Friday, 16 September 2011

YOU.......

Your life today is a success saga;
told, retold and oft applauded.
Or a montage misplaced , forlorn;
even torn and never vaunted.
Endowed by souls known, unknown;
shadows, silhouettes, blurring and gone.

There is no say,
           there is no bar;
on what might clout your heart.

But the reminiscences treasured are your art.
Your selection your collage.

What you choose to portray,
what you choose to forgo,
colour your life as a rainbow,
or enshroud it in shadows.
You are the aisle,
you are the support.
You are the crafty creator,
of the hues that shape YOU.

The Fib Lived.......

A fib survived and severed apart,
the reminiscences of faith and fondness.
I lived the lie and plunged across,
the abysmal turbulence, the callousness.
Censure, guilt, remorse waves
live on and lash across the years.
And I realize,
it wasn't a fib after all.
It still breathes within me,
abler than the truth that engulfed.


Tuesday, 13 September 2011

मैं ...............

बरस जाऊं तो मेघ हूँ
तरस जाऊं तो सजल बनूँ
चपल चंचल ज्यों पतंग
सरल शीतल जैसे चन्द्र
ह्रदय है विषुवत का वन
नैन पारदर्शी घन
समुद्र सी शांत स्थिरता
रत्नों से बनी सरिता
ये दो पृष्ठों की पुस्तक
हर पृष्ठ में शत सप्तक
गहन अंधकार के मध्य
प्रज्वलित लौ एक दिव्य
ये उस लौ की संरक्षिनी
ये है जीवनदायिनी
बस एक अबल अक्षम स्त्री
या सबल सक्षम सृष्टि.
 

           
    

कुछ सपने, कुछ यादें



कुछ सपने, कुछ यादें
कुछ भंवर जाल सी राहें;
बुने हुए थे,
चुने हुए थे,
किस्से हमने सुने हुए थे.
पलकों के पीछे से रिस कर,
कक्षा के कुछ चंचल बालक,
 मीठी दूब का स्वाद परखने,
नीले नभ का व्यास आंकने,
कुछ धुंधले; कुछ श्याम सुनहरे.
जल तरंग संग बाँध की मिटटी.
शीत ऋतू की कंटक बूँदें.
विष बाण सी कुछ बेधती,
गुदगुदाती, कुछ सुलगाती,
कुछ बिन कारण ही टटोलती.
मानस के आनिन्द्य पटल पर 
कुछ सपनें, कुछ यादें,
कुछ भंवर जाल सी राहें.  
      

 
 

Friday, 9 September 2011

Shackles of Desires

Why does life try us,
in myriad modes and ways?
Why does it pine,
for one that's astray?

Desires beacons, glitter, glow,
impish twinkles of far off stars.
Softly cuddling, kindling,
pushing sealed doors ajar.

Are they Angels or the rays,
or a mob of puckish elves?
Behold the spell on saner minds,
till they know no sense, no self.

Why is melody voice of one,
yen is what the one desires?
The only vision eyes of one,
 those eyes like purging pyre.

Slumber, an estranged ally,
her destination your proximity.
Hold me close, send her back,
unshackle my sagacity.

Mercy God of all desires,
cease this baneful game.
Isn’t your niche that far off star
isn’t love thy name?

देव ..................... मेरा बेटा

 

वो तुमसे है सुनता, तुम्ही सा है दिखता
तुम्हारी ही आँखों से तारे वो गिनता

नन्ही सी बाहें फूलों की डाली
खुशबू से  उसकी आँगन महकता

 उनींदी सी  आँखों में सूरज की लाली
 तुम्हारी हथेली से सपने वो चुनता

 छाया तुम्हारी, तुम्हारा है दर्पण
 तुम्हारे ही  बल से बनता वो सक्षम

जो आज हो तुम, वो कल वो बनेगा
 तुमसे है जन्मित तुम्ही से सजेगा

A Drop of Rain

A drop of rain on my tongue,
to quench the thirst of lips.
A taste of stars, a feel of sun;
a new life in each sip.

A drop of rain on the palm,
to keep it fresh and charged.
An arm to lift lowly spirits;
with strength to win all wars.

A drop of rain on my nose,
to keep it cool and tickling.
A nerve to brave the perils;
an aim to go on rising.

A drop of rain in my hairs,
wrapping the weary child.
A mother's arm, the dewy charm;
a treasure chest of smiles.

A drop of rain on my heart,
high and rhyme of moonstruck tide.
Of fantasies and dreams concealed,
passion, amour and stellar eyes.

A drop of rain on my feet,
to soothe the haggard soles.
A blazing path, a thorny tread;
all agonies lost as hurled stones.

जज्बा

 
बियाबान रात की चांदी

 एक चिराग होता है,

सुर्ख सपनों का ये आतिश

यकायक खाक होता  है

वो एक टीस, एक एहसास 

दिल को आबाद रखता है 

मंजिलें हैं अभी कुछ और

यही बस याद रहता है

फासलों के  परे जाज़िब 

कदम में चाप रखता है





 

Thursday, 8 September 2011

Once Upon Time

Once upon a time there lived an ugly princess, petite & plain. No her name was not Fiona, but unpretty, and unsuave she was. Then the need of the fairy tale brought forth a prince charming, and the princess who was not Fiona, was wooed & won by the prince charming. So the newlyweds embarked on an expedition of marital bliss. THE END; not yet. This is the fairy tale beginning of my fairy tale. An initiation into an odyssey of exploration - some smooth sojourns, some pulsating pursuits and few lessons learned.