एक परिंदा बाकी है.

शाम हो चुकी है बेशक पर-
आसमान में एक परिंदा बाकी है
उड़ रहा है अनंत दिशा में
जबकि कोशिशें नाकाफी है

एक  गाँव जल था परसों - नरसों
ख़ाक मिटटी तक हो गई थी
पर, वो गाँव कह रहा है अब भी -
वहां एक बाशिंदा बाकी है .

कई इम्तेहानों के शोलों  से
बेपरवाह गुज़रे हैं अक्सर ,
सामने शायद धुआं - सा है
यही आखिरी इम्तेहान बाकी है

किसी  दूजे जहाँ की खुशब अक्सर
हवाओं में बहती आती है
दिल के दरवाज़े खोल दो-
 अब बस इसका मचलना बाकी है .....

शाम हो चुकी है बेशक पर-
 आसमान में एक परिंदा बाकी है......

नया आसमां

चलो, इस ज़िन्दगी में -
इक नया आसमां,
खुद का बनाएं ..
कई सूरज -
जो दिन को रोशन करें
कई आफ़ताब -
जो रातों को सुरमयी बनाएं ..

रातों की गहराईयों से ,
जिनकी हम वाकिफ हों
सुबह की भीनी रौशनी में
हम खुद को ढूँढ पाएं..
चलो, इक नया आसमां-
खुद का बनाएं

जो हुक्मरानों सा तानाशाह न हो
जो हमारे माजी के ,
हर ज़र्रे को दिल से लगाये
चलो,ऐसा  इक नया आसमां
खुद का बनाएं

जो छु लें हम अपने आसमान को
जब कभी भी दिल करे
जब कभी ज़मीं पर
हम उससे इश्क फरमायें ..
चलो, इक नया आसमां
खुद का बनाएं

जब दुनियां में राजदान ,
कोई मिल न  पाए
किसी कुफ्र के दर से
खुद भी नज़रें चुराए
तब, अब्र का तकिया ,
जो हमारे सिराहने रख दे
और रातों के ज़रिये
हमारे भूले सपनो को बुलाये
चलो, इस ज़िन्दगी में ,
 ऐसा ही, इक नया आसमां,
खुद का बनाएं ..........................





 अब्र :- बादल ( clouds)
कुफ्र: -  ईश्वर की निंदा , अनैतिकता   (all the things unacceptable and offensive to god, infidelity )
माजी :-  अतीत ( past )
आफ़ताब : -  चाँद  ( moon )

चलो अब शाम होने दो

 इस उजाले को सोना है

अँधेरे के गोद में .

चलो अब शाम होने दो ...

उठेगा ये, जो अगली सुबह

कोई ख़ूबसूरत - सी  रौशनी बनकर

चलो अब इस रात को संवरने - निखरने दो ...

ये , की हर बार लफ़्ज़ों से भी ,

बे- इन्तेहाँ उम्मीद बेमानी है

चलो इस बार उनको भी

खामोशियों की बाँहों में सुकून लेने दो ....

अब कितने राजों को दबाना होगा

दिल की गहरी तलहटी में ?

कोई तो है - जो है वहां भी

ये बेज़ान कोशिशें अब जाया होने दो ...

ज़ज्बातों के तूफ़ान में

मुलाकातों  का दम तोडना ,

अक्सर लाज़मी है

शायद ये तूफ़ान अभी ज़ोरों पर है

चलो, इस तूफ़ान को अब थमने दो........

इस उजाले को सोना है

अँधेरे के गोद में .

चलो अब शाम होने दो .........

DIGNITY > LOVE?

 In the film English Vinglish , Shashi Godbole ( Shri Devi )  when asked by her niece  if she also likes that French man, she says with deep emotion  but with firm conviction, “ mujhe pyaar ke nahain thodi izzat kee zarurat hai”. (I don’t need love but some respect and dignity). Well, it was one of the well crafted dialogues in this quite engaging and educating film, but there was enough scope to read between this dialogue, to realize the subtle difference and tender balance between requirement of love and dignity. Did Shashi really need dignity, respect than love and protected care? Perhaps, justifiably yes!

 Like Shashi, there are many housewives who are inordinately self sacrificing and self deprecating when it comes to their family. They revoke all their personal ambitions just to invoke the dreams of their husband and  children. They are the essential and inseparable element if one wishes to define a family. But when it comes to their importance in the family, the same above statement can be used but in antonyms form. 

We cannot define a nation or realize a society if we fail to address and accept the individuality and importance of Shashi who lives in mangy slums as well as in gaudy mansions. For a not well educated and modern Shashi, there are many hurdles which she has to face on daily basis. Right from trivial negligence from her husband, who on the other hand is well- versed in all sophistry which society demands, to her  English medium- convent school going children. She is left with no choice but to take refuge in her daily never- ending domestic chores. But, on the other hand  if, that Shashi is well educated ,modern and confident, then, may be not in all families, but she has to relegate her priorities if it conflicts with her husband’s. For, it is rare to see if a husband takes a transfer or relinquishes his job just because his wife has been posted or transferred somewhere else. It is well evident fact that women are better manager than man, be it to manage a company or a family. But acceptance of this fact in the every corner of the society tries to make it a myth.

For a rotten society devoid of any moral fabric, it is essential that the first reform must begin from home. But, for this, we must first recognize the sole reformer (women), already clad in uncomfortable heavy veils, chained in the archaic moth rotten customs, who is still counted as non performing assets in the family. It is indeed necessary to first go down to the depth of understanding of what makes it a woman so unique in this world. What inspires her to remain serene either in stress or in distress?how does she play a solid role to integrate many souls while retaining her tenderness from inside?

It does not take a skill of rocket science to pay heed to her demand – some thorns of respect over roses of love. Today, when this world is  turning out to be more like a hell, all it lies in the hand of a woman to restore  its ethereal form. Because it is worth noticing fact that any war mongering nation and war ridden state is not run by any women .If it does so, there would be no trace of any rouge state or war mongering nation.

 Anyway, the story of Shashi  Godbole in that film ends in a soul raising manner. By learning just another language (English) through her pure perseverance, remarkable faculties’ and unflinching faith in her, she elevated herself to a level from where she could show her worth to the world.  Just before the end of the of film, she gives an astounding original speech in front of a gathering and her family about the  worth of marriage and having a family. No one but Shashi Godbole for herself, thereby, claimed her due dignity and respect and that was really more important than any form of love given by anybody .And, herein, lays a simple lesson and message for every woman, irrespective of any background to reclaim respect, dignity, confidence by and for her own, because dignity is something which if, given by someone else, often loses its  worth and purpose……………………………………..

DESIRES..................

In this world of extreme desires,

All we are in search - for something to acquire.

So we follow the same race-

In the face of life, in different case.

It is a world of 'shallow faces',

Many  betrayals and  gruesome traces.

We,though fight for search of good.

But at last, we find -only the deceptive truth.

This blemish world, when torn us out

And our head seems in slouch.

We,then  seek solace, in the lap of nature.

It is ever there always for every favor.

Countless dreams-
We ever cherish.

But, behind the bars,

We just let them perish.

Let us swim in deep sea of no shore

Where our dreams can see the vista of evermore.

That will manifest our courage under fire

and  our heart shall be  charmed with crown of desire.

HYPOCRACY-AN INSEPARABLE FEATURE OF INDIAN LIVES

Just recently, we were hailed as an 8th powerful nation in the world and simultaneously lampooned as a nation having most “insecure capital “in the world. First garners fame, latter disperse shame. Quite visibly, there is a Grey chasm of paradox between optimism and pessimism. And herein lies the seeds of hypocrisy, dualism, and double standards. Which is as lethal as venom of cobra for the nation.

‘We the people of India’, as stated in our preamble, since its inception, of a ‘new India’, have derived and adopted two separate standards to practice our lives than our constitution. Our politicians are axiom and epitome of this practice - "double standards’. Since they are our representatives, so, we too, are eligible to share the same guilt of ‘hypocrisy’.

The practice of dualism exists in two forms. First, at political platform, which is staged by our so - called statesmen.  Second, at social and individual platform, a domain, in which we exist. We are now-days quite accustomed to digest regressive actions and progressive preaches of the government. To understand this, take latest example of coal gate (coal scam). Govt. preaches in terms of giving more autonomy to CBI, but without any fail, through regressive actions,   solemnly committed to emaciate its soul.

We may trace the sign of prevailing double standards in society by considering two contemporary examples. First one is about glitz and glamour of IPL. second is about screams and squalor of Vidarbh - Marathwada (region in Maharashtra) which is horrendously inflicted by drought this year. First one is religiously supported by public and government; latter is indiscriminately ignored and sidelined by the same. First one depicts the shining image of the nation; latter refutes it by its cruel display of reality.We love to count and learn the statistics of sixes hit by Chris Gayle, but same statistics marinated in death toll of famished souls in some deserted locations creates no frisson.

Some news hungry reporters may make it quite newsy but they too loose the battle for keeping such reality as breaking news. On logical platform we may put it as, "it is just next to impossible to revolve around such decay". But on the moral platform we must ask to ourselves first, whey does the bruised life of a skeleton like malnourished infant not create any ripple of disgust? Why its unwarranted death is just meant to be added in the register of statistics so that, so called intellectual can flaunt their complex opinion just to win the war of gaudy, vulgar arguments.

At personal level, we need to introspect as well. We are taught in our childhood – ‘dahej lena buri baat hai’( it is immoral to accept dowry). At school level, we, all write, an essay – ‘DOWERY- A BANE’. We compose it with utter beauty of expression. But, in later stage of our lives somehow or the other, citing social custom, gluing it with prestige, we subvert this bookish moral into an utter acceptance. When a corrupt practice breathe over a long period of time. It returns to us in the guise of specious dogmas, rigid culture and baseless traditions.  This way we have come, and this has become our modus operandi – hypocrisy.

In time, when we are witnessing heart rendering incident ranging from horrific Delhi  (India) to Kot Lakhpat ( Pakistan) ,where  one innocent  Indian civilian – Sarabjeet singh  killed without any hint, we must address the  prevailing enigma of double standards at national level.  Equally, at personal level, we must conclude that whether we want to live by the hypocritical  attitude in life or the manner in which we are supposed to live which separates us from menial standards of animals.

Unless and until, we don’t feel strangulated, throttled in the tattered attire of double standard attitude- be it at national level or personal one, we will continuously be inflicted by rotten, hollow and depreciating standards of life……and as Fredrick William Robertson says,’ There are three things in the world that deserve no mercy, hypocrisy, fraud, and tyranny.’ We, at least, can afford to play like demon when it comes to hypocrisy……

जब तुम्हारा आना होगा...................

खूबसूरत से कोई मोड़ पर ,
'सतरंगी शाम'  के दूजे छोर पर
मेरा तुमसे मिल जाना होगा
जब तुम्हारा आना  होगा...

'बात' में कोई ढूँढ लूँगा
'साज़'  में कोई छेड़ दूंगा
जब तुम्हारा आना होगा...

लम्हों  को करीने से सजाकर ,
लफ्ज़ होठों पर बिठाकर
मैं तुमसे कुछ पूछ लूँगा
जब तुम्हारा आना होगा

कोई न हकीकत की बातें होंगी
न ही कोई फरियादें होगी
जो तुम मुझको देख लोगी
जो मैं  तुमको देख लूँगा
जब तुम्हारा आना  होगा...

एक और फासले का बवंडर
रास्ता तुम्हारा रोक न ले
खैरियत में होंगी सांसें
जब तुम्हारा आना  होगा...

रोज न होगी ऐसी बातें
न ही ऐसी मुलाकातें
इस 'लम्हे' को अपनी परछाई बनाकर
राह मैं अपनी बढ़ चलूँगा
जब तुम्हारा आना  होगा....................

ESSENCE OF LIFE.........

जज़्बात ढल गए हों,
 गर तो -
एहसासों को पनपने  देना.
जिंदगी की नादान दौड़ में
किसी  सांस को सँभालने देना .

मुश्किलातों के काफिले में
तुम फंसे लगते हो -
ऐ मुसाफिर -
मौका लगे तो काफिले से
खुद को कभी निकलने देना .

पल दो पल के मायने
छोटी खुशियों में नज़र आएंगे
ठहरना , रुकना , थामना कभी
उन खुशियों को आवाज़ भी देना

जो ज़बान पर  आ न सके
वो तो दिलकश लफ्ज़ थे
वक़्त आने पर कभी
उनकी दिलकशी निखारने देना ..


जज़्बात ढल गए हों,
 गर तो -
एहसासों को उगने देना.
जिंदगी की नादान दौड़ में
किसी  सांस को सँभालने देना .

मैं पूछूंगा कल -

मैं पूछूंगा कल -
इस शाम से
जो आज ढल गई है
कि क्यों ?
जो इतनी खूबसूरत हो कर भी
रात की काली बाँहों बिखर जाती हो .......

मैं  पूछूंगा कल -
इस मुस्कुराती सुबह से
जो आज दुपहर से पहले जल गई है
कि क्यों ?
बेहिसाब  रोशनी के लालच में
अपनी सुर्ख लालिमा  को,
आग  के हवाले कर जाती हो .....

मैं पूछूंगा  कल -
मेरी नींद में  हर रोज़ झाँकने वाले ,
एक सपने से भी
जो कही ओझल हो गया है
कि क्यों ?...........
जो  बंद नज़रों के दायरे में
मेरी बदहवासी का,
हाथ थामते हो
पर नजरो के  खुलते ही,
खुद डगमगा जाते हो ...........


मैं पूछूंगा कल -
इस शाम से
जो आज ढल गई है..........

कुछ चाहतें गुलज़ार थीं ....................

वो चाहतें हज़ार थीं

जो दिल  पे सवार थीं.

वो बेधड़क दौड़ती

 कुछ कोशिशें  गुलज़ार थीं .

न कोई कायदों की बंदिश

न शर्तें पहरेदार  थीं .

वो काली रात बहुत हसीं थी

जो दिन से चमकदार थी

न ज़िन्दगी को तौलने की

कोई साजिश खूंखार थी

न वजह - बेवजह ही,

संगीन कोई तकरार थी .

वो मरमरी आवाज़ की संजीदगी

सजाती हर एक शाम थी

वो रूठने - मनाने का खेल

जिसमे जीत, न कोई हार थी

वो नक़्शे - कदम पहचानने की

जो आदत समझदार थी

वो सड़ी - गली  हुरमतों को

घूरती नज़रें  कमाल थी

वो बेईमानी की काली ज़बान

न तुमको - हमको याद थी

एक दुसरे पर टिकी हो जैसे ,

 कोई भरोसे की बुनियाद थी

वो बात तुमको याद थी,

वो शाम मुझको  याद थी

इस भीड़ में खो जाने से पहले

वो आखिरी मुलाक़ात याद थी.........................

 कुछ चाहतें गुलज़ार थीं ....................

 हुरमत - मर्यादा ( Esteem, Reputaion, dignity)

 मरमरी -  गोरी , श्वेत  ( White colored )

ENTERING INTO THE HOME OF PAST MEMORIES.....

This time, i am more exited in posting this very wonderful and single handed - maiden Poem by one of my very talented friend.

After some few conversations, i received the notion of a skill which was clouded, hidden and unexploited. Following this, i urged my friend to pen down few drops of a very natural talent into a string of words.

In just a single effort, my friend didn't let me down and came up with this very original masterpiece... why i am terming it as a masterpiece because it is right from the bottom of a heart, tinged with tenderness and innocence and beyond the laws of a poetry writing..

 i am reasonably happy while forwarding this poem by my friend to you,  through my blog....

please have your say upon this.!!!

ENTERING INTO THE HOME OF PAST MEMORIES.....

Sitting on sand of memories,

 i revoked that moment again.

when i stepped into the gate of strangers (college),

sparkling,

but addled.. 

perplexed,

but exited...

by and by-

i tied up the knots of some cherished moments

and started a new voyage 

towards an unknown horizon..

acquainted with  hi and hello!

every day,

it was a new day.

every moment ,

it was-

a new,

invented,

and nourished moment,

as fresh as a new bud.

drifting towards the " bond of friendship"

scintilla of attraction and love

and then destined to a never "ending separation"

 all it continued and prevailed,

 until, that valedictory moment knocked the door

and left an unanswerable question for every face..

and  when that "relished moment" turned its face from us,

we finally stepped out from the gate of enjoyment like a novice

as we were , when we had entered into it,

with deep and  inseparable bond..............

sitting on sand of memories,

 i revoked that moment again............

मैं जानता हूँ...........

मैं जानता हूँ-

आजकल -

एकाकी- पन की गोद में ,

वो खोई धुन, तुम गाती होगी .

मैं  पहचानता हूँ-

वो बेबस मुस्कान

जो दुनिया को,

तुम्हारे अधरों पर 

इक नूर सी नज़र आती  होगी .

मैं जानता हूँ कि -

किसी याद का दबे पाँव, 

हर रात -

तुम्हारे सपनों में, 

बेवजह आना  होता होगा

पर दिन के 'निर्जीव कोलाहल' में 

वो दूर तुमसे बिचड़ जाती होगी.

महसूस करता हूँ- 

मैं  अक्सर -

तुममे समाये उस 'शून्य' को.

मैं  जानता हूँ - 

उसमे समां जाने की ख्वाहिश 

तुम्हारे दिल में,

 आती होगी.

पर, मैं  सोचता हूँ-

 जब भी, 

तुम्हारे उन 'खूबसूरत लम्हों' को 

यकीन है मुझे ,

कि उनकी शरारत 

तुम्हारी  आँखों के,

किसी कोने में ,

एक हलकी सी चमक छोड़ जाती होंगी ....

मैं जानता हूँ-

आजकल -

एकाकी- पन की गोद में ,

वो खोई धुन, तुम गाती होगी ..............................

LET US SAVE A VOICE- A VOICE OF FREEDOM

They came, they saw, they roared and eventually they conquered, the very basic freedom of an individual- "the freedom of expression”.

Every now and then, they try to manifest themselves as a singular protagonist and protectionist of society, its culture , humanity and religion.

One can find and identify them on TV screens explaining, with their mediocre and stinking ideologies that how the western culture is responsible for subversion of so called flawless Indian culture.They blabber on the subjects and issues for which they are as equal as illiterate.

Yes!, Few identify them as -” Self appointed guardian” of society which is quite moderate adjective for  them . But few pick them , flog them and aptly call them as- “ bunch of self appointed psychotic morons”. More specifically, they are no less than a vicious virus which spreads the disease of intolerance, inhumanity  by using an ugly tool of “ hurting religious and social sentiments” to eat away the flesh of freedom of a person day in and day out.

The various species of this specific virus ranges from Khap panchayats to frenzied political outfits to alleged protectionists of religion , moral and ethical values. Such fanatics , jingoists and more importantly misogynists does not deserve the word “ Guardian”, as it simply reflects and portrays a sense of affection, care and protection form every evil- eye. Instead, such bunch of psychopaths, morons or by whichever name we despise them , leave no stone unturned to turn every individual into a rigid lifeless monument flaunting some imposed values and culture.

Recent tragic incident of Delhi gives us an opportunity to identify and scrutinize such viruses, who are enjoying a lavish lifestyle in the guise of “ god man,  political leaders, cultural groups, and religious institutions . Their subsequent ridiculous and abhorrent remarks and comments starkly defines that what kind of mentality is prevailing in our political, religious  and social class and if it is not tackled within due time, we , the very "Mango people” of this country will be relished as a mango juice by the same viruses.

Kamal Hasan , shah Rukh Khan, Maqbul Fida Hussain, are few such names which are enough to explain the very sad state of affairs of our worn and torn out democracy, where the freedom to utter an opinion specially of women, girls is on ventilator.

Just recently, we saw and heard of  death of freedom of four school going girls of Kashmir, just because they dared to run a music band ( first girl's rock band in jammu and kasmir) and wanted to spread the only message of peace and harmony through their talent. Even in such noble effort, few morons issued a “Fatwa” sensing such display of music in public as – obscene, ignoring the prevailing obscenity in their own mind and thoughts. I always wonder  that what kind of scientific scale  or equipment they use to measure the level of obscenity and immorality etc.

God had sent us singularly as a human, just to enjoy a sojourn and ethereal beauty of this paradise- Earth. For this purpose, he bestowed us the inherent freedom  to move, walk, think and live the way we want and explore ourselves more as a human up to an infinite extent. And in this process if someone comes in your way , plunder your  deeply ingrained freedom in the name of religion, culture, nation then it will , ultimately, be a dishonor to our creator.........