had died.

Tuesday 5 February 2013

A train journey

Wo doosron ke ghar ke bane poori aur aloo ko dekhna, 
Offer karne par, pehle naa aur phir haan karna,
Pede ka aadha tukda kha kar, padosi ko aadha.badha dena,
Breakfast me humesha bread cutlet ka hona,
Samose wale ke baad chaiwala aur chaiwale ke baad mungfali wale ka wait karna, 
Bahut yaad aata hai, train mein safar karna.

Politics se lekar cricket tak, 
History se lekar weather tak,
Faasle khatam Ho jaate the, par guftagu nahin,
Antakshari, dumb cherades aur Taash ki baaziyon se
Haseen silsilon ka shuru hona,
Nazron ka milna aur milte hi  pher lena,
Muskurahaton ko dabaana, 
Phone numbers ya address exchange karna,
Aur kabhie kabhie un khaabon ka mulaqaton me mukammil hona,
Bahut yaad aata hai, train mein safar karna

Khidkiyon se hawa ka chehra choom lena,
Suraj ko patriyon par bhagte hue dekhna, 
Baarish ka bijli ki taar par naachna, 
Sufaid kohre ke shawl odhe peele.sarson ka neend mein unghna, 
Station ke kaale-peele naam padhna, 
Chalna-rukna, aur hilte-dulte, dhire-dhire,
Jaise maa ki thapkiyon ke sahare so jaana,
Bahut yaad aata hai sach train mein safar karna