Sanjh

 साँझ को भी थोड़ा 

आराम करने दो

ढलते सूरज का बोझ उठाया है जिसने  

पेड़ की शीतल छाँव में 

एक नींद झपकने दो 

साँझ को भी थोड़ा 

आराम करने दो 

रात, सुबह से फिर मिल सकेगी 

स्वप्न की चादर हटा 

नयी शुरुआत कर सकेगी 

साँझ लेकिन, दिन-रात का बिछड़ना है 

अंततः इसे अकेले ही लौटना है 

घर के बंद दरवाज़े खोल

इसे आवास करने दो

साँझ को भी थोड़ा 

आराम करने दो 

सुबह है सूरज की लालिमा 

और रात को चाँद की शीतलता 

साँझ का न अपना रूप 

न कोई रंग

इसे अपनी एक पहचान बनाने दो 

ढलते सूरज का बोझ 

उठाया है जिसने  

साँझ को भी थोड़ा 

आराम करने दो

कई किनारे छोड़ दिए

तुझे पाने की चाह में
ए जिन्दगी,
मैंने सैलाबों पर चलना सीख लिया,
गर तू ना मिली आखिर
तेरी खोज को मुकाम समझ लेंगे।

Wild Rose

सर्द की परछाई में
सैकड़ों पेड़ कांटे हो जाएंगे
नदियां बर्फ और रास्ते बंद हो जाएंगे
फ़िर किसी सुबह
वादियों का एक गुलाब
इन्हीं कांटों में अपनी रूह पकड़
खिल उठेगा
और इस सियाह ओ सफेद को
अपना रंग देकर आरुश कर देगा

I may have my ups and down
I may be a silent moon
Or a violent sun
But with you my darling
I am always young

Where the sun walks

And the shadows tell a story

From the past

Where laughter of friends

Echo in the wind

And where oceans splash

Colors of joy

I will extend my arm

And pull you

Into my surreal world

Society, let us be
Let us uncover our skin
And show you
Who we truly are
The layers on us have thickened
It's has become hard to believe
It's has become hard to breathe
So many of us
Hiding behind those walls
Digging slowly to be part of you all
Let us burn down these walls for once
And come out strong
We will stand tall
And make you proud
Just, let us be

Oh, my watchful friend
Will you hold my hand
And walk beside me
Into my soulful land

I am lost and scared
Into that gentle night
Searching for meaning and purpose
Without a hint of light

Until now,
It's been a hard life
Without much answers
Only wasteful lies

But if you walk with me
I may still have a chance
To dream and to be truly live
Without a second glance

With you beside me
I will start over again
Fearlessly, I will walk
Into that mighty sun

Oh, my watchful friend
Will you hold my hand
And walk beside me
Into my soulful land

Nothing much has changed
Since the time she left
My body - unaltered
My soul still the same

The magic is on
My hands are in the air
And my legs move in sync
They dance,
Like the flames of candle


My fingers touch the guitar
And lips rhyme poetry
My spirit is high
Thinking she might just come home
Hearing my country voice

To go over the time
That has gone by
When we were young
What it was like to be
By yourself
What it was to be alive
And not indulge
In the moment's chaos

I have not forgotten
To be surrounded by silence
And hear my heart beat
In the sunny afternoon
On a mountain top
Facing my fears
By myself

Between,
A rambling youth
And a furious adult
Innocence was lost
One followed the other
And what remained
Was an old man
Tired to his bones
Today, after years
His body and soul
Rejoiced in the darkness
When he heard the cry
As he recalled the lost innocence
He stood up and walked
Towards his new born
Granddaughter

Dreams

एक कहानी
यही चली आती
देर रात, करवटो में
और खिलखिलाती
मेरे सपनो के पन्ने पलट
बिना किसी आहट
ज़िंदा कर देती
उन मुरझाये ख्यालों को
जिनकी रफ़्तार पकड़
मैंने चलना सीखा था 

Patience

इंतज़ार और इकरार का एक ही धर्म - धैर्य 

Technology

पेन पेपर छोड़
अब मोबाइल का सहारा ले लिया है
सुबह की चाय से लेकर
रात की करवट भी
अब स्क्रीन देखकर गुज़र जाता है
किताब, जो लिखनी थी बरसों से
उसके हिस्से का वक़्त अब
दुसरो के ब्लॉग पढ़कर गुज़रता हूँ 

एक तिनके की चिंगारी में
रिश्तों की पेटी जल गयी
तुम्हारे कुछ खत भी थे उनमें
चादर को तह कर छुपाये थे जो मैंने
जिन्हे पढ़,
सुकून की उबासियाँ लेता था
अब जाने रात नींद कैसे आएगी 

अधूरा ही सही

थमा हूँ
रुका नहीं

हताश हूँ
हारा नहीं

कमज़ोर  हूँ
नाकाबिल  नहीं

अलग  हूँ
अकेला नहीं

ज़िंदा हूँ
मृत  नहीं

सपना हूँ
अधूरा ही सही 

Oh, I have just woken up
From the grave
My equations concealed by clouds
Are now transformed
Simple yet beautiful
Like a dawn
This mystical universe
Which I carried underneath
Now speaks the truth
Through my skin
And I know
That my science
Is real

kal ka khayal

घर की ऊंची दीवार पर
कीमती तस्वीर जो लगाई थी ।
ज़िन्दगी जीने के मायने
कुछ नई तरकीबें बनाई थी ।

आज सूनी पड़ी चारपाई पर
एक सुकून की नींद जो आयी थी ।
आंगन की अंधेरी रातों में
तारों ने होली मनाई थी ।

दोस्तों के इरादों पर
एक क्रिकेट की टीम जो बनाई थी ।
हर हार के जस्न पर
गरमा गरम जलेबी खाई थी ।

जग्गू चाचा थे
जो अपनी साइकिल दे दिया करते थे ।
पापा भी कभी कभी
पॉकेट मनी डबल कर दिया करते थे ।

मम्मी ने एक दिन मुझे बताया
उनका भी एक सपना था ।
रसोई से बाहर निकल
उनको भी डॉक्टर बनना था ।

एक कमिना यार भी था
जो मेरे नाम की माला जप्ता था ।
किताबों के खाली पन्नों में
एक चित्र बनाया करता था ।

इन्हीं कुछ लम्हों की
आज याद सी कुछ आई थी
घर की ऊंची दीवार पर
कीमती तस्वीर जो लगाई थी ।

अकेला था

चांदनी थी, रौशनी थी,
इस क्रोधित जड़ैया में लेकिन, मखमली घाम न था

स्वाद था, ज़ायका था
इस परोसी थाली में लेकिन, एक चुटकी खारा न था

साँसें चल रहीं थी बरसों से,
इस भीनी खुसबू का लेकिन, कोई इशारा न था

आँखों के परदे तो थे कई,
यूँ पलके छुपाने का लेकिन, कोई इरादा न था

आवाज़ थी, पुकार थी
यूँ बैठ जाये भीतर लेकिन, कोई अनुवाद न था

अकेला था, कोई दूसरा न था
इतना तनहा होगा मिलना लेकिन, ये एहसास न था

तलाश थी, जुस्तजू थी
अंत ही माटी हो लेकिन, ये बर्दाश्त न था 

Time Flies

You wonder where time flies and fall back upon memories to take you back in time.

How different were you, when you first started school or when you first rode your bi-cycle? Your friends from school, some of who are still standing by your side. Your friends from college who are proud of you today. The day you got married, holding hand of someone who promised to be your friend for life, you took a leap of faith and promised him the same. Your kids, first time when your heard them cry. Their first step holding your hands and when the first time you dropped them to school, leaving a part of yourself at the school gate wondering if your little one is doing alright.

Life goes on . . .  and some of these memories become a part of your soul.

And a few others that you live carelessly.

Like, smelling a red rose.

Like, reading your favourite author while sipping a cup of tea. Planting a seed and watch it grow flowers in time. A dog bathing and yawning in the sun after a cold night. A lonely walk in the garden. Meditating and realizing your uniqueness. Sound of your children playing in the veranda. Gently holding hands of your partner with a feeling that everything will fall in place if you have him by your side and to have company of your parents when your world is falling apart.

Sometimes, it’s not about how old or how long have your lived. Sometimes, it’s just about small moments worth your lifetime.

The Watchman

I don’t know his name yet, but I want to tell you about him as I see his face everyday. When I go to work, when I come back home in the evening or, afternoons during the weekends when I go to the market. His face is not attractive, its not unpleasant either, but his uniform surely does not compliment his age. He must be younger or of the same age as mine.

He works 12 hours a day siting on a plastic chair and old rusty desk provided by the so called housing society. But I am pleased to see the he has a desk to himself on which he maintains a register and the drawer to lock his personal belongings. Recently, CCTVs were installed and he was the most excited person in the entire building as this allowed him to get away from his desk for a little longer if he desired.

He is fond of cricket and is always ready to strike upon a conversation with the inmates having good knowledge on the sport. He is a patriot in a true sense: one can seen him jump with excitement or heated with anger post match results. Usually his large screen phone keeps him company. He likes to indulge with his small circle of friends on Facebook, many of them he has never met or known in real life. He claims to have followers on Twitter too. And not to forget, he survives on youtube and such channels to enjoy streaming of good old melodies and live streaming of his favorite sport. From my recent interactions with him, which are very rare, I remember him enquire about a spare guitar after he heard me play near the window. To engage him, I offered to arrange a guitar for him, of which I am reminded now and then.

He sleeps in one of the servant quarters at the terrace of our building and given he has no privilege of holidays, it would not be wrong to assume that he is bored and looking for company. But I cannot be his friend. No one in the building can. He is never invited to our house and neither is he a part of our festivals, no matter how much his contributions to bring our celebrations to life. For us, he is a distant stranger and yet the one we see everyday bounded by his duty to guard us and the so called society. Occasionally, we offer him money during festivals or New year eve as a form of goodwill and gesture, assuming money is something he is deprived of the most. He smiles back at us with a thank you and we know our job is done. He deserves more than just our money. He deserves companionship.

And may he find the little joys of comfort in your passing by hello's. Companionship is priceless!