Friday, December 16, 2022

Hiraeth

 एक बाड़ा था, जहाँ पर होती हमारी गाय थी

एक पेड़ था शहतूत का,

और उधर कोने में माँ ने पालक लगाई थी।


एक झूला लगाते थे हर सावन वहां,

भाई बहन पापा को बुलाते थे।

हम एक दूसरे को धक्का देते थे,

पापा बहुत ज़ोर से झुलाते थे।

डर लगता था, पर पापा से

झूलना मुझे भी होता था।

मम्मी को पता था शायद,

वो हमेशा पापा को रोकने को आयी थी।

एक बाड़ा था, जहाँ पर होती हमारी गाय थी।।


उस पेड़ के शहतूत कभी पकते नहीं थे,

लगते थे, बढ़ते थे, पर गिर जाते थे।

ठीक उसी तरह जैसे भारत के खिलाड़ी,

हर सीरीज के फाइनल में हार जाते थे।

एक बार बोला बहन ने,

उसने एक पके हुए शहतूत की टहनी देखी थी।

और उसी साल ही भारत भी,

बीस साल बाद वर्ल्ड कप के फाइनल में पहुंची थी।

हिंदी दैनिक ने भी सभी पंद्रह खिलाडियों के नाम से,

एक लेटर जोड़ बनाया था "BEST OF LUCK INDIA"

और कहा था

कि ये केवल संयोग नहीं है,

टीवी पर महान ज्योतिष ने भी बोला,

भारत इस बार हार जाए, ऐसा कोई योग नहीं है।

जीतना तो तय था,

इसका था तो मुझे पूरा विश्वास।

पर फिर भी ढूंढ़ता था उस पके शहतूत की टहनी को,

ताकि बढ़ जाए थोड़ी और आस।

हर रोज़ खोजा मैंने, पर मिली नहीं वो टहनी मुझे,

और फाइनल मैच का मंजर आ ही गया था

मैंने फिर से खोजा टॉस के बिलकुल पहले

थोड़ी ऊंचाई पर आखिर वो गुच्छा नज़र आ ही गया था।

पर हार गया भारत कुछ ऐसे,

लगा मानो खिलाड़ी खेल सकते ही नहीं थे।

मालूम मुझे भी था,

उस पेड़ के शहतूत कभी पकते ही नहीं थे।

वहीं मायूस खड़ी थी मेरी बहन, जिसने ये अफवाह फैलाई थी,

एक बाड़ा था, जहाँ पर होती हमारी गाय थी।।


एक बछड़ा था उस गाय का,

उसे थोड़ा सा दूध पिला कर अंदर बाँध देते थे।

उसे शायद और भी पीना होता था,

पर उसका काट कर हम हमारा हिस्सा ले लेते थे।

कभी कभी खुल जाता था वो दोपहर में,

घड़े बाल्टी का पानी गिरा कर बाड़े को तालाब कर देता था।

दूध जो उसे रोज़ पीना होता था,

उसे छोड़ कर माँ की पालक खराब कर देता था।

बहुत चिल्लाते थे सब,

पर मैं समझता था कि शायद उसे गुस्सा बहुत ज्यादा था।

फिर बाद में पता चलता,

उस रोज़ मैंने ही उसे बाँधा था।

शायद बचपन से ही, नक्सली मेरी राय थी।

एक बाड़ा था, जहाँ पर होती हमारी गाय थी।।


घर से दो गली दूर था बाड़ा,

सोचता था कि काश हम यहीं पर रहते

फिर कुछ साल पहले हमने नया घर बनाया

जहाँ पर AC और मीठे पानी की सप्लाई थी

यह वही जगह थी,

जहाँ कभी एक बाड़ा था, जहाँ पर होती हमारी गाय थी।


-राजेश

Thursday, November 26, 2020

Empathy

 The cute little salver

With golden fringes,

Filled with corn, nuts and pomegranate.

Pomegranate- red, juicy and her favourite.


The hanging swing

Made of muslin,

Decorated with crafted flowers.

Small, soft and the way she liked.


The lights in the corners

Illuminating the whole space,

But not too blinding,

Just the way, it should be.


And the music,

From her favourite genre,

Opera had always been like divinity to her ears.


She had it all since always,

Or as long as she could remeber.

Never had to step out in the cruel world.


It was a winter night,

Her heart went out for others.

Who have to roam miserably,

For food & shelter,

All their life.


So she wished:

"May all the birds in the world find a cage".

Monday, August 8, 2016

Love Has Smitten Us All

---------------

One odd day they met.
He said hello.
Perhaps that's all she needed.
& She was smitten with the Love.

He was oblivious of the feeling.
Lost in his own world.
He met her.
Loved the way she looked at him.
He looked back at her.
& She was smitten with the look.

They talked.
Talked of moon and the stars.
Celestial body they were.
But she decorated her courtyard of dreams
& She was smitten with the dreams.

Their path was same.
Same destination they were to reach.
They started it together.
He hold her hand.
& She was smitten with the touch.

Love was all she needed.
Love was all she had, to give.
Love was all she deserved.
He gave her what she deserved.
& She was smitten with the generosity.

Love is what she expected.
Care is what she got.
She knew the difference
He doesn't seem to know.
& She was smitten with the ignorance.

---------------

Lost in his own world
Loved the way it has always been.
But How can somebody love him.
Why would somebody love him.
When nobody knows him anyway.
& He got scared by the ignorance.

He told her about him.
Stories that were not interesting.
Dreams that were not dreamy.
She seems to like it anyway.
& He got scared by the generosity.

He has decided the path.
She was there to accompany him.
Together they started.
They hold hands.
& He got scared by the touch.

Moon and stars, she talked about.
They weren't celestial body anymore.
His concept of things was changing.
He got scared by the dreams

Loved the way they walked together.
Love wasn't in his mind.
The way she looked at him.
Didn't know what was in his mind.
& He got scared by the look.

There she was.
The very same she.
But still different.
Different in way, he didn't know.
& He got scared by the love.

--------------

She wanted him to love her.
Knew that he cares.
He knew that he cares.
Didn't know if he loves her.
They looked at each other.
Into the eyes.
Beyond their own reflections.
& They were smitten with Love.

-------------

Wednesday, January 20, 2016

Her Strife

Weather was getting bad,
Standing on my window, I could see outside.
Rain, thunderstorm and snow,
Anything could be expected, said the weather guide.

Beside the pathway With its spirally folded petals,
A lone flower bud was looking at me.
Among the big trees, 
the little thing was as fragile as anything could be.
Oblivious of what future might have in store for her,
Living in the moment forgetting any before or after.

Thought it will not survive if it rains,
But life can always get worse and it snowed.
Increased the heater temperature and pulled down the curtain,
And there she was to face her destiny, where it's end was certain.

It was a long night, 
And now the morning with grey windows.
Melting snow but no sign of sun.
The night, bud and the snow,
I reminded me.
There was no hope but still I rushed out to see.

She was small fragile bud,
How long it could survive.
Pulled out the snow off its stem,
It's petals were all white.
But she believed life is still out there,
And she strived for life.

Then behind the hills,
From the arrests of clouds.
The sun set itself free.
I looked at the bud,
And the flower was smiling at me.

Thursday, September 24, 2015

The Fire & The Fly

(After getting back the fire, he realized may be it wasn’t what he was seeking.)

Dreams are never real
Imaginary and momentary they are.
But sometimes you seek the illusion
Just to go along, somewhere very far.

The stones gave him the illusion once
Now they were just token of it.
No illusion he needed,
Harsh reality was to be faced.
Never felt tired of carrying them.
But time was to bid them a slam.

Threw two and saw a spark
Threw all and there was no dark.
Igniting a dry bush
Fire was all around.
So warm it felt
And the soothing crackling sound.

Light was the best thing that he could ever imagine.
But never felt the warmth before.
World was a beautiful place,
All lightened up paths.
Everything sorted out,
No more ambitions but no confusions either.

Among all the light and the warmth
There was question on his happy face.
Isn’t it all a lie?
May be it wasn’t the fire, it was the fly.

Sunday, March 15, 2015

The Stones

(After knowing the existence of light from The Firefly, he rejected the spark coming from the abrasion of stones, thinking it to be an illusion or a dream)


Moving around not sure if he should rather stay,
Didn't know where to reach but it was somewhere away.

Like the water returning back after a tide,
Silent and moving.
He belonged to the ocean,
But the sight of land was alluring.
The dark Silence reminds the pain.
and silently did he moan,
Got up, to move again,
Kicking some random stone.

A Spark of light,
and he cried out loud.
But he had to move on,
No dreams allowed.

Was a dream maybe,
But the stones reminded him of the firefly.
Collected all ten of them, 
Knowing it may slow him down, but no ambition to fly high.


Silently,
But something inside was screaming,
Maybe he wasn't dreaming.


To Be Continued...

Thursday, March 5, 2015

The Firefly

(In a dark tunnel, he discovers light when a firefly comes into his palm only to go back away, sooner than he could believe )


The tunnel of darkness with no light at the end,
His life was multidimensional but with no purposeful intend.
Wasn't sad, never knew that light existed.
Moving around not sure if he should rather stay,
Didn't know where to reach but it was somewhere away.

Then one odd day,
Saw a pinch of light,
Ecstatic it was,
Never knew the feeling before,
He Couldn't have asked for anything more.

Wanted to touch it, with no means to harm,
It came there as if only to be in his palm.
The tenderness in the touch , made him feel numb.
Wondering, can something be so beautiful yet so dumb.

World was a beautiful place,
All lightened up paths.
Everything sorted out,
No ambitions but no confusions either.
Light was the best thing that could ever happen to him,
It was perfect,
just by his side,
Small and dim.

A gale of darkness,
And it was all gone.
A moment of happiness,
And he was all alone.

It flew away farther and farther,
And vanished from the way.
Went away too far to be seen,
Or got one with the light somewhere very far away.

The tunnel of darkness with no light at the end,
His life has no dimension with no purposeful intend.
Should be happy or sad to know that light exist.
Moving around not sure if he should rather stay,
Don't know where to reach but it is somewhere away.



To be continued...