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