To justify what one feels, what one intro & restrospects, what one experiences and what are the reasons that keeps him/her going parallel with this notorious and difficult world, at that moment one begins to write something. At times that become prose, that become poetry, that become a way of living. And one is never alone in this journey of sad and happy. Below is the order of poems, they are presented as.
- Stone & River.
- The Change.
- Things -- as they were.
- The Girl.
- बिस्तर, तकिया और मैं
Stone & River
It is the stone that cries, When a never ending river passes by. A stone, Half dipped in the transparent hues and blues of water. Often worries and coldly says: --whether will I stay put? Is my root foundation strong enough? Or I 'd be stemmed away?! Like miniscule playing pebbles.
And For separation, it cries. For moving on in the trajectory of life, it cries. For elevated change it cries.
As The stone has its own principles. A fuddy-duddy one's they say. Which needs to understand — That, Has a river ever halted for somebody? For anybody per se ? A fat no; Never would suffice.
It has turbulence, pace and wholesome behavior of its own. Stopping by is vague in its setting. It flows and traverses obstructions on and on.
So Go with the flow is wise or vice? A stone has to stop crying; Or not? It's not nice. Things will change. Would be justified at times.
See, Such is life.
The Change
Come let us construct a new globe once again. And incinerate the lively baggage which endures gruesome pain. If not God, atleast let us become a good heart one; With no abject demarcations, marginalized , divides & fear none.
Let that world not be round, Be it plain yet having a cubical ground. A fictional place pouncing to terms and sudden reality, Not a pinch of subjugated superiority and wretched inequality. Where all heads-hearts are doppelgangers by soul, Love is all it takes is a principle: takes not two but all to tango in a merry ball with zero brawls;
Nothing as a sluggish paranoia exists out there, Only present stays , future is obsolete and cared for less there; Where happy couples sit by the sea sparkle, Aim high, observe star-light and discuss life that shines and dazzle.
Contains chapter which withholds no politics in deeds, whereby innocence is the only creed. Where Juliet won't die by happenchance, folks pray. As she was Romeo's to stay. A nascent energy that bounds all together, Where negative things dies and gets tethered. Come let us make one.
Things -- as they were
Things have changed, so the realism. Fakeness is on, and this everlasting materialism. That childish naivety seems lost on earth. Booming up is coolness, so sadly simplicity gains no worth.
Days were when we sail paper boats and flew planes in the air. Grownups are we and now ain't one care. Those reminiscences of past digs deep in the heart. Then staying in present does nothing but hurt.
Those rhymes of kindergarden's , peeing in shorts. Playing at swings, racing when starts beating mom. Spending half a day out home, no tention and hurry. And today we do nothing but worry, worry and worry.
Suddenly yet time has taken its toll, That hilarious laughs and whisperings turned into yay's & LOL. Bygone are those old walls of innocence and naughty vibes, Only if I could turn back the clock God, thy help us, don't we come in your tribe?
Now has taught us to live in present and enjoy the moment, Or will become a victim to remorse and torment. I see I'm short of words now, And just quote to life, hey you're like so damn "wow".😂
The Girl
She and her-- Sick by heart? Somehow I was. Not anymore they were. Her pinkish par alcohol driven eyes have slayed me much ; A diva of substance; A fancy bred; A lovely-wanted pain in the head; An Apple of eyes; Ah! beauty, never have I witnessed as such.
Her razzling-dazzling hairs so lustrous; Winish-red lips making smiles in cluster. Poetic soulful words she utter, (At a suited distance but) Cut all my heart's clutter. Exchanging a word or two with her, Yes, a hardwired deep desire; But holy O' my, no courage I muster.
Indeed a blissful day came, And yet nighty-night was not to be blamed. She caught my gaze, By a moonlit shining maze; Then she walked through that laid rug, Stood by my side;
Sighs
Gave this nobody a tightened hug. That, embrace, longed for a relative time. Happened to be seventh heaven or a cloud of nine. Thus, after all this, she was all mine. A paen of emotions, I then narrated to her. A heartfelt lay she sang, Our arms in-around, there was no pang.
A Brief Evening Time
Beautiful much is her street in the evening, so serene is eye of the heaven that's slowly heading towards nadir. Wafting birds Are chirping soundly. Itsy-bitsy seems work now. A sense of involvement she observed.
बिस्तर, तकिया और मैं 💤
एक रात अपने बिस्तर पर ना सोया जो मैं, अगले दिन यह खफा-खफा सा रहता है मुझसे ; आँखें थक हार कर जब सोने हैं लगती , यह करवटें कई दफा है लगवाता तब से, मुद्दा "नींद भला आये कैसे" ?!
बेचैन करके मुझे मन-मन ही मुस्कुराते बिस्तर और तकिया , तकिये की बात निराली कम्बख्त जल्द ही गर्म हो जाया करता है | इसे इस -उस तरफ किये बिना ना रात गुज़रती, घर का भूला भूल गया, तकिया चिढ़ाता जैसे; अथार्त " नींद भला आये कैसे" ?!
अब माफ़ कर दो और मान भी जाओ ना ! तत्पश्चात भूल हुई तो बिस्तर ही बदल दूंगा मैं, अवसर शिकायत का न दूंगा कभी, सुनकर दोनों घबराये , बतियाऐ , मुस्कुराये फिर कहे : जान लेले पर ऐसा न बोल अभी |
तू हमको पूरा करता है, अब एक रात दूरी सही , तो सह लेंगे ; तू न हो तो अपना अर्थ -भावार्थ क्या, जा पथ-निहारे पर लौट कर आना! ना होते हम नाराज़ लाज हमारी रख लेना, नींद तुझे पलक झपकते ही आएगी , देखना , तू कहेगे , "नींद भला जाए कैसे "?!