I Remember you

As the year draws to a close
I remember you
Your travails, your pain
Your happiness, your well-being
Your goodness and my shortcomings
I remember you
I remember you
As the moon traverses silently across
The foggy sky
I remember you
I remember you
As the stars alight the sky
I remember you
And as the passage of time
Continues unhindered, untethered
I remember you.
I remember you.

On Cold Winter Nights

On cold winter nights

When the fog roams

Over my head

I look at the stars.

I look at the long-standing trees

Throwing their long shadows around

I try to peep at the moon,

Hiding behind those trees.

Well, if you have seen

The stars, the trees, the moon

You will know that

The trees accept you

Just like you are.

They do not judge you.

They talk to you.

They listen to you.

Patiently.

They throw their dark and deep

Shadows over my head.

Enveloping me like a child

Letting me feel safe and sound

In their midst.

As the fog circles around my head.

On cold winter nights.

Such Boisterous Girls

Such boisterous girls

In the prime of their youth

Unshackled from the dreary routines

Of preparing for an examination

Laughing and shouting and singing as

If the world be damned

But their spaces secured

Dumping all the worries

Outside the rambling bus

Singing songs-

Of happiness

Of heartbreaks

Of separation

Of longings

Of desires.

Was it a cacophony?

Or a symphony?

Does it matter?

Relieved as if life had

Given them a chance

For redemption

For moving on

They laughed and sang

They sang and laughed

And I felt happy.

Such boisterous girls.

आँखें

कल मैं तुम्हारी हलकी पनिहाली

आँखों में देख रहा था

शायद तुमने काजल लगाया था

ठीक से पता नहीं

लेकिन उन हलकी गहरी आँखों में मैंने

कई प्रतिबिम्बों को उभरते देखा

चलचित्र वाली फ्लैश-बैक की तरह

कई चेहरे, शिकवे, शिकायतें, आशाएं

मुस्कुराहटें और घबराहट भी

ग्रीक नाटकों वाली

ट्रेजेडी और कॉमेडी की तरह

जीवन दर्शन के सूत्र उभरते जा रहे थे

तुम्हारी हलकी पनिहाली आँखों में

एक स्वेटर सा बुनता जा रहा था

ऊन के गोले सिमटते जाते  

पैटर्न उभरता जाता

तुम्हारी आँखों में देखते-देखते

पता ही नहीं चला

दिन कब का ढल चुका था.

शायद अंतिम दृश्य उभर रहा था.

धुंधलका हो रहा था

शाम हो रही थी

जाते-जाते मैंने एक मृग को देखा

फिर वह गायब हो गया.

और तुम भी गायब हो गयी

ध्यान टूटने पर सोचा

शायद यह सब एक

मृगतृष्णा का अंश था

मृगतृष्णा

छोटी-छोटी मुस्कुराहटें

छोटी-छोटी मुस्कुराहटें

फ़ैल रही है अधरों के छोर पे

मंदिरों के टिमटिमाते दिए जैसे

भीनी भीनी सी खुशबू की तरह

छोटी छोटी मुस्कुराहटें

हलकी हलकी सी फुहारें

मीठी-मीठी सी तान

कुम्हलाई, अलसाई, उन्नीदी  

हलकी सी शिकन

ख़ामोशी

और फिर वही

छोटी छोटी मुस्कुराहटें

Remembrance

As I walked the roads of this city
Taking in the convoluted smells
and polluted air
With PM 2.5 levels hovering above the danger mark.
I tasted some of its offerings.

Suddenly out of nowhere,
I recalled your round, little face and  the plump  shape of your body.
Your recognizable walk and quiet mannerism
Seemingly hiding boisterous energy inside.

I recalled that train ride
And how I scribbled in my notebook as the train started departing from the station.
Your memories that day
Filled me with sadness and emptiness
Creating a permanent void somewhere
Deep in my heart.

As I walked the familiar roads again
My mind goes back to the time
I first saw you,
Rather felt you
With the cold day stretching
Into the evening of uncertainty.

And then followed the days
Of agony and ecstasy
The joy of seeing you
Again
With the knowledge that I
Shall never see you again
Till serendipity works its wonder.

As I walked the streets again
I remembered you
For you had created a
Permanent void inside me.

A Rainy Morning

As the first rains of the season touched my cheeks

I remembered the soft velvety touch of your lips

Moving around to soothe my frayed nerves.

The rains were falling in really tiny droplets,

Not enough even to wet the cheeks.

It formed a delicate rhythm

Like a slowly moving track

Of a song from the old times.

I remembered you Mary Oliver

I remembered your longs walks

Your everyday affair with the nature

Its bounties, its beauties shone ever

so gloriously in your delicious poems.

I looked around and saw

The world coming to life.

The green leaves beaming with joy

As if they had received a new lease of life.

Cleared of all the dust and grime that settle

On these beautiful leaves (a gift of the modern city).

They were inviting to the eye.

Looking truly resplendent,

As if their core was happy.

And their happiness slowly

Permeated the surroundings,

Radiating from the faces of the people.

Forming puddles of happiness here and there.

I looked at the green grass

Which was making every attempt

To see the world through it tiny shoots

Slowly but steadily making their way

Out of the earth.

And the people seemed to be happy

After all the city gives little reason

For them to be happy

And the rainy morning

Gave them one.

And I was happy.

क़ैदी

ये शहर

एक बड़ा सा

कैदखाना

जिस में कैद हैं

अनगिनत

टूटते ख्वाब

दबी हुई सिसकियां

बुझती उम्मीदें

सूखती नदियाँ

मरते हुए पेड़

प्रदूषित हवा

गाड़ियों की चीखें

लोभ कि भट्टी में

अहंकार के ईंधन से

जलते लोग

और हम समझतें हैं कि

हम आज़ाद हैं.

सिसिफियस की तरह

Waiting For an Honest Song

Sing me an honest song

Straight from your heart

Without the restrictions of

Rhyme or meter or

Any other technicalities.

If you find words

It is fine

If not, then

Just go with sounds.

Let it find its way out

Of your heart

Without any pretensions

Without any judgements

Without any calumnies

Without any homilies.

I shall wait for your song

With the Sisyphean belief

That someday I would

Get to hear it.

And I shall wait till that day.

Searching for a Lodestar

When things all around

Seem to be in a broken state,

With broken people, broken hearts,

Empty souls, obverse morality

Abounding like grass in a jungle.

When things already

Seem to have fallen apart.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being

Is nowhere to be felt.

When the heaviness of circumstances

Make the will wilt like plants

On hot summer afternoons.

It is precisely in such moments that

Where do we find the wherewithal

To stand under the blazing sun?

Slowly but steadily being burnt

By its ever-glowing ember-like rays.

With the fear of the uncertain,

And the palpable sense of gloom

Clouding the judgement continuously,

Search for a lodestar

Becomes the de rigueur thing

So that we can save our souls

Even when clutching at

Straws in this ocean of life.

The lodestar would act

Like a compass of the mariner

Helping traverse the vast ocean of life

Touching ports of call

Loading cargoes of all sorts of emotions

And unloading them all especially

Love and happiness.

So, what would be the lodestar?

The texts? The word of God? (if there is any)

Morality and ethics?

Or plain common human sense

Which gets rid of obfuscations,

And shines brightly under the gaze of

human reason and compassion?

That would be another search

To be undertaken 

Ever and ever again

Till the human being struggles

And survives

After that the human being

dies.

Discrimination and Injustice

What is injustice?

What is discrimination?

I have often wondered

About its nature.

Is it something which can be seen?

Or held or touched?

Or is it not inherently something which is felt?

Like a bucket of ice poured over the body,

Numbing it for some time, as in Lou Gehrig’s disease.

After sometime, the numbness slowly goes away

But the coldness remains.

Then, slowly it starts sinking in

Invariably leaving a bad taste in the mouth.

Discrimination, however, subtle it may be

It just stands out.

Refusing to die down immediately,

Like a chicken whose head has been 

Severed but is still flapping its wing

And is refusing to die without a fight.

Discrimination shines light upon the personalities

Of both the oppressor and the oppressed, 

Like a looking-glass.

But are the oppressor and the oppressed

Just individuals spread out somewhere 

Randomly in the universe?

As one holy book says 

When an individual commits a murder, 

It is not a single murder

But the murder of whole humanity

And so, should be injustice and discrimination

That would be one way of seeking a solution.

Aaradhya

Aaradhya

That is what your parents decided to call you

Your presence has brought them

A certain sense of fulfilment

A sense of certainty and continuity

A sense of quietness and solitude

And answer to the question- What next?

And above all that sense of

Feeling good about life itself

As human beings, where

Do we go when we find

Ourselves burdened by

The enormity of day to day living?

Your presence would provide them

An escape from the existential worries that are a

Constant companion of modern-day human being

Creating your own small corner in the world

They can be proud of having carved from the

Soil of the world and circumstances

A little being which they can call their own.

Your existence now provides them

A meaning for their own existence

As you complete a year of your earthly existence

Based on the revolution of the sun and moon

I visited you and saw you in flesh and blood

You have still not becomes used to

the ceremonies that are held in your name

That would continue for a while

Until you decide to step in and

Take the reins of your life

In your own trembling hands

It is fine that we tremble,

Even be fearful when taking charge;

But it is more important that we take charge

Of our life and our circumstances

Life is sure to throw challenges

But if we could learn

To face defeat and victory

With same equanimity

Rest should take care of itself.

As usual I did not carry any gifts so here is a poem for you.

  

When Love Fades Like a Worn-out Pair of Jeans

Remember the first flush of emotions with

Blood rushing across veins

Those dates and lunches

And teas and dinners

Those umpteen number of shopping trips

With the objective of trying to spend some time together

Trying to fill some void in life

Left behind by the tide of time

Trying to build castles in the air

With a firm belief that these castles

Would hold themselves up even when 

Threatened by cyclones in life

That is what may happen when one falls in love

But then things can wear out

Love can wear out

As, slowly the observer found out

Love to be fading like a worn-out pair of jeans

The colours have already faded quietly

The fabric is torn at several places due to strains

Of time and memory

The heaviness of the middle has given way to

Indifference and normalcy

After all the habit has a habit of seeking new normal

And memory plays its own tricks

But then providence speaks up

That whatever is new is sure to get old

The wearing out process must go on continuously

There is nothing out of the ordinary

So, the observer shall wait

Till love has completely faded and wilted

And for the time being keep looking at

Love fading like a worn-out pair of jeans

हाथ से फिसलती रेत

कई सालों के बाद

जब मैं अपनी ज़िंदगी

के कोनों में झांक रहा था

अचानक तुम्हारा ख्याल आया  

तो समझ आया

तुम तो रेत की तरह थी

हाथ से फिसलती रेत