वो जाली का दरवाजा
याद है मुझे उस पुराने घर का, भूरे रंग का, वो जाली का दरवाजा।
धूप जहां से छन कर आती थी, हवाएं बिना खटखटाए अंदर आती थीं।
बारिश की बूंदों से वो मुझे चोरी से मिलवाता था, (।।)
नवंबर वाले उन फूलों की खुशबू को... मुझ तक समेट कर लाता था।
याद है मुझे उस बड़े कमरे का, आंगन में खुलने वाला, वो जाली का दरवाजा।
नाक पर जिसका मैं निशान लेती थी, दो उंगलियां मिलाकर सोच बुनती थी।
पेड़ो की गुफ्तगू से वो मुझे वाकिफ कराता था, (।।)
वो मेरे उन दूर खड़े सपनो का पैगाम... मेरी आंखों तक पहुंचाता था।
याद है मुझे वो मेरा पसंदीदा कोना, जहां होता था, वो जाली का दरवाजा।
दुआएं जहां से मंजिल तक पहुंचाती थी, हर जवाब का स्वागत कराती थी।
उन चिड़ियों की दास्तां वो मुझे रोज़ सुनाता था, (।।)
उस दूर क्षितिज की अनसुनी कहानियां.. मेरे साथ रह कर बनाता था।
जब आज मुझसे बहुत दूर है वो, तो याद आता है मुझे, वो जाली का दरवाजा।
आज हर मौसम से मैं खुद मिलती हूं, हर फूल को अपनी आंखों से छूती हूं।
मन अब सबका हाल खुद ठहर कर जानता है, (।।)
मेरा दिल अब उन बुने ख्वाबों का रास्ता... खुद ही क्षितिज से पूछता है।
-
I don't know if you need this or not, but if you do, then come along-
"Billions of years ago", they say, "there was the Big Bang-
the beginning of universe - of everything that would ever exist"
Today, my dear, I want you to realise before feeling insignificant-
You're the echo of the greatest moment that ever happened.
"Each and every drop", they say, "counts in an ocean-
the one that nurtures every life from the birth till the death"
Today, my dear, I want you to turn the tired love-seeking eyes to feel-
You're the echo of that drop which ever falls to music the life.
"Wishes revert quicker", they say, "when they are selfless-
just a love for the love and see how the world changes"
Today, my dear, I want you to let go all pains and believe-
You're the echo of the wishes being dropped for you, secretly.
"Your soul", they say, "connects you to the supreme being-
guides your conscience and rewards you with consciousness.
Today, my dear, I want you to close your eyes,
take a deep breath, hold on your hopes and tell yourself-
You're the echo of the faith in the soul that there's is some
good stored for you too, that the whole universe cares for you too.-
हम एक से नही
तुम मुझ जैसे नहीं और मै तुम जैसी नहीं
फिर भी न जाने क्यों ये मन अब लगने लगा है।
जिस अक्स को सबसे खूबसूरत समझा था मैने
उसे देखने का नजरिया अब बदलने लगा है।
अगर दिल है मुझमें तो वो धड़कन फिर तुम में भी
अगर पंख है मुझमें तो वो उड़ाने फिर तुम में भी
हर समय की दौड़ है मुझमें तो थकान की इजाजत है तुम में
जो सुकून गायब चुका है मुझमें वो अभी भी बाकी है तुम में।
नयापन भरा है मुझमें तो पुरानी यादें महफूज़ है तुम में
जो कही लुप्त हो चुकी है आवाजे मझसे वो अभी बाकी है तुम में
हां माना तुम मुझ जैसे नहीं और मै तुम जैसी नहीं
फिर भी न जाने क्यों ये मन अब लगने लगा है ।
जिन एहसास को अभी तक अपना समझा था मैने
उनमें अब तुम्हारा नाम भी जुड़ने लगा है।।
शब्द हमारे भले एक से नहीं, मगर जज्बातों ने बांधा मुझे
जो सवाल मुझमें उड़ते थे, उनके जवाबों से बांधा मुझे।
रूप अलग हैं मगर ख़यालो न बांधा मझे
दिल वालो की कहते है मुझे मगर तुम्हारे दिल ने बांधा मुझे
तुम मुझ जैसे नहीं और मै तुम जैसी नहीं
फिर भी न जाने क्यों ये मन अब लगने लगा है।
जिनसे अलग होने पर गम होता था मझे
उनमें अब तुम्हारा नाम जुड़ने लगा है-
Beauty of a writer?
Your reflection begins
to lie in your words;
not in the mirror.
-
The line.
There is a line, they say,
between the right and the wrong.
Unfortunately! Ours don't coincide.
The path is unlikely overshadowed
by our different pasts.
The shadows conceal the lines;
For me, yours. For you, mine.
Remaining within our boundary,
we stepped into others' and
there we slammed each other for a reason
or should I say, 'for no reason'?
I didn't realise the depth
of your shadow and criticized the length.
You didn't realise the extension
and criticized the existence.
Just a moment if we had spent
sitting under the shadow
of yours and mine and listened
just as the porous soil;
our eyes and those shadows
hadn't been at the blame;
our relations hadn't been any poisonous;
and hearts never burdened.
The empathy would have bloomed
into new directions of righteousness;
and expanded the horizons
of the now-groomed conscience.-
Letter to .....
Dear ...
"When you hurt people, they begin to love you less"
.
.
What do you think?
.
Don't ask me. I have no answer-
Personalised taxonomy.
Class XI. Biology. NCERT.
CHAPTER 1.
The term - 'Taxonomy'
Characterise. Identify. Classify.
A process which makes biologist a 'biologist'.
Tongue-twisting Latin names; the struggles' gist.
Wondering - 'A biology lecture on its way!'?
No! There is something else for you to stay.
Stay for the thought I want to share -
'Taxonomy among humans is not rare'
Age: 2.5 years. Society. Habits.
DAY 1
The inculcation - 'Taxonomy'
Characterise. Identify. Classify.
A process which makes human a 'human'
Heart wrenching names; the gist of fusion.
Characterise:
with colour, with shape, with clothes,
with thoughts, with ideologies, with hopes,
with hairs, with lips, with voices,
with words, with expressions, with choices.
Identify:
for classes, for countries, for castes
for races, for genders, for pasts,
for money, for status, for occupations,
for power, for expressions, for relations.
Classify:
A step which differentiates 'biology' from 'humans'
among the weeds and tendrils of notions,
there creeps an utter horrendous confusion
'Homo sapiens' not being classified as humans,-
Your tryst with my choice
Observing a rose in my hand
how effortlessly you said, 'A common choice;
why don't you explore like a butterfly
instead of waiting for a valentine?
See those hued tulips, unique orchids,
exotic carnations or blooming lilies
or maybe those shining sunflowers,
gorgeous lavenders, or some rare species.'
Observing that rose in my hand
with courage I said, 'It's a common old choice;
of peace, loyalty, joy, elegance, excitement,
splendor, mournings, and even of valentine.
Jasmine's aroma, lavender's freshness, orchid's
mimicry, lilies' elegance, tulip's togethereness,
and even disarming beauty of rare flowers
would together surely score my rose 'less'.
'So now shed the cast of the petals and moult'
'Before that just let my soul roam free;
let it get into those petals and then you will see
how perfectly imperfections can absorb me.'-
If people could return in person secretly just once after death
on the day of their choice maybe with just one hundred breaths;
I wonder how much delighted people would have been in that case
on realizing they are missed for their souls and not for their face.
I wonder the satisfaction of great minds of Mendel, Semmelweis
and Copernicus;
on returning to this world where we read genetics, wash hands and
celebrate solar year.
I wish if those fighters could really return just for once and breathe
in the air of peace;
for which their blood irrigated, soul separated, heart gave up and
breaths just ceased.
Only then people might realise that the path of getting separated forever
was not a good option
for they are just gone; the ones left behind are facing that strong unbeatable
storm of emotions.
I even wonder how those interpretations of choices and possessiveness would change as everyone says or
would the choices be still alike, would perception be similar and would the
same emotions stay?
Things might have been different only and only if
people could return in person secretly just once after death
on the day of their choice maybe with just one hundred breaths;-