Jul 15, 2011

एक कविता कर ले रे मन


क्यों दर्द को इतना मन में भरने लगते है हम
क्यों ना इक कविता करके उसे बहने दें हरदम,
उस दर्द का एहसास भी बस प्यार के जैसा ही है
उस प्यार के एहसास को क्यों घुट-घुट के मरने देते हैं हम ?

--

तेरी ख़ुशी में होके शामिल हर जाम पिया महफ़िल में . .
तुझे हंस के अलविदा कहा तो क्या दर्द नहीं था दिल में?
फिर भी तेरी याद में अक्सर खुद को खो लेते हैं
कोई रोता हमे न देखे, सो बारिश में रो लेते हैं . . .

May 18, 2010

उदास (Sad)


आँखों में आस है
दिल में भी प्यास है
जाने फिर क्यों मेरा मन
आज बहुत उदास है

चलता रहा एक रास्ते पे
दोस्त नहीं यार नहीं
उड़ता रहा हवाओं में
पर्वतों की छाओं में

सब कुछ है एक सा
वही सब पुराना है
फिर भी कुछ ख़ास है
और मेरा मन आज कुछ उदास है

Sad

Feb 27, 2009

मिलन



शीत के घुँघरू, ग्रीष्म की झुनझुन,
डाल पे कू-कू पंछी का कलरव,
सुबह का सूरज लाल सा हरदम,
शीत की धूप का शीतल अनुभव।

रात्रि दुलहन की याद में हरपल,
विरह वेदना से अति चंचल,
दिनभर ताप के ताप को सहता,
प्रेमी की भाँति धरा का आँचल।

रात से पहले शाम की खुशबू,
शाम का सपना, पवन है मद्धम,
काली घटा की साड़ी में लिपटी,
रात की कोमल देह की कंपन।

हाथों में चूड़ी, पैरों में पायल,
अति सुसज्जित रात की दुलहन,
पायल की झंकार से गूँजित,
अश्रु से भीगा धरा का आँगन।

धीरे-धीरे इस हवा में बहता,
हवा में बहता, इस धरा पे बहता,
अँधकार का परदा, आगे बढता,
आगे बढता, गिरता रहता।

बाहों में बाहें डाले जब-जब,
करे चुंबन, करे आलिंगन,
रात्रि और इस धरा का मिलना,
अति सुंदर एवम् अति पावन।

समय नहीं एक रेखा पथ भर,
चक्र की भाँति घूमे हरदम,
कल के बाद आज का आना,
रात के बाद ताप का आना,
कठोर पिता सा करे विदाई,
दुलहन का जाना, दिन का आना।

संपूर्ण हुआ यह मिलन सुनहरा,
वाष्प की भाँति गया अँधेरा,
विरह विषाद विदाई के संग-संग,
सूर्य की किरणें लाईं सवेरा।
One of my old poems revisited, on the inner questioning thought.

मिथ्या


क्या है जीवन, क्या है लक्ष्य,
क्या है इस जीवन का लक्ष्य,
क्या है इन श्वासों का मतलब,
क्या वह जीवन व्याख्या है?

अजब है अचरज, अजब अचंभा,
इस दुनिया का गोरखधंधा,
जिस आयाम में रहता है,
अनभिज्ञ उसी से रहता है,
जिस नौका में बहता है,
नही जानता वह क्या है।

जीबन क्या है नही जानता,
जीना क्या है नही जानता,
जीवन जीना आखिर क्या है,
पूरा जीवन नही जानता।

सत्य की खोज में जाता है,
दिग्भ्रम हर क्षण पाता है,
हर्षित, पूलकित, मुर्छित, चिंतित,
हर भाव विकल कर जाता है।

सोता है उठ जाता है,
उठकर फिर सो जाता है,
हर सुर्य अस्त हो जाता है,
हर पूष्प इक दिन मुरझाता है,
मानव जन्म जो पाता है,
हर ऍक क्रिया दोहराता है।

सोमवार से रविवार तक,
रविवार से शनिवार तक,
वर्ष के बारह मास में रहता,
जीवन के हर वर्ष को सहता,
क्षण क्षण करके दिन है बनता,
दिन दिन वर्ष बन जाता है।

ना यह है विधि का विधान,
ना कोई ईश्वर आज्ञा है,
मां की गोद से चिता की अग्नि,
यही बस जीवन व्याख्या है।


Feb 17, 2009

ओस



कुछ चाँद सितारों की, कुछ सुबह के सूरज सी
कुछ आँख मिचोली करती वह हवा जो पूरब की ...

कुछ नील गगन सा जल, कुछ प्रेम सा शीतल फल,
कुछ लोहे के पत्तों सा, ईटों का यह जंगल.

ख्याल तू मीठा सा, या झूठ है अच्छा सा
तेरे मृगनयनों से मेरे मन का तार है सच्चा सा

तू सुबह की ठंडी ओस है या रात की बारिश है
तू उड़ के हवा ना बन जाना यह मेरी गुजारिश है ....

The Bounty Smoker



Insatiable, the grand-mom’s fable
Pink is apple..apple on the table
The Knife when glides, the knight is alive
But knight is the savior, of night’s own life

Light bow for kill, Cross bow arrow,
blood getting spurted through wings of the sparrow
the smoker had the bullet, his rifle had the barrel
his lips were smirking, his eyes were narrow

he weighed it, eyed it
seven times sized it
when the bird screamed and cried
he seven times smiled it

Light bow for kill, Cross bow spear
blood getting spurted through belly of the deer
the smoker had the bullet, his gun had her fun
his lips still smirking, his isn’t yet done

he weighed it, eyed it
seven times sized it
when the prey screamed and cried
he seven times smiled it

Light bow for kill, Cross bow’s span
blood getting spurted through head of a man?
the smoker had the bullet, the people cheered loud,
he the savvy smoker, has done them proud

he weighed it, eyed it
seven times sized it
when the man cursed and died
he seven times smiled it

they ran through the gates, through the gates they just ran
he the son of man, has just killed a man…

Feb 16, 2009

Her smile, one last time



White is the cord that held the baby
The mother’s life, sails to her baby
The cord is cut, the baby cries
Her mother smiles, her mother cries

A smile is born, a tear is born,
with lie of a life, truth of death is born,
the nurses cry, a girl is born

father cries, the grandmother cries,
all the glitter breaks and dies…

the mother screams, the mother’s sad
and in her body, a mother is dead
she fights with herself a little while
she tries to put a brazen smile..

“I admit I am no use, no use at all
I admit I am guilty of this gory crime
Still I ask for a wish fulfilled
let me see her for one last time”

Golden fire



Neural network, funeral artwork,
is he a swords-man or is he a farmer?
falcon is flying faster and farther,
sands in his hands keeps getting darker

monotonic, empty razzle dazzle
green notes in green embezzle
crazy storm cries out,
her lovely tears – dry out?
Dark and dark, simple cave,
Filthy bats fly out?

I wanna go to nasty party
I wanna go to dirty party
sew a pretty dress for me,
knit a glitzy cap for me,
brew a saucy spray for me
don’t forget to pray for me
don’t forget to pray for me

Feb 15, 2009

Infinite Absurd…

















(The fabric runs and runs through my thoughts and it's orange threads, so cleanly start to weave, a dress getting readied ...so....)


a mirror breaks into

pieces of wood chopped

her head brutally shakes…


she gets readied, they get steadied,

her tears of joy just get added to

the heart in her

bosom so firm and padded…


the grass of her garden is

black plate and black cup of

tea and coffee are two sisters that

weep and creep, swim and scoff…


her eyes gleam and

scream is heard and a thunderbird

flies the sky the orphan sky, whose father

left and right is the voice unheard…


I write the right as I left the left,

like the past poet’s grandiose theft,

her hair disheveled her cloth unkempt

its really you or some monk just dreamt?

No, it's not



Its so dirty, so murky, so dark yet quirky
we go to the island alone, we ship to the island alone

the water is quieter, the wind is blue
where went the moon, no star has a clue

look at the murky mansion, that i mentioned in the day
made of burnt blemished bricks of burnt blemished clay.

i row and you sit and smile, then i sit and you smile and row
look the lovely albatross, the mighty sea-crow
when i sit quiet and sob, i cry a saddy song
the whole night cries with me, the whole night long

here comes the island bank, the pitch dark land
our nostrils fill themselves with scent of grey sand

scent of the sand is the scent of the blood,
neither your nor mine,
it's the natures black blood,
count's forlorn wine.

Feb 15, 2008

Alone in Desert


I stand alone at times.

I gaze upon an empty yet rough terrain of land under noon sun, desert in me it is.

The gush of wind blows through my hair...

I see her dressed in pink and red, wearing a red smile, waving at me...

Mirage...

You, only You


Monotonic harmonic and yet mnemonic
as you maketh the way
your beauty, you beauty allover deep rooted
red is the hue of the air
the razzle and dazzle of your ensemble
amorous as ever i may
the days i slayed, the prayers i made,
the thread of us is grey
no sun, no moon, whatever the boon
your smell makes my day
Monotonic harmonic and yet mnemonic
as you maketh the way

Jun 15, 2007

Devil's Red bedsheet


"Karla" - I said
when she was to be dead
but woke up instead
out of devil's bed
in the sun's green light
moon's heavy shed..
can you not, just not listen
her breaking apart
bone by bone....

“lets go by the lake” - I said
the orange tree's purple shower
pure yet sadistic
we the masochistic
wow whatta words have flowered
angels gathered
when women are raped
the women who rapes
is the women who says
that women are raped.

Jun 9, 2007

You to me are bosom close
















Sitting on the blue garden's banal floor,

Bluish-white petal of the blue rose...
Your eyes take away my life,
You to me are bosom close

Your lips touch my hungry ear,
Your voice hushed yet clear,
Words resound like sound of wind,
Like the orange monk's orange prayer.

Never before my thoughts i fought,
My body frail my heart distraught,
But no odds can beat me where,
The touch of your hands on my eyelids is there.

Apr 30, 2007

Your face beneath your hair



















The rain shower below the shady mountain of fire,
The green cloud sweeps my thoughts like your skin,
so smooth so fair,

When your eye meets the first ray of sun,
as he watches it glide all around,
The resonanse of your breathing sound,

My eyes visit the azure, so clean so bare
my hands up in prayer,
while your blissful smile, enlivens and loves,
so black yet cute is the stack of your lovely-greedy hair.
I try as i look, but i am clueless always as i hear
mysterious is the laugh on your face beneath your lovely-greedy hair.

Apr 11, 2007

Why, what and how?

Q. Why do we have to live?

A. No particular reason, we all live for different reasons.

Q. Is there an ultimate purpose of our life?

A. No, we all attach different purposes or meanings to life. We all determine the way of our life by our luck and by our karma.

Q. What is our Karma?

A. It may be anything.

Q. How is our Karma Good or Bad?

A. Our Karma is good or bad by virtue of the perspective through which we view it. Like the same colorless water, may appear colorful when filled into different colored bottles.

Q. Why should we keep on doing Karma?

A. To avoid being static, to be active and livid. In short, we should keep on doing karma to live.

Q. But, why do we have to live?

A. Already answered as the first question.

Q. And why do we live?

A. That I don’t know

Apr 7, 2007

क्यों है?

कभी सोचता हूं की यह ऎसा क्यों है?
फिर सोचता हुं की यह मेरे जैसा क्यों है?

Feb 13, 2007

Circle

If you ever thought...

who is the one who cares for you?

you will see around very few such people..

but you hate those very people..you think they just run after you, they seem irritating to you, at times due to their regular affection for you...

in short you ask in air, "why the hell do they like me??"

for you they are nuthing but so annoying...

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

instead you dream of those people whom you think are just tailor made for you, "ohh they are so charming..."

whereas they? they infact think the opposite and they would never like to be with you...

infact they hate you...for them, you are nuthing but

so annoying.

This world is circular, isn't it.

Dec 19, 2006

Your lovely Heart













Vision is reality's shield,
Smile is tears' cover,
White is black's guise,
But your lovely heart's lovely beat-dance is my para-yielding desire's lover.

Its black, that...


Its yellowish, that the night

and her brothers are on a journey
out of the pink and maroon shoe-house
there would be starts smiling on the roof


Its orange, that on green grass

run lovely white rabbits, cute rabbits

the rain water runs over my bluish-crimson thoughts

now the innocuous meadows will shine again

Its but red, that the boat of life

will sail and a sailor will smile

as he watches the peak of no return.
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