Thursday, September 04, 2014

The fork along the path

A long time ago, I went for
a walk to nowhere in particular.
In some time, I reached a fork.
One sign said ‘Accept’,
the other said ‘Deny’.
Since curious I was to check out,
I took the path of denial.
Then came another fork
with the same options;
and I repeated my choice.

Then came another, and another
And then many more
I took the same choice again,
and then even more.
First it was fun, this denial thing.
But then the path became darker
with every choice I made.
Every fork got darker,
but my choice
stayed the same.

Soon enough, the signs
were not needed.
I chose the darker
route by instinct.
Thereafter, even the
forks disappeared.
The darkness got darker
and became its own mother.
When it reached its nadir,
I became nocturnal.

I then saw many eyes
of my kind. Feeling at home
in the obscurity of night.
We denied ourselves
for so long that we
forgot who we are.
We rambled about
in the dark, tripping,
hurting, trampling,
cursing and loving it.

I wallowed in the filth
until I loved it no more.
I walked again without
direction or sight;
guided only by inner light.
Tripping, hurting, trampling,
blessing and loving it.
Soon I reached a hazy fork
where one path had
a faint ray of light. 

Friday, August 29, 2014

Two balloons

Two balloons that were tied to a rod
often hugged and loved each other.
Both knew no other way to live.
Both were sold to different kids
who loved them too.

But a day came when
they were set free
to soar up in the sky
where they burst
and became
the same air.

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Confessions of a poet

I may sound wise,
but I’m not always so.
I may seem evolved,
but I have pitfalls too.

My best love songs,
don’t make me romantic.
They enthral me sometimes,
but don’t always give a kick.

A beautiful poem doesn’t
make me a perfect person.
For in the ocean of my flaws,
it’s just a wave of perfection.

I have my moments,
I have my quirks,
I get hurt too and
behave like a jerk.

I am as human
as human can be.
But when poetry comes,
It’s not just me.

Although it may seem like
it’s coming ‘from’ me,
the real truth is that,
It’s coming ‘through’ me.

I learn as much
in the process of writing
as you all do
in the moment of reading.

I sometimes don’t practise  
the wisdom of my own writing.
For I often slip, falter and fall
before I get up and get going.

But when I fall below the line,
I’m aware of the missed track.
My writing becomes my mirror
that I can’t face, until I’m back.

My poems become my beacon
that draws me out of the dark;
when I’m finally out in the sun,
they sing merrily like a lark. 

Thursday, July 24, 2014

O' Mind! Let go

O’ Mind! Let go of your cocoon
and give wings a chance.
A life with flight awaits you.

Let go of the hoarding
and give sharing a chance.
A greater treasure awaits you.

Let go of your fear
and give love a chance.
A life more fulfilling awaits you.

Let go of the past and future
and give present a chance.
A life more aware awaits you.

Let go of your prejudices
and give acceptance a chance.
A life more loving awaits you.

Let go of your doubts
and give faith a chance.
A life so miraculous awaits you.

Let go of your competition
and give collaboration a chance.
A life more evolved awaits you.

Let go of your insecurities
and give existence a chance.
A life so fearless awaits you.

Let go of your limitations
and give source a chance.
A life so limitless awaits you.

Let go of possessiveness
and give freedom a chance.
A life more eternal awaits you.

Let go of the hurt
and give forgiveness a chance.
A life so wholesome awaits you.

Let go of your attachments
and give detachment a chance.
A life so Godly awaits you.

Let go of your chatter
and give silence a chance.
A life so divine awaits you.

Let go of your ‘self’
and give God a chance.
A life so complete awaits you.

O’ Mind! Let go,
In your withering lies the true blossoming.
Let go, for there is more where that came from.

Saturday, July 19, 2014

मैं कहाँ लिखता हूं ? - Hindi Ghazal

मैं कहाँ लिखता हूं ?
मैं तो एक कलम हूं किसी और के हाथ की

मैं कहाँ फनकार हूं ?
मैं तो एक वीणा हूं किसी और फनकार की

मैं कहाँ कुछ केह्ता हूं ?
मैं तो खुद अल्फ़ाज़ हूं किसी और की ज़ुबां का

मुझमे कहाँ कोई हुनर है ?
मैं तो अभिव्यक्ति हूं किसी और अदाकार की

ये ज़िंदगी मेरी कहाँ है ?
ये सांसें तो कर्ज़दार हैं किसी और लेनदार की

Transliteration:
==========
main kahaan likhta hoon?
main to khud kalam hoon kisi aur ke haath ki.

main kahaan fankaar hoon?
main to khud veena hoon kisi aur fankaar ki.

main kahaan kuch kahta hoon?
main to khud alfaaz hoon kisi aur ke zubaan ka.

mujhme kahaan koi hunar hai?
main to abhivyakti hoon kisi aur adakaar ki.

ye zindagi meri kahaan hai?
ye saansein to karzdar hain kisi lendar ki.

Translation:
========
I'm not the writer.
I'm just a pen in the hands on another.

I'm not the musician.
I'm just a veena (musical instrument) of another musician.

It is not I who speaks.
I'm just the words in the mouth of someone else.

I don't have any talents.
I'm just an expression of some other artist.

This life is not mine.
My breaths are my debt to some lender. 

Saturday, July 12, 2014

Madness filter

One day at a crowded station
as I waited for the local train,
through the crowd came a shriek
that pierced our busy brain.

“I hate you.
I love you.
I kill you.
I hate you.”

Every head turned to check
the source of the sharp noise.
The crowd split apart to reveal
a torn clothed man without poise.

We observed and ignored him,
gave space and let him be.
He blabbered what came to him
without a filter of propriety.

“Poor crazy fellow,” chuckled
the dapper man next to me.
We forgot him as the train arrived
in our hurried boarding spree.

Every commuter was lost
in his phone or her thought.
Every face, though silent without,
in an inner volcano, was caught.

There is a fine filter that masks
our emotions and projects peace.
It curbs our real thoughts and
creates a facade of pleasant face.

It’s the filter that separates us
from the ‘mad’ in our society.
Else, we’d be mouthing it all,
killing our purported sobriety. 

Saturday, June 21, 2014

He and I

When he looks at the sky, he just looks at the sky.
When I look at the sky, sometimes I don't even notice it.

When he eats, he just eats.
When I eat, I read or hear news.

When he smiles, he just smiles.
When I smile, there is a reason.

When he looks at me, he just looks at me.
When I look at him, I profile him.

When he listens, he just listens.
When I listen, I prepare to reply.

His smile has a child like lightness.
My smile has a labourer's burden.

Even when he looks without, he comes from within.
Even when I look within, I am without.

When he doesn't speak, the whole of him is silent.
Even when I don't speak, I am not silent.

He lives without preferences and prejudices.
I'm neck deep in them.

He simply loves, trusts and lets go.
I fear, doubt and hold on.

He is rooted in spirit.
I am stuck in the mind.

He is enlightened.
I am an intellectual.

Tuesday, June 03, 2014

In the deepest core of me

In the deepest core of me
breath flows as symphony
and life flows as poetry. 

Monday, June 02, 2014

The Dance of Light

In the unknown distant future, 
when the lamps are burning low, 
a light will emerge from the dark
and draw us towards its glow. 

Such would be its purity 
and wondrous magnificence,
that just like moths of light 
we would choose obsolescence. 

We won't know its end,
nor would we see its origin; 
without a slightest care 
we would jump right in. 

We would joyously celebrate 
by unbridled singin' and dancin', 
when we realize that the light without 
is really a resplendent glow within.

Thursday, May 29, 2014

Rainbow in Dubai

“The problem with Dubai is that
there are no rainbows,” I sighed.
“Then create your own,
I know you can,” she replied.
She gave me an insight
which was in my blind-spot.
I went looking for my rainbow
in Dubai - so humid and hot.

There are riches galore,
opulence knows no bound.
Burj is the crowning jewel
of luxury so unbound.
Built with labourers’ sweat
of colour a bright RED
In their exploitation,
the EARTH has bled.

I notice fragile relations,
and good scope for affair.
Where skin rules the roost
in fragrant touristy air.
In discos and in bars,
glamour shines ORANGE.
The WATER of life flows
in ways so strange.

The city has ambition
that is so palpable,
that it burns in its FIRE
anyone incapable.
With blazing passion,
it has built sky scrapers,
with all odds pulverized,
as smouldering YELLOW embers.

The city is blossoming
and in search of its heart.
Looking for its identity
through people and their art.
The desert city with hot WIND,
is trying hard to be GREEN.
An oasis of modernity
that wants to be seen.

Its actions speak
more than any word.
Focused on peace amidst
violent neighbouring herd.
Invites them all
like a lustrous glue,
with the attractions in its SPACE,
not a moment feels BLUE.

But then there are pockets
that I saw with my eyes,
that are so different
that it logic defies.
There are seekers,
in such wondrous flow,
they give me INSIGHT
and paint me INDIGO.

And then there are
CROWNing masters too,
found only if
your heart is true.
They help you rise and
get you out of closet.
Put you on the path and
bathe you in light VIOLET.

As I ended my search
of Dubai’s rainbow,
I felt blissful as
I found much more.
The colours of the rainbow match
those of chakras along my spine.
Why crib for a rainbow outside?
I found my very own within.

========
This is an esoteric poem which requires the below table to explain the significance of capitalized letters.

No.
Chakra English Name
Chakra Sanskrit Name
Associated Element or property
Associated Colour
1
Basic
Muladhara
Earth
Red
2
Sacral
Swadhishthana
Water
Orange
3
Solar Plexus
Manipura
Fire
Yellow
4
Heart
Anahata
Air
Green
5
Throat
Vishuddhi
Space
Blue
6
Third Eye
Agna
Intuitive Intelligence
Indigo
7
Crown
Sahasrara
Union
Violet

Thursday, May 15, 2014

Rose and Coconut

Once there was a rose and a coconut.
The rose was a rose,
the coconut was a coconut.
And life was good.

The rose gave flowers and its fragrance,
the coconut bore fruits and its water,
the rose was short and coconut grew tall,
and life was bliss.

One day the rose noticed the coconut
and took fancy to its height,
it then wanted to be tall,
and life was desire.

Slowly the rose evolved into something taller,
the flower became a hard fruit
and the rose lost its fragrance,
and desire was materialized.

The rose was neither tall enough
to be called a coconut,
nor fragrant enough to be a rose,
and the rose was now a Roconut.

The Roconut was now unhappy.
It was neither here nor there.
It prayed to be restored,
and life was remembrance.

Gradually, the fruit became softer
and the divine fragrance returned.
The rose was now short and in acceptance.
And life was good. 

Sunday, May 11, 2014

Happy Mother's Day

My mother doesn’t surf internet. She will never know that people all over the world go berserk with tweets and wonderful messages on Facebook eulogizing their mothers one moment and then taking them for granted for the rest of the year. She probably doesn’t even know nor does she care that there is a special day in a year reserved for mothers around the world.

The last time I told her, she responded with a question, “So what happens on Mother’s Day?” I told her that this is the day when the whole world recognizes the contribution of mothers around the world. It is a way by which the world has decided to pay back the mothers. She twitched her brows in part appreciation part confusion, hugged me and went about her chore. Even if I tell her today, she will probably forget the concept tomorrow. The bottom-line is that, to her and to a vast majority of mothers around the world, the concept doesn’t matter, nor does it make a difference.

The larger question is “Who is the mother here? “

Is the interpretation of ‘Mother’ to be restricted to our biological mother? Is it the mother who became ecstatic when we kicked her from within the womb? The mother who we continued kicking while suckling, the mother who we quite literally continue kicking when we grow up, the lady who cares enough to prepare the dinner whether we eat or not and just don’t care to apologize if we don’t or thank her for her efforts, the lady who groomed us when we couldn’t do anything ourselves, the lady whose only strength and weakness is us, who would not, cannot ditch us even if we keep taking her for granted like door of the house, the house that she turns into a home.

Or does ‘Mother’ represent the goddesses from various mythologies? Or is it the Mother Earth that nurtures us all, absorbs all our infringements and still goes about giving and caring for us. Is it the mother that we shamelessly plunder to meet our godforsaken ambitions which know no end?

Or does ‘Mother’ mean the space that holds the Earth in place? Or is it the ‘Cosmic Womb’ from which came the universe just as we came from our mother’s womb? Is it the nothing that gave birth to everything?

If we go by the philosophy that there is a male and a female in all of us, then all of us are potential mothers. In Spiritually Evolved Societies, everyone is a mother – the whole society - because everyone cares and shares. The responsibility of parenting is not limited to the biological parents. The whole community grieves if one of them sleeps hungry. The whole village strives to love and recover the hurt of one.

The problem is that we have restricted and localized our idea of ‘Mother’ to that one individual. A mother is not just who bore us and breast-fed us; a father who caresses us after office while we are asleep is a mother, a neighbour who shares the sweet dish she made is a mother, a person who gives up his seat in a bus for an elderly person is a mother, a teenage son becomes a mother when he lies to his ailing mother that he had dinner at friend’s place, a friend who eggs you on when you’re down is a mother, a wife who takes leave from office to take care of her sick husband is a mother, a giver of alms is a mother to a beggar, someone who says no to plastic is a mother to environment, people who care for street animals are mothers to nature, a stranger who hugs you for no reason is a mother too.

We don’t have to bear and rear a child to become a mother; we become a mother the moment we love and care selflessly for that is what a mother does best. This is not to undermine the absolutely wonderful biological privilege of carrying another life within you that only the female gender can experience.

Let us celebrate this mother’s day with this new conscious understanding. It is mother’s day for you if and when: you made a difference to someone, you lied prostrate on the ground thanking the Earth, hugged a tree in gratitude, caressed a flower without plucking it, removed a stone from the road or filled a pothole, just spread your arms around feeling the air, thanked everything that holds you in place, just smiled – as if you know a secret – the secret that is love and the love outpours as tears of joy for all that is.

Every day is a mother’s day and every moment a potential mother’s moment if we operate from love. Let us pat our backs for all such moments that have brought out the mothers in us.

Happy Mother’s Day!   

Thursday, May 08, 2014

Elements and me

I placed my feet on the ground
with so much love
that the earth felt kissed.

I made so much love to the sky
with my eyes
that it climaxed with thunder.

I caressed the wind
with such tenderness
that it brought me heavenly fragrance.

I drank water
with such gratitude
that it quenched my thirst of lifetimes.

I felt the flame
with such warmth
that it kindled the fire within.

======== 
This poem came to me during a meditation session with Dr. Pradeep Ullal. Thank you Pradeep for taking me to the realm of these wondrous lines. 

Wednesday, May 07, 2014

Thursday, May 01, 2014

The essence is untouched

A sketcher cannot sketch light. He just shades the darker portions of an image. What is untouched is perceived as light.

A writer cannot describe the essence within. He can describe the periphery and leave the rest in silence. What is unwritten is the essence.

Sunday, April 27, 2014

Get off Facebook

Facebook, Twitter and Watsapp are awash with all the good to great messages, inspiring videos and lovely heart warming stories that we watch, like, comment on and share daily. 

And yet, how many of us truly live those messages of love, compassion, following our heart, seeking our real joy and really really start living. Fundamentally, all of these messages are the same, bundled in different wrappings. 

I wonder how many such inspirations we will need before we truly wake up and rise, how many wrappers we will unwrap, say wow but then go back to the same old mundane existence, how many such stories we will read before we make a story of ourselves, how many such messages we will need before we become the living message, how many times we will fall before we get up and dare life not to let us live our passion, for how long we will be satisfied with just being an audience and applaud the performance of those who gave up their comforts, their sleep, their jobs and everything to follow their dream and create something magical - something that makes us stand in a queue to pay, to watch and wonder how they could do that. 

If the messages you've received so far can't inspire you to act, not many other things can. So get off facebook and find your calling, get off twitter and find your passion, get off watsap and follow your passion. 
Go within and seek the innermost treasure inside of you that is waiting to create the magic that people would die to watch, seek that inner calling that is waiting to explode at the slightest nod it receives from you. Allow the real you to blossom.  

Sunday, April 20, 2014

Wow Moments

In the movie Avatar, we look at the suspended-in-space mountains and wonder at film maker's imagination and graphics.

Yet we forget that the stars, moon, sun and earth are all suspended in space and we see them daily. When did we truly wonder "how the heaven this huge sun stays suspended in space like that?"

If we truly connect with nature, those wow moments await us on a daily basis and not just from Avatar to Avatar - pun intended.

एक आवाज़ बुला रही है - A voice is calling me

एक आवाज़ है जो बुला रही है
बिना डोर के खींचे जा रही है
केहती है मुझे 'आओ पास मेरे'
तुम्हे करीब से ज़िन्दगी दिखानी है

ज़िन्दगी के कई पहलु हैं
तुमने अभी देखा ही क्या है
काम की चार दीवारों में
तुमने खुदको चुनवा दिया है

इस नदिया के उस पार
उठाओ पतवार और चले आओ
चीर दो इस पहाड़ को
और नई एक सड़क बनाओ

निकल पडो एक ऐसे सफर पे
जिसमें अगले पल की खबर ना हो
जहां बैठें वो बसेरा बने
जहां आँख खुले सवेरा हो

उठो चलो आज, अभी,
कहीं देर ना हो जाए
कलियों को खिलते देखना है तुम्हे
तारों को टिमटिमाते देखना है तुम्हे

ज़िन्दगी के रंगों में रंगना है तुम्हे
हर उतार चढ़ाव को शब्दों में पिरोना है तुम्हे
हसी का अमृत और गम का ज़हर पीना है तुम्हे
फिर हर कहानी में ख़ुशी के आंसू रोना है तुम्हे

==========
Transliteration
==========
ek awaaz hai jo bula rahi hai
bina dor ke kheenche ja rahi hai
kehti hai mujhe aao paas mere
tumhein kareeb se zindagi dikhani hai

zindagi ke kai pehlu hain
tumne abhi dekha hi kya hai
kaam ki chaar deewaron mein
tumne khudko chunwa diya hai

is nadiya ke us paar
uthao patwar aur chale aao
cheer do is pahad ko
aur nayi ek sadak banao

nikal pado ek aise safar pe
jisme agle pal ki khabar na ho
jahaan baithe wo basera bane
jahaan aankh khule savera ho

utho chalo aaj, abhi
kahin der na ho jaaye
kaliyon ko khilte dekhna hai tumhe
taaron ko timtimate dekhna hai tumhe

zindagi ke rangon mein rangna hai tumhe
har utar chadhav ko shabdon mein pirona hai tumhe
hasee ka amrit aur gum ka zahar peena hai tumhe
fir har kahani mein khushi ke aansu rona hai tumhe 

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

The Metaphysical Sex

All the world is exchanging energy all the time. Your energy is pushing out, touching everything else. Everything and everyone else is touching you.

But now an interesting thing happens. At some point midway between you and everything else—those energies meet.

To make a more vivid description, let’s imagine two people in a room. They are on the far sides of the room from each other. We’ll call them Tom and Mary. Now Tom’s personal energy is transmitting signals about Tom in a 360-degree circle out in the universe. Some of that energy wave hits Mary. Mary, meanwhile, is emitting her own energy—some of which hits Tom. But these energies meet each other in a way you may not have thought of. They meet midway between Tom and Mary. 

Here, the energies unite (remember now, these energies are physical phenomena; they can be measured, felt) and combine to form a new energy unit we’ll call “Tomary.” It is the energy of Tom and Mary combined. Tom and Mary could very well call this energy The Body Between Us—for it is just that: a body of energy to which both are connected, which both are feeding the continuing energies which flow to it, and which is sending energies back to its two “sponsors” along the thread, or cord, or pipeline that always exists within the Matrix. (Indeed, this “pipeline” is the Matrix.) It is this experience of “Tomary” which is the truth of Tom and Mary. It is to this Holy Communion that both are drawn. For they feel, along the pipeline, the sublime joy of the Body Between, of the joined One, of the Blessed Union. Tom and Mary, standing off at a distance, can feel—in a physical way—what is going on in the Matrix. Both are urgently drawn toward this experience. They want to move toward each other! At once! 

Now their “training” sets in. The world has trained them to slow down, to mistrust the feeling, to guard against “hurt,” to hold back. But the soul . . . wants to know “Tomary”—now! If the two are lucky, they will be free enough to set aside their fears and trust that love is all there is. They are irrevocably drawn now, these two, to the Body Between Them. TOMARY is already being experienced metaphysically, and Tom and Mary will want to experience it physically. So they’ll move closer together. Not to get to each other. It looks that way to the casual observer. But they are each trying to get to TOMARY. They are trying to reach that place of Divine Union which already exists between them. The place where they already know they are One—and what it is like to Be One. 

So they move toward this “feeling” they are experiencing, and, as they close the gap between them, as they “shorten the cord,” the energy they are both sending to TOMARY travels a shorter distance and is thus more intense. They move closer still. The shorter the distance, the greater the intensity. They move closer still. Once more the intensity increases.

Now they stand just a few feet apart. The Body Between them is glowing hot. Vibrating with terrific speed. The “connection” to and from TOMARY is thicker, wider, brighter, burning with the transfer of incredible energy. The two are said to be “burning with desire.” They are! They move closer still. Now, they touch. 
The sensation is almost unbearable. Exquisite. They feel, at the point of their touch, all the energy of TOMARY—all the compacted, intensely unified substance of their Combined Being. If you open yourself to your greatest sensitivity, you’ll be able to feel this subtle, sublime energy as a tingling when you touch—sometimes the “tingling” will run right through you—or as heat at the point of your touch—heat which you may also suddenly feel throughout your body—but concentrated deeply within your lower chakra, or energy center. It will “burn” there especially intensely—and Tom and Mary will now be said to have the “hots” for each other! Now the two embrace, and they close the gap even further, with Tom, Mary, and Tomary all filling nearly the same space. Tom and Mary can feel Tomary between them—and they want to get even closer—to literally meld with Tomary. To become Tomary in physical form. I have created in the male and female bodies a way to do that. At this moment, Tom and Mary’s bodies are ready to do that. Tom’s body is now ready to literally enter Mary. Mary’s body is ready to literally receive Tom within her. 

The tingling, the burning, is now beyond intense. It is... indescribable. The two physical bodies join. Tom, Mary, and Tomary become One. In the flesh. Still the energies flow between them. Urgently. Passionately. They heave. They move. They can’t get enough of each other, can’t get close enough together. They strive to get close. Close. CLOSER. They explode—literally—and their entire physical bodies convulse. The vibration sends ripples to their fingertips. In the explosion of their oneness they have known the God and the Goddess, the Alpha and the Omega, the All and the Nothing—the Essence of life—the Experience of That Which Is. 

There are physical chemistries as well. The two have become One—and a third entity often is created of the two, in physical form. Thus, an outpicturing of TOMARY is created. Flesh of their flesh. Blood of their blood. They have literally created life! Have I not said that ye are Gods? 

That is the most beautiful description of human sexuality I have ever heard. 

You see beauty where you desire to see it. You see ugliness where you are afraid to see beauty. It would amaze you to know how many people see what I’ve just said as ugly. 

No, it wouldn’t. I’ve already seen how much fear, and ugliness, the world has placed around sex.

This ... dance that I’ve just described, this energy interaction I’ve explained, is occurring all the time—in and with everything.

Your energy—beamed from you like a Golden Light—is interacting constantly with everything and everyone else. The closer you are, the more intense the energy. The further away, the more subtle. Yet you are never totally disconnected from anything. There is a point between You and every other person, place, or thing which exists. It is here that two energies meet, forming a third, much less dense, but no less real, energy unit. Everyone and everything on the planet—and in the universe—is emitting energy in every direction. This energy mixes with all other energies, criss-crossing in patterns of complexity beyond the ability of your most powerful computers to analyze. 

The criss-crossing, intermingling, intertwining energies racing between everything that you can call physical is what holds physicality together. This is the Matrix, of which I have spoken. It is along this Matrix that you send signals to each other—messages, meanings, healings, and other physical effects—created sometimes by individuals but mostly by mass consciousness. These innumerable energies are, as I have explained, attracted to each other. This is called the Law of Attraction. In this Law, Like attracts Like. Like Thoughts attract Like Thoughts along the Matrix—and when enough of these similar energies “clump together,” so to speak, their vibrations become heavier, they slow down— and some become Matter. Thoughts do create physical form—and when many people are thinking the same thing, there is a very high likelihood their thoughts will form a Reality.


-          Excerpt from the book ‘Conversations with God’ by Neale Donald Walsch 

Friday, April 11, 2014

जरा जरा आओ आज - zara zara aao aaj

जरा जरा आओ आज
थोडा सा जी लें हम
जरा जरा आओ आज
साँसों में ज़िन्दगी भर लें हम

जरा जरा आओ आज
ज़िन्दगी का कानून बदलें हम
जरा जरा आओ आज
खुल के हस लें हम

जरा जरा आओ आज
थोडी ख़ुशियाँ फैलाएँ हम
जरा जरा आओ आज
ख़ुशी को भीतर समाएँ हम

जरा जरा आओ आज
बचपन को दौहराएँ हम
जरा जरा आओ आज
थोड़ा बड़प्पन दिखाएँ हम

जरा जरा आओ आज
ख़ुद को माफ़ करें हम
जरा जरा आओ आज
ख़ुद से प्यार करें हम

जरा जरा आओ आज
ख़ुद में डूब जाएँ हम
जरा जरा आओ आज
ख़ुद में ख़ुदा ढूंढें हम

zara zara aao aaj
thoda sa jee lein hum
zara zara aao aaj
saanson mein zindagi bhar lein hum

zara zara aao aaj
zindagi ka kanoon badlein hum
zara zara aao aaj
khul ke has lein hum

zara zara aao aaj
thodi khushi failayein hum
zara zara aao aaj
khushi ko bheetar samayein hum

zara zara aao aaj
bachpan ko dauharayein hum
zara zara aao aaj
thoda badappan dikhayein hum

zara zara aao aaj
khud ko maaf karein hum
zara zara aao aaj
khud se pyaar karein hum

zara zara aao aaj
khud mein doob jaein hum
zara zara aao aaj
khud mein khuda dhoondhein hum