Monday, March 02, 2015

कुछ रिश्तों की पहचान - kuch rishton ki pehchan


कुछ रिश्तों की पहचान फासलों से ही होती है 
क्या हो गर सूरज और पृथ्वी के फासले मिट जाएं 

Monday, February 02, 2015

कुछ रिश्ते ख़ास होते हैं


कुछ रिश्ते ख़ास होते हैं 

नदी के उस मदमस्त मोड़ की तरह 
जो उसे नर्तकी की लचक देते हैं 

उस एक अनोखे पल की तरह 
जो एक बार आकर हमें बार बार ज़िंदा कर जाता है 

उस पत्ते पर थिरकती बूँद की तरह 
जिसमें सारा आसमां समा जाता है 

उस पेड़ की छाओं की तरह 
जो ज़िन्दगी की थकान मिटा देती है 

उस एक याद की तरह 
जो बुढ़ापे की लाठी बन जाती है 

कुछ रिश्ते जीना सिखा जाते हैं 
क्योंकि वो कुछ ख़ास होते हैं 

Transliteration
=========== 
kuch rishtey khaas hote hain. 

nadi ke us madmast mod ki tarah 
jo use nartaki ki lachak dete hain.

us ek anokhe pal ki tarah 
jo ek baar aake hamein baar baar zinda kar jaata hain. 

us patte par thirakti ek boond ki tarah 
jismein sara aasmaan samaa jaata hai. 

us ped ki chao ki tarah 
jo zindagi ki thakaan mita deti hai 

us ek yaad ki tarah 
jo budhape ki laathi ban jaati hai 

kuch rishtey jeena sikha jaate hain
kyonki wo kuch khaas hote hain.

Wednesday, December 24, 2014

ख़ामोशी कुछ ऐसे ख़ामोश हुई

उस दिन 
ख़ामोशी कुछ ऐसे ख़ामोश हुई 
की दिल का धड़कना और 
पत्तों का झड़ना भी 
शोर लगने लगा 

Us din 
khamoshi Kuch Aise khamosh hui
Ki dil ka dhadakna aur 
Patto ka jhadna bhi 
Shor lagne laga. 

Thursday, December 18, 2014

dhoondh raha hoon

ढूंढ रहा हूँ उसे जिसने आसमां रंगा है
वो रंग मुझे कोरे कागज़ में भरने हैं

जज़्बात बनानेवाला कहीं छुपके बैठा है
मिले तो दो बूँद जज़्बात सियाही में डालूं

**** Transliteration ****
Dhoondh raha hoon use jisne aasmaan ranga hai
wo rang mujhe kore kaagaz mein bharne hain

Jazbaat bananewala kahin chhupke baitha hai
mile to do boond jazbaat siyahi mein daalun

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

A small step, a giant leap

I notice a spring in my step, hitherto unknown.
A small step towards what I love
is a giant leap expanding a magnificent life.

Monday, December 08, 2014

Sacred Space

From time to time
I reach that space,
the sanctum sanctorum,
the void of life,
the emptiness
brimming with fullness,
the womb of creation,
indescribable,
where words write
their own requiem,
as they fall graciously
like leaves
on the altar of autumn.

From that space
come to me,
random pearls
that I string together
and emerge on the surface,
a jubilant diver
with the necklace of poetry.

Monday, December 01, 2014

The cycle of love, crudely

A boy met a girl.
The meeting sparked interest.
Interest bred infatuation.
Infatuation brought happiness.

He made her feel beautiful,
she made him feel important.
They massaged each other’s ego
in an unspoken agreement
of quid pro quo
and called it ‘love’.

They heaped lavish praises
and made eternal promises,
they gave much more
than what was bargained for.
The excess deposits
were absorbed and stashed
in the bank of happy memories.

Promises got them closer.
Closeness enhanced familiarity
which revealed imperfection
and brought judgments
which gave rise to arguments.
Arguments distanced them.

Fingers were pointed and
bloated egos were pricked.
Both went bankrupt when
the deposits were withdrawn.

They went about looking
for a new ‘love’
to refill their coffers.