The Contrast

I was an Indian before,

Now I am 

A Bengali, a Bihari, a Punjabi, a Rajasthani...

I was a believer so pure

Now I am

A Hindu, a Muslim, a Christian,a Sikh...

Even worse, I was not so sure

Now I am

A Brahmin, a Dalit, a Rajput, a Shudra...

I was a fighter to cure,

Now I am

A polictician, a leader, a bureaucrat…

Oh! I have become so weak

Oh! I am not what I was, anymore

Nomads

Nomadic life like fleeting breathe

Exhaling-inhaling

With joyous moments on piggy-back

And exaltation trailing.

For a moment, over the moon

The next moment wailing

What made you come? For where you go?

Folks kept on hailing.

Ask not where do I go?

For I have to keep on sailing

Picking up something from the world,

And bestow without failing.

Two words said and two recieved

Giggling and bawling

Sipping happiness and sorrow,

Wrapped up in one feeling.

In this world of scroungers

Enroute happiness tilling

And like a mark on  heart, we run

With dark failures stealing.

We cared not for respect, or despise

But were seen freely twiddling

We greeted and embraced the death

Arms stretched wide, kneeling

We have no notions of bad and good

Changed our course, without complaining

Throwing our wishes in the cell,

And over the heart, jinx ruling

Friends and strangers, whoever be

We wish they keep on blooming

We threw our hands across in care

Now we take-off from their cieling.

Silence

Silence woke up
and disturbed my calm
Pulled my ears
Bothered all night
I could not sleep

It screamed
When I slapped hard
But, it bit my hand
And sucked the red, but
I could not weep 

You will leave

You will leave
And will leave nothing
You will walk away, 
With the earth in feet 
With the dust and heat
And never to retreat
For eternities it may last
Only shadows to cast
With hours they'll turn weak
And the future bleak
You will leave 
And will leave nothing

The bridge that we've built
Slowly it will tilt
The other end unreachable
And all that would be our fable
Known to you and me
Oh! HE will also see
You will leave
And will leave nothing

My soul will seek the sand
My hours will, but you demand
My shoulders will feel your hand 
My life will look for stand
My days would become 
nights brimming with stars, 
My ways
endless desert hours, 
You will leave and will leave nothing
Only a song to sing, 
And to fly back some memory wings. 

प्रतिबिम्ब

भटकता रहूँ  मैं  सदियों  तक  अनंंत  व्योम  में 
अनंंत  सीढिया हो  और  अनंंत  पट  हो  हर  तरफ 
आंसू  से  सिन्धु  भर  जाये  कोई 
और  इतनी  साँसे  की  भर  जाए  नभ  का  प्रसार 
यदि  हो ,
मुझे  अवलम्ब  आशा  की  उस  एक  किरण  का 
जो  छन कर  पलकों  से  तुम्हारी  
आती हो  इस  तमस  सिन्धु  में 
पथिक  मैं 
और  पंथ  हो  वह  करुण  कोमल  भावना 
जो  बनाती  है  तुम्हारे  मुख  पटल  पर 
अभिव्यक्तियों  की  रहस्मयी  सी  अल्पना 
और  मेरा  लक्ष्य  हो ,बस  वही  चेहरा  प्रिये 
जो  मेरी  स्मृति  में  छाया  है  तेरा  प्रतिबिम्ब  बनकर 
आज   भी  तुम  ही  मेरी  हर  कल्पना  का  सार  हो 
आज भी  तुम  ही  से  है  संबल  मेरा 
कह  रही  हर  सांस  में  आती  हुई 
स्मृति  व्योम  से  क्षण  मेघ  की  हर  गर्जना 
मैं  मिटू  या  मील  का  पत्थर  बनू 
ज्ञान  का  सागर  बनू  या  अल्प  ज्ञानी  नर  बनू 
जीत  लूं  यह  विश्व  सारा  बन  महान शूर  मैं 
या  जा  मिलूँ  संघर्ष   करता  मैं  समय  की  धुल  में 
नियति  को  वर  कर  बना  लूं , हर  दिवस  अनुकूल  मैं 
मिटू  हजारो  बार , गिर  कर  मैं  उठू 
और  फिर  गिरू 
पथ  से  विचलित  नहीं  होगा  मेरा  पग  एक  भी 
तुम  ही  हो  संगीत  बन  कर  सांस  में 
तुम  ही  हो  धड़कन  बन  कर  पास  में 
शारीर  को  कम्पित  करता  तेरा  ही  एहसास  है 
पास  है  मेरे  तू ,फिर  भी  नहीं  पास  है 
कह  रहा  इस  ह्रदय  का  हर  एक  स्पंदन 
और  मेरी  साँसे  बस  यही  पूछती  हैं 
"क्या  मेरे  आराध्य  को  स्वीकार  है  अर्पण  मेरा ?
क्या  मेरा  प्रतिबिम्ब  आएगा  नज़र 
पोछ  के  देखू  अगर  मैं  ह्रदय  का  दर्पण  तेरा ?"

Childhood Days

Those days of deep unconcern,

Without anxiety, no fear,

Those days when sun was sun,

And water crystal clear.

Those days so easy and free,

Every morsel tasted great,

Those days with mother-divine,

Rubbing love on my cheeks wet.

Those days of true immaturity,

Only mother-wit by my side,

Those days when the inner-being

Dreamed to whoosh and glide.

Those days of pretty ignorance,

No speculation of future and past

Those days when biting about

Every bit spread in the vast.

Those days- months of Sundays

Laughter fell clear and plain

Those days -extravagant days

Plentiful in every grain.

Those days of sheer amateurishness,

And chimera by the gray-haired,

Those days topped with tales

And riddles for the bread.

Those days nor dark nor bright

But blatantly spoke what’s what

Those days smile from the easel

Deriving ’something’ from ‘the not’.