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e-paper - Yahoo! Jagran

Not tired....

Even I get tired sometimes
and need resorting to illusions
like the elevated sand dunes
I am ready to sacrifice my identity
to the power of the wind
hoping I’ll be the next sunderban..
Even I get tired sometimes
of the long horny days
that stay there
very much like the endless desert
with breaks appearing like the mirage
with illusionary attractions..
even I get tired sometimes
with concocted identities
all around
like swollen effigies
smiling with suspense
as if the prey
has fallen in place..
even I get tired sometimes
of pessimistic reactions
from optimistic people
like the sand-clock
waiting to be turned upside down
to let the moments clicking
so that I may feel
I m living
I too get tired sometimes
and hunt for rest
That I may heal my
ailing heart
I get tired
but then I realise
its not the time
to stop
I have to reach
to the top
Of all adversities
and there is yet
a lot of distance
to be covered
the peak is yet to be discovered..
and as I near the destination
I see its just a station,
a temporary halt to sit & pause
to look for a different cause
when one is attained
there are still peaks to conquer,
acme’s to climb…
there’s another battle to be won..
this day has another sun
peeping through the mountains
of opportunities
I cannot be tired
I can no more cease
To rest
taming the unrest
I have to move

on & on
On& on…..

Life'Abyss'

12th December-2008

कुछ उपले थापति औरतें

आज मैने देखीं

कुछ उपले थापति औरतें

कुछ लोकगीत गुनगुनाती

सुनहरी धूप में जैसे

अपनी परछाई से बतियाती

कुछ औरतें

उन्हें याद है अपने घर का रास्ता

दिल्ली, मुंबई, महाराष्ट्रा से उनका क्या वास्ता

वो हैं कुछ उपले थापति औरतें

अनपढ़, गँवार औरतें

जो घर जाकर खाना बनाएँगी

और माँजेगी बर्तन

पर यदि गावों में चोर आ जाए

तो हाथ में दराती लेकर

खड़ी हो जाती हैं ये औरतें

नहीं डरती किसी परिणाम से

पीछे नहीं हटती

सर पे दुपट्टा बाँध कर

करती हैं मुक़ाबला

वे हमारी -आपकी तरह नहीं हैं

बेबस-लाचार

उन्हें प्यारा है अपना परिवार

वे नहीं हैं नपुंसक

हमारी तरह

जो टीवी पर देखते ह

ैंबर्बादी का मंज़र

और सो जातें हैं

अपना घर चोर के हवाले कर

सुबह कोसते हैं उन्हीं चोरों को

हमें दिल्ली, मुंबई सबसे है वास्ता

पर शायद हम भूल रहें हैं

अपने घर का रास्ता...............

Life'Abyss'

11th December' 2008

WAKE UP......

There were families
waiting for their dear ones to return
hoping they will..
There was a daughter
who thought her mother
would join her for dinner
thinking she would be hungry
There was this man
who just cracked a business deal
and was eager to throw a party
rejoicing his achievement
There was a child
holding his mothers hand tight
as she would still take him along
he was too young to feel the numbness..
There was this daring officer
who thought
he was dressed enough to kill
not realising
he was to do his family proud
with ultimate sacrifice…
there was this man
who always controlled his vehicle
but today
there was someone else
driving his destiny…
There were they
who couldn’t understand the language
but knew time has come…
still there were they
with death in hands
with faces covered
moving like humans,
killing their victims
as if they were playing a game
which was to be won
with ended lives..
They showed no mercy
they had no heart .
for them everyone was equal
as they killed with equal brutality…
and WE
sat there glued to the TV
watching the soap..
reading newspapers, magazines
and everything, sympathising
with those who were slained
agonizing those who slained…
we talked and talked more..
waiting for the channels
to change the lead story
that we may get another topic…
Shame on us
Is this is not enough
Why are we quiet ?
because the dead do not belong to us
or we do not belong to them..
because it happened
somewhere away
and we wait the threat come nearer…
because we are habitual
of terror
like the hare
who closes its eyes
thinking no one’s noticing it
Why are we..?
So that a handfull of ruffians
Can have someone to terrorise
Or there is someone to sympathise
For the dead
Shame
Wake up
This may be the last call…
Wake up
Before they finish it all..
Wake up
Before our families weep
Wake up
That we may sleep

Life’Abyss’
Nov. –3rd-2008

Just like that ....

Just like that
someone whispered
a sweet phrase
telling me
life was so simple
Just like that
I agreed to the point
without thinking
and realised
life was
just like that
a thought came to my mind
that why do I find
myself surrounded by thoughts
Weird and wild
like a child
why do I think
just like that…
like a ripple in the water
I spread myself to the extreme
ready to touch the soil
not realizing
I’ll lose myself
just like that
I throng the ray of hope
like the innumerable
tiny creatures
hovering around
the lighted bulb
just like that
sometimes I feel
why solitude is reserved for those
who really do not find
it that necessary
who search for it
just like that
we spend our lives
yearning for something
we usually ignore
when it comes to us
just like that
and then we realise
its gone
just like that
like time vanishing
to eternity
leaving us empty handed
exactly like the way we arrived
just like that
I fear losing someone & something
I never owned
I stood there
in complete individuality
and I dreamt
it was my part
and would never depart
just like that
I lived in the moment
considering the moment was mine
until the shine
faded away
just like that
I think & think
does my life has a purpose ?
or was I born
just like that
I realise,
to fight is wise
than giving up to circumstances
afterall we are the creators
and we cant let them loose
to give us bruise
of defeat
just like that
and now ,
I just………............
....................................
Like that.

Life”abyss”October 4th’ 2008

An Empty Page......

Empty Page.............
.................
I love
the empty page
as like a sage,
it holds nothing
and is always ready
to sacrifice its emptiness,
like our echo its our own,
yet away
waiting for someone
to spray colors of joy
or even invite someone
to write a few non rhyming lines
as these
an empty page
that holds
a whole story in itself
left un-narrated,
unread, untold
waiting for someone
to unfold
the same
with creative thoughts
choosing spots
in the empty page
that holds within itself
the power of self
like the saint
shining with wisdom
of unspoken words
winning the battle
without any swords
without any fight
it always remains quiet
like a void
just attracting
its followers
to create a new cult
like an adult
it displays maturity
holding your hand
like a guardian
showing you the way
so that you may not sway
away from glory
narrating a silent story
of its own
the empty page
like a cage
is ready to enslave
you in the chain
of thoughts
& I love the fetters
invoking creativity
out of nothing
like
the empty page
giving meaning
to its emptiness
which is now filled
with a few lines
of random thoughts
poured into it
emptying someones mind
& now
I love the empty page even more
as it reflects my mind
ready to unwind
the whole story
to the world
that I hold
within myself
Just like the …….
……………Empty page….
6th Nov.-2008

Shadows....

Shadows.........
Shadows
They give me love
Standing by me
always.......
I love them too
giving them recognition
afterall
they belong to me
Shadows…
lengthy sometimes
and flexible
ready to mix
anywhere
with anything
they know their art
forever smart
shadows….
Sometimes short
ready to abort
any danger
they don’t compete
with my figure
showing the same vigour
in times good and bad
they remain glad
you don’t see them
in the dark
perhaps
you don’t feel the spark
of Self Sacrifice
I say...
“believe me”
they never leave me
They never depart
Instead in the darkness
they become my part
And that is the time

I need them the most….