ऊम्र

Meri sufaid zulfon se meri umr ko ishaara mat de, 

Umr ka dhalna koi buri baat nahi.

Ke din dhalta hai, 

To suhaani shaam hoti hai aur,

Dhup me tape badan ko thoda aaraam,

Pareshaan man ko pursukoon, 

Aur aasmaan mein bhatakte panchii

Ko lautne ko ghar milta hai. 

Mera tazurba, meri jad-o-jehad,

Meri shikasht, meri fateh ki,

Kahaniyan kehti hain meri jhurriyan, 

Inhe budhape ki nishaani mat bata.  

Umr ka ek padav jab pura hota hai

To naye padav ki shuruaat hoti hai

Savere ka suraj

Tab ufak pe apni laali bikherta hai 

Jab raat sabse kaali hoti hai.   

Ek aisa rishta

Is rishte ka rishta hona 

Bas tere masoom aitbaar 

Aur bina shikvon ke  

Intezaar ke badaulaat hai. 

Hum to bezaar the,

Kabhi berukhi to

Kabhi bewafai ki.

Jab mila to saut ki 

Zulfon ki itr ki khosboo 

Apne jism mein bhar kar mila. 

Aur Jab bichhda to 

Zald lautne ka jhootha

Waada bhi nahin kiya.

Purane shehar ki,

Ghumavdaar galiyon si

Tumhari baahon se  

Baar baar guzra.

Tumhari saason ko 

Hukke ke dhuyen ke saath,

Apne seene mein sameta,

Aur tumhari aansuon ka bhar

Kar jaam, ghoont ghoont gale 

Se utaara. 

Pardon ki tarah,

Tumhara ghoonghat uthaya to

Kucch jhurriyon ko aur gehra paya.

Labon ko sukha,

Aur hatheliyon ko sakht. 

Tumhara libaas utaara,

To waqt ke beraham 

Haathon ke nishaan paye.

Kucch nishaan mere bhi the,

Jinhe tumne sambhale the ab tak. 

Har baar lekin tumhari 

Aankhon me chamak,

Aur pyaar wohi tha. 

Milne par wo apnapan, 

Aur khushi ka izhaar bhi wahi. 

Jo majboor karta hai,

Ke baar baar laut ta hun,

Is shehar main. 

Par main ye jaanta Hun

Ke is rishte ka rishta hona 

Bas tere masoom aitbaar 

Aur bina shikvon ke  

Intezaar ke badaulaat hai. 

On my third visit to Udaipur. 

My school is on the bank of river Daya

My school is on the bank of river Daya,

The river of kindness;

The river that was kind to mighty king Ashoka, 

And made him the ruler of hearts of men through Dharma. 

The teacher told us so in the history class,

Just before the rains came in. 

This river goes up all the way to the Lake Chilika, 

Which I wish to see through my eyes;

The words of  Utkalamani* ring in my ears,

Which I read in the school recitation competition

Just before the rains came in.   

In the holy month of Kartik, 

My mother and I, along with others of the village

Take our small boats made up of banana bark,

And set them sail on this river, 

In the glory of the tradesmen of Odisha who sailed 

To distant lands like Sumatra, Bali and Java. 

I too wish to go,

When older I grow, 

But the rains have come in, 

The river has flooded among other things, my school. 

There are no classes, no play, 

My friends and teachers I miss too. 

O kind river, be kind once more,

Let the water go away to Chilika,

And the children go to school with joy. 

* Utkalamani Gopabandhu Das 

Work

There are days,
When we work,
And work much,
Without any rhyme
Or reason as such.

Too busy to be glad,
Too busy to be sad.
Moving from one thing,
One person, to the other,
Not knowing whether,
We loose or we gain.

All get mixed up,
All look the same,
Too far to future,
We can not see
No fruits of action in sight
We dig only in earnest right.

Friends and foes
Both forgiven and forgot.
Victory and Misery,
All relinquished.
Fame and defamation,
Cast aside like yesterday's flowers
From the body of temple deity.

Forward or backward,
We are not certain,
But we move,
And one this is certain,
We act, and We do,
We do it rather good.

besharm shayar

bada hi besharm hai ye shayar,

log kehte hain,

apne zakhm chupa lo,

duniya dekhegi to hasegi, mazaak udaegi,

kamzori ka fayeda bhi uthaegi.

par dekho, ye to apne zakhmon ko apne nazmon mein utar kar

unhe dikhata, padhta aur sunata phirta hai duniya mein.

 

sari kharashein saaf nazar ati hain iski

kyon na ho

pairahan jo halke shabdon ka hai?

ab khaab aur khaak ke beech ka faasla

is shayar ke hothon jitna hi hai.

uska dil aur chehra hi to wo safhe hain

jin par wo khoon-e-jigar ki syahi chipkata hai

bada besharam hai ye shayar

apne ruh ko jala kar din karta hai

apne nazmon mein apni raatein kaat-ta hai

है

क्या आप उसे जानते हैं ?

उसे जिसका कोई रूप नहीं है, जिसका कोई नाम भी नहीं है . 

जो कहीं से आया नहीं है और जिसे कहीं जाना भी नहीं है . 

जिसने आकाश और पृथ्वी पर बिखरे रंगों की होली को देखा, 

पर वह दृष्टी नहीं है . 

जिसने कोमल और कठोर शब्दों के निनाद को सुना 

पर श्रवण शक्ति वो नहीं है . 

प्रिय-अप्रिय गंधों का अनुभव किया 

पर वो घ्राण नहीं है . 

सारे रसों का आस्वादन किया 

पर वो रसना नहीं है . 

जड़-चेतन सभी को छुआ 

पर स्पर्श का अनुभव भी वो नहीं है . 

सुन्दर और वीभत्स विचारों को उसने देखा 

पर चंचल मन नहीं है वो . 

स्थूल-सूक्ष्म वस्तुओं को जांचा-परखा

पर वो बुद्धि भी नहीं है . 

सृजन-पालन और विनाश भी किया अनेकों बार

पर क्या वो महत अहम् नहीं था? 

उससे कई प्रेम करते थे, घृणा करते थे 

पर वो किसीका शत्रु या मित्र नहीं था . 

जिसने कई लोगों से सीखा और कुछ सिखाया भी 

पर ना वो गुरु था ना शिष्य . 

जन्म-मरण के चक्र से वो गुज़र चूका था 

पिता-पुत्र, के चरित्र निभा चूका था . 

जो निर्विकल्प और अद्वैत है 

जो सर्वत्र है , जो शाश्वत है 

जो था, जो है और जो कल भी होगा 

क्या उसे आप जानते हैं ?

Rat Race?

We all knew the saying
"The winner in a rat race is still a rat"
But, we all kept running all the same
For the bounty and the shameful fame,
Of being 'The' rat
Or the First among rats!

A mere piece of bread,
Thrown purport-fully to tempt,
Would never fail to agitate our lot,
Whether we got it nor not.
Some would run for fear,
Mostly imagined, never real.

Yet many would run,
Simply because, Many others are.
Too busy to ask 'Why?'
Or even think 'What for?'

There are a few who run
To get away from the tails of past.
After years of sweat,
Only get frustrated to find the past
Clinging on to them and moving just as fast!

Oh, the old puzzle is never old enough,
Of an onlooker trying to make out
"Who is ahead?"
"Who follows whom?"
In an ongoing race in a circle.

A race where the means and the ends
Are not in sight.
Eyes myopic, sense of smell ageing,
Blurs the sense of wrong and right.
Rats come and go,
Rats watch rats run,
Rats live and Die,
But rats never learn!

main na achha hua, bura na hua

main na achha hua, bura na hua...

(this line can only be written by inimitable Ghalib)

I have used this and completed the poem.

 

main na achha hua, bura na hua...

tere saath chal na saka,

ya saath tera naseeb na tha,

safar to tab bhi tanha guzar hua.

 

tu nazar andaaz kar na saka,

jinhe main nazron se dur kar na saka,

tera daaman chhota nahin

mera haah hi kaabil na hua

main na accha hua, bura na hua.

 

sifar se ummed bas sifar

kaafir se umeed bas kufr

kuchh nahi tha, chah bhi nahin,

tune jo chaha mere paas wo na hua.

 

jism ki zarooraton me sab-o-roz kat te the,
sunte the fakiri ki, ruh ki baatein,

insaan aur jaanwar mein fark kahan,

jab jism se main ruh na hua..

main na accha hua, bura na hua.

Main ya Tum

Ab sab kuchh tum Ho, aur sab kuchh tumse hai...
Subah ki dhoop ki garmi,
Drawing room ke neele parde se jhaankti hai,
Bistar tak aa kar, razai hata, chipak ke gale mil kar let jaati hai,
Wahan jahan tum so rahe the abhie.
Main samajh jaati hoon, tum abhie park me apne run ke liye gaye hoge.
Ab sab kuchh tum Ho, aur sab kuchh tumse hai...

Tum saath na Ho to daal feeki aur roti humesha kachhi hi lagti hai.
Par aaj, ab bhi bhook lag rahi hai.
Tumne lunch nahi kiya kya ab tak?
Chai bana doon?

Kabhi aaine se darti thi,
Aaj dopahar bhar baithi hoon,
Kai baar baal sawaare, shringar kiya, sindoor lagaya.
Tum jaldi ghar wapas aa rahe ho na?

Pata nahin aaj itni khush kyun hoon,
Tum yaad kar rahe Ho?
Ye muskuraahat bhi meri nahin, tumhaari hai.
Kal raat ko aise hi chale aaye the do aasoon,
Tum shayad udaas the?
Ek anjaana sa Dar tha, ya Koi bura sapna,
Chaha ki tumhare seene me chhup jaun,
Dekha to tum mere seene me sar rakh so rahe the.
Tum jaante Ho...
Ab sab kuchh tum Ho, aur sab kuchh tumse hai.

Sleeping humming bird

It is morning again, I say,
Look at the bright and fast day,
The city is moving in the roads,
And destiny is working its destined way.

A tired humming bird returns to its nest,

On the bosom of the horizon,
A fatigue-worn red sun takes rest,
Like a baby, innocent and mildly vulnerable,
You gently sink into my chest.

Untouched by the city and its ways,
A benign smile and breathing at calm pace,
Wrapped like a gift in purple blanket,
You sleep besides me and my life finds an humble base!

khaab

Raat bhar ek khaab ban leti rahi mere sirhaane;

Tamaam tare aasman ka aangan chhod kamre ki chhat se use dekhte rahe;
Chaand naraz tha, dekho kahin muh chuupa baitha hoga, kisi daryia ke kinaare.

Phoolon me ras bhi na pada aaj, uske surkh hoton me ghul rahe the jaane kitne hi rang.
Shabnam ki boondein, uske maathe ke paseene bane hue the, nanhi kopalon ne subeh shikayat ki.
Pahadi ki nadi bhi raat ko taaron ki madham roshni me uske laton ka naksha utara,
'hum bhi aise hi lehrana chahti hain, behna chahti hain, ulajhna chahti hain!'
Par neend ke khulte hi, khaab aur uska na hona bhi lazmi tha!

weekend

dedicated to the inverted ratio of 2:5

-------
friday ke 4 baj te hi,

hoton se hafte bhar gayab
haasi ka wapas aana,

doston ke numbers
jo 'last dialled calls'
se gayab se hone lage the,
unhe phir se dial karna.

newspaper ke safhe palat palat kar
stock prices aur headlines ke badle
theatre, music aur art galleries
ke events check karna,

chun ke kapde almari se bahar nikaal na,
long walks pe jana,
early mornings uth na, (early can be swapped with late!!)
jam ke khana and wine peena,

tera weekend ki tarah aana,
aur aakar chale jaana.
kya bura hota agar
tu aur weekend, dono reh jaate!



.

Bade Ho Kay kya Banoge?

Khudi to thi humaare paas,

Par Khud ko kabhi banaya na tha.

Papa fakr se kehte
'Aji..humaara ladka to 'Ye' banega!'
Aur 'Ye' waqt ke saath badal ta raha.
'Jo bhi ban..par ek accha insaan ban'
Maa kehti.
'Mere fancy dress competition me
Mujhe ek gadha chahiye, aap banoge?'
Behan ne laad se poochha ek din.


Teachers akad te
'Student ho...
student hi ban ke raho'
'Abe O...Itna mat ban'
Dost log naraaz hote to kehte.
Theatre ke director to
Har rehearsal se pehle poochhte
'Is baar kya ban ne wale ho?'


Naam ke aage peeche
Chand Akshar jode,
Graduate Bane,
Post-Graduate bhi bane...
Phir naukri karne lage,
To naukar bhi bane!

Tum ne us raat, jab dheere se
Sehmi aakhon se poochha,
'Tum mere ban ke rahoge na?'
Mano is ban ne, bana ne
Ke udhed-bun se chhoota,
Tumse kuchh kaha nahin tha maine tab,
'Haan, yahi ban ke rahunga'

Kuchh Benaam Nazmein

Aaa baadlon ki saahil pe nange paon bhaagen,
Thoda aasmaan chalkayen, 'chapaak' se ek doosre par,
Kisi baade se baadal par tek lagaa kar baithen aur
Kuchh tasveren banaye aapni ungliyon se aasman ke canvass par.
Kisi redi par chalke kale khatte ki chuski khareeden aur
Chuski lete hue awaazon ko sun kar dheere dheere muskurayen.
Ye dekho, ek plane laambi si taar chhod gayi hai,
Aa isi ka bana kar jaala, lal-lal suraj ko pakden subeh-subheh,
Aur thak jo jayen chalte-chalte to raat ke seene pe sar rakh ke so jayen!

(1)

Chand chhup chhup ke dekhne ki koshish karta raha,
Kali ghataon ne parda jo kar rakha tha,
Ret ne apni sufead qaleen bhi bichha di thi,

Lehron ne apne sur aur tal saja liye the,
Nadi apna bulawaa bhej rahi thi,
Vaadi ka kohra nadi ke aangan me baith tha,
Waqt khamosh apne hi saath masroof tha,

Besabri ka nahin;
Ik sukoon ka, ik itmenaan ka intezar tha;
Raat, raat bhar ko nadi me khone ko,
Pahadon ke kandhon ke sahare
Dheere dheere utar rahi thi.

(2)

To GUR-GAON

Calling you a village would be an insult:
No! not to you, but to the villages
That boast of bountifuls of water, space, trees and air!
So, my dear city
Of dust, dungeons and the damned,
Of pervert opulence of matter
And deplorable deprivation of spirit;
Of smiling motors and frowning faces,
Who rides whom, you wonder in a traffic jam.

Of towering money factories of concrete and glass,
And of the roofs of blue, torn sheets
And floor of dust of those who make them.
Of people advising others in other shores
To make/save another billion,
But hagge to save the ten rupees off the rickshaw puller!

Of caffeine powered hyperactive nights,
And drowzy blues of morning;
Of planned accidents and unplanned meetings,
And of shuffling priorities and
Swinging opportunities;
Of crawling pace on roads
And racing aspirations on laptops and smartphones.

Of people trying to hide their emptiness
By wrapping themselves, in a mall
Filled objects they need not at all.
Of blurring lines of GO and STOP,
Of pouring spirits to dry throats
From a glass bit by bit,
Of vain attempts to fill an emptiness of spirit.

Haar jeet

Main tanhai ke saath apni ladai haar gaya, bilkul tanha jo tha; Aur dekha to wo bhi haari hui thi,naadan mere saath jo thi.

A little boy's first flight

O invisible weaver, where are you?
I can see the bright blue roof of your hut,
One big red wheel in the east, Another small silver coloured in the west,
Both move round and round without stop.
Huge heaps of cotton - white and black and grey,
Why scattered all around your hut  say?
Won't the birds sit on them and spoil them all?

So large is your house and you have no windows, no doors, weaver sir, won't the thieves steal all the cotton?

So much cotton and no workmen to help you lord? You must be working all night and all day.
Pray, whom for do you make clothes master, What do they pay ?

Are they good to you - your buyers? Are they kind or do they cheat? Master, I am a little boy and I know less,
But I will learn fast: keep me as your workman and bless !!

dark comfort

I shrink into the warmth of darkness-
Tired, afraid, forlorn, disappointed.

This blanket, comforts me,
I can see no form, no objects.
Neither can anyone see me
Or my ugly attempts
At being beautiful.

This color renders an equality,
Forces a tyranny of uniformity,
Denounces the brilliant,
And absolves mediocrity.

Like an indulgent mother
Pats my head to sleep,
When the fire of light
Is dancing with mouth open mouth,
Like a dragon to swallow me and mine.
I peep briefly and then,
I shrink into the warmth of darkness-
Tired, afraid, forlorn, disappointed.

unwanted choice

O Infinite Mercy!
Why should your grace
Wait for sincerity in my call?
Whether I want You
Or your gifts distracting,
Should you not come?

When You gave this to me -
Weak will and strong temptations,
Should there be any doubt on results
Of this futile one-sided tussles?

When you have cast me out,
Driven me away from Your home,
Why do you grin in mock
At vain wondering and restless search.

Did you also give me speech and words
And poetry and voice to see
My crooked attempts to
Please You through them?

All I ask, not sure of an answer;
"When separation from You
Was not my choice,
Why Union Is?"

Writing something after a long time. Again, poor with naming my poems. Hope the silent horizons will speak more often and speak well. Amen!

tough call

Hate me when I say
'I can't go on anymore'.
Scorn me when I pity myself
And justify my failures.
Turn away in disgust
If you see me miserable
And snap at my hand
Out-stretched and begging for help.

In my eyes, if you ever see helplessness
Swear to me, that you will corner me further.
If you see something in me vulnerable,
Expose it to the naked daylight of the world.
If i am pleading, lying down on ground,
Trample me under your feet.
And along with that squeeze out
The last vestige of weakness.
As then, all that would remain
Would be strength, strength, strength.