kharaashein

सन १९४७ में आग और खून से लिपटी एक लकीर मुल्क को काटती हुई गुज़र गयी और मुल्क तकसीम हो गया ।

we perform Gulzaar's Kaharashein - play based on partition and communal riots.

untitled

ऐसे तो मैं खुश था ।
खुद को बेज़ार कर लिया था,
और तमन्ना को सिखा दिया
था सब्र ।

तन्हा लोगों की
बड़ी-सी भीड़ में,
अकेले ही सब के साथ-साथ
मैं चलता था,
न किसी से कोई तव्क्कू
न गिला कोई।

फिर तुम्हारे जाने का
ऐसा सदमा क्यूँ है ?
ख़ुशी का कम होना
ग़म क्यूँ है ?

उमस

औंधे कमरे में अब मेरा पता नहीं मिलता ।
न कोई आहट किसी हरकत की,
न जिस्म की बू कहीं ।
चेहरा और कमरे में बंद अँधेरा
एक दुसरे में समां चुके थे ,
उन्हें अलग करना मुश्किल था ।

आँखें धुप में जल गयीं थी ,
शहर के एहतमादी लू ने
साँसों का गला घोंट दिया था ।
रगों में बहता हुआ लहू
खुश्क आँखों को जज्बातों में डुबो कर
भिगो कर सूख चूका था ।

बहार से आवाज़ देना बेकार था,
नशा कोई भी नहीं - होश कहाँ था?
पर मुझे ख़बर थी
मैं उस कमरे में नहीं था ।

Irom Sharmila

When I first saw the name on an invitation to a book reading session, I could vaguely remember having heard the name before. On the day of the reading by Deepti (the author) of 'Burning Bright: Irom Sharmila and the struggle for peace in Manipur' I was assured that what I had heard of her was too little and incommensurate with the portent situation. Irom has been waging a brave battle that has been almost unnoticed by the media and civil society (if something like that exists in India, though I strongly believe in the contrary).

For details about Irom, her struggle and an interview please check NDTV and Tehelka's articles.

Deepti's simple as-a-matter-of-fact reading and the immense inner force of Irom moved me (even if for a few moments) and dented a few not-so-obvious but huge dents in the capitalist-consumerist life that I live and justify. I unsuccessfully searched for the book in order to be somewhat more aware of what is called society and country (an independent, sovereign republic mind you!).

Yesterday's news regarding the denial of VISA by Canada to many serving and retired officers of Indian Army though connected a few dots for me. The ground for denial was that Canada reserves the right to deny VISA to persons who serve/work in organisations that are involved in human rights violation. Indian Army serving in J&K, members of the BSF are under this category! Though Indian Army is no stranger to accusations of violation of human rights - J&K, Chattisgarh, Punjab and Manipur of course, blaming the entire basket for a few or quite a few bad apples would set a very bad precedent. What about US, UK and even Canadian troops engaged in human rights violation in Afganistan and Iraq?

Irom's struggle though made me realise that how much driven, forced and disturbed could someone be because of such 'incidents'. Here is someone who could have chosen a life that many many of her age lead - a well paying job in a concrete jungle, a boyfriend, marriage, many parties, weekend at malls, shopping, theaters etc. etc. But she rather chose to do what she calls her 'bounden duty'. I wonder how many of us have the propriety to even understand what those words mean. How many such duties have we comfortably ignored and they still stand wide-eyed staring at us in stark vacuity?
It is even more repulsive to see that a country whose struggle for was unique in its use of non-violent means for its end - freedom from foreign rule and tyranny, is resorting to the same means that her ruler did not more than 60 years ago to curb the voices of protest. A country where millions die of a familiar phenomenon-hunger, hunger strike was a language that Gandhiji used to communicate so effectively to the illiterate villagers and Britishers alike. Irom is arrested and re-arrested for the last 10 years for the same act.

Another dot - What should the tribals do about the loss of their land and livelihood? Come to Delhi, sit on hunger strikes? For how long? 10 years? Will anyone give a damn? Will the media even report it? Is it not more important to know whether IPL nights are the real cause of India exit from 20-20 world cup?

Will the Armed Forces Special Powers Act be repealed?
May The Strength be with you as it has been Irom. Amen!

suggest a title please

हर रात एक झूठे वादे की तरह
भूल जाने की तस्सली देती है ।
और हर सुबह, मार के तमाचा
याद दिलाती है की तुम याद हो ।

अब तो इन सफ्हों पर
नज़्म लिखते डर लगता है ,
कहीं ये पत्थर न बन जाएँ
और मैं कैद न हो जाऊं
अपने लफ़्ज़ों के ही साथ
इनमे सदियों के लिए,
इतिहास की तरह ।
तुम्हारा क्या है?
तुम तो चल दोगे हवा के साथ
सूखे, हलके धुल की तरह ।

breeze

You seem a little confused.
Have come to me, touched
And gone past and come back again
And again, many times.

And what have you written
On these white letters of clouds ?
I can't read well, the moon is with you,
Or have you sent them blank?

Your words are all mixed tonight
Anger, care, complaint and love.
All come and go fast
How am I to respond ?

Come closer, stay,
Let me feel you on my face.
Let me take-in your scent
In my breath.

Be engulfed in joy innocent
Without reason any
And be aware
That you Are.

all i have is words, hope and you

there is no tomorrow;
what we have is the present and each other.
lets live each day as it is,
lets meet each other as we do eager.
lets trust each other as us,
lets be robbed of all that is to be.
lets transform into something we yet know not,
lets cross the limits of all limits we think and
lets rejoice that we found in each other
what we never searched.

lets love each other as we love
lets be each other as we are. (i have not missed 'with')

sauda

बड़े घाटे का सौदा रे,
सौदा बड़े घाटे का रे ।
हाथ लिए गेहूं,
मोल दिए आटे का रे ।

जो कुछ भी माँगा,
पल में गवाया,
फिर मांगने तेरे
द्वार मैं आया ।
माया मरी न
तृष्णा मरी,
देह मरा पर
यह मन न मरा रे
बड़े घाटे का सौदा रे
सौदा बड़े घाटे का रे । । । १। ।


चैन गवाया, बुद्धि गवाई
बदले में चिता-सी चिंता पाई।
इस दौड़-धुप में क्या पाया मैंने
और कौन मुझसे छुटा रे
बड़े घाटे का सौदा रे
सौदा बड़े घाटे का रे । । २। ।

ध्यान छुटा, मेरा भजन छुटा
विषयों के बाज़ार आकर
मेरा तकदीर फूटा ।
कीमत न जानी कैसा अभागा
सोने को मैंने माना सुहागा
इसकी सुनी मैंने उसकी सुनी
गुरु ज्ञान पे न ध्यान धरा रे।
बड़े घाटे का सौदा रे
सौदा बड़े घाटे का रे ।


तोता भी रट रट के राम का नाम सीख लेता है। सतगुर कबीर जी को पढ़, सुनके ही यह बन पाया है , उन्ही को अर्पित है ।

naiharva

Naiharva Hum Ka Na Bhave
Sai Ki Nagri Param Ati Sundar,
Jahan Koi Jav Na Avey
Chand Suraj Jahan, Pavan Na Pani,
Ko Sundesh Pahunchave
Dard Yeh Sai Ko Sunave

Naiharva...
Agey Chalo Panth Nahin Sujhe,
Peeche Dosh Lagawe
Kehi Bidhi Sasure Jau Mori Sajani,
Virha Jor Jarawe Vishai Ras Nach Nachawe

Bin Satguru Apno Nahin Koi,
Jo Yeh Rah Batawe
Kahat Kabira Suno Bhai Sadho,
Supne Na Pitam Awey Tapan Yeh Jiya Ki Bujhawey

Don't like anymore, the home of my mother.
Most beautiful is beloved's home - comes and goes none.
'Tell this pain to Him', will someone bother?

Someone, please be my kind messenger,
Wind, water, Moon or you the Sun.
Don't like anymore, the home of my mother.

To move back or ahead, a path I can't decipher.
How do I go to the home of the loved one?
'Tell this pain to Him', will someone bother?

There is no savior that one's own master,
Shows the right way for us often.
Don't like anymore, the home of my mother.

Objects, senses, engage me in the dance macabre
And my heart faces the arrows of separation.
'Tell this pain to Him', will someone bother?

Listen my dear noble ones, says Kabir,
In dreams He comes, quenches thirst of my own.
Don't like anymore, the home of my mother.
'Tell this pain to Him', will someone bother?

The master mystic Kabir gives the allusion of a married woman (soul) who pines for her husband's/beloved's (God) home and her heart does not find solace or peace in her mother's home(world). Translated to English by me in a form called Villanelle.
Listen to the song.

poem 26

Duality

Was it you that I sought?
For so long,
At all places,
At lonesome nights
And crowded days,
Among faces known
And unknown,
As what I need,
And what would
Please me the most.

But then you are here now
And why do I still long for
My lonesome nights
And crowded days?
What do I still seek
And why anymore?
Why the same if not more
Restlessness as before?

I wanted you then
And now I don't.
Though you maintain
That you are the same
As you were.

If there be truth
In what you say,
How could you -
The unchanged one,
Cause effects opposite
To one another.
Pain-pleasure,
Presence-Vacuum,
Love-Hurt,
Hope-despair.

I think it was my mind
That perceived as I allowed
And wanted to,
And attached values hence.
Then what would you be?
The sum total of the opposites
Which is nothing
But mere naught.

poem 25

mistake

to see your face
in the silent dark
why bring the lamp
near the mirror
and fail?

is that not the image mere?

bring the light
closer to your face,
illuminate yourself -
the one real,
see the truth clear!

poem 24

nag

salesman of the year and the best ever
could sell almost all things
emotions, love. smile or tear.

nothing is too good or bad to measure
everything has a price, a buyer,
and you can agree on a number.

never out of reasons, pleas
persuasive in ways
ends by any means, please.

and he is persistent and sincere
that, you sign on the dotted line
right now for sure.

comes back always with a new offer,
even though you know, he makes you pay
him you just can not ignore.

poem 23

words

random patterns that ink
makes on white palms of papers,
a few words here and there.

when poured and filled with
emotions and feelings,
attain a life of their own.

can replace a person;
love, hurt, comfort,
instill fear, hope and inspire.

many times spurn actions
out of its fertile womb
and many times a few more of words.

poem 22

They

As curtains of darkness
Were swiftly removed for a moment,
They revealed their thin naked legs
And blood-stained ankles.

Forced to live
Carrying a burden of shame
That belongs to different
Shoulders and heads.

Wombs made barren
By pilferage, Often in broad daylight.
Breasts pricked with metals
Time and again in sadist pleasure.

They do not tie knots
In their cloud-like
Scattered hair anymore
Forced to grey before time.

Children must beg now
After being driven out
From their homes by hunger
And thirst of more.

They may succumb to this humiliation.
To which I added hours of vain ogling
And inaction.

poem 21

to give up, is easy
the river takes its course - up to down
takes along many things with it
things that have surrendered
their will to reverse
the direction of
the flow the mighty element
to traverse in the opposite direction
to strive relentless and
to never give up

I have no idea if this can be called a form. But this style is inspired by Kavi Samrat Upendra Bhanja (oriya poet of seventeenth century)who wrote kavyas (long poetries) with each line starting with one letter such as the Baideheesha Bilasha(with"Ba" initial for each line).

poem 20

prompt : to write a poem whose title is longer than the poem

EXPLOSION AND ULTIMATELY DESTRUCTION OF SELF AND EVERYTHING NOBLE AND GOOD AROUND AT THE FAINTEST HINT OF PROVOCATION WHICH MAY BE REAL OR IMAGINARY

my mind is mightier than the gun
why, it does not need even a trigger !

poem 19

An ode to confusion /What should the title be

Of all things that I am confused about,
I am confused about this confusion the most.
It's birth certificate is very complicate
Father and guess what even the mother
Have the same name as itself!
In the space for date of birth and time
There is just one specific word - 'anytime'.!!

Not an easy child to rear, you must bear
Many many trials: vehement denials
Followed by affirmations strong as bed rocks.
Only to be swapped as twins
And convictions are strong as nine pins.
Experience is meant to be forgotten
And past mistakes very repeatable.

Time, money, relationships and habit
Only make matters worse for it.
'How can I compare apples with oranges, bananas and pears?'
Poor things is an easy prey; sympathy, greed,
Jealousy, conscience, love and hate
All cast and catch it with their own baits.

It's a pathetic actor too.
Words and even silence,
Action and even inertia,
Reveal more of the blessed state than hide!

Even Mr. Frost finally took one road - the one less traveled.
But even if our friend takes one, either one,
It would think and miss the other.
Not only that, it may retreat and take the other
And do the same again, this time the other:
No. The other!

It's only solace though, is to know
That there are others, whom it equally bothers
With degree more or less, but it does.
Takes pride that only it can ride life's rivers
With a feet each in boats two.

One may be certain of many things
And the number of such certain things may increase
But one thing is certain -
There will always be things one is always confused about.


Dedicated to my mother, friends and well i am confused now.

poem 18

You had filled my empty days,
At nights fought with sleep for space
In the yellow desert of my eyes
And showed me many songs and plays.

Made me forget the lashes of memories
Struck on mind's naked back,
A break too from the cruel game with mirages
Of future, where one gambles on forgeries.

Intellect, knowledge, reason kept aside
So did were feelings dipped in pride
To 'here and now' you brought me
To think, believe, realise, decide.

And to Act , for the result taking no thought,
Whether it was a cheap bargain I bought,
It was my inevitable duty, my nature,
That there was a vital battle and I fought.

This form of poetry is called Rubayiyat (rhyming scheme aaba), made famous by the Persian poet Omar Khayyam.


Many titles could be nominated: Temptation, Kurukhsetra, Guru, The War. Too many for me to decide.

poem 17

will you
accept my doubts,
my vices, frailities
my confusions and demons of past
with me ?

in dark
and stormy nights
when i look for support,
will you steady me and hold fast
my hands ?

can you
bear it equally ?
losses-gains, smiles-tears
honour-criticism:without and
with me?

poem 16

maid

she swept neat the floor of the big house,
where from each tile the face of her son beamed.
'left alone at home, would he be crying for me?
ah! if only I could wipe the tear from his cheeks
and sweat from his forehead rather than this floor.'

she put out the clothes in the sun to dry.
the colour reminded her of the red frock
she saw through the glasses at the blue shop.
'should I ask for an advance or wait for month-end;
but my daughter's birthday can't wait no?

'it is so hot this year and then the damned powercuts,
why did they have to cut down the neem tree
that gave shade to her hut?
the children suffer so much during the afternoon!'
she thought while dusting the ceiling and the fans.

'two potatoes and handful of lentils is all that is left,
the children would ask for curry again.
three times he forgot,maybe he is saying the truth
or has he been drinking my Lord !'

her hands, feet and her body were here at her master's house,
busy working tirelessly and well.
her mind's compass though pointed to her small home
and he attention concerntrated on her family above all.