anil gupta's blog

my time to go has arrived

said the spring

before the summer could have asked

the toll tax

of the smell of sweat in offing

the sprouts of questions
have taken over
all the minds, hands and the paths
all over, they have found willingness
of the hosts to let them be
why then have we become so sensitive
we do not even let our questions
subsist
on the soul
that survives
all the cyclones, eruptions of volcano
and also smiles

when i irrigated the roots of a tree
that was about to dry
a bird asked, why was i so concerned
how do i answer a question
of which the answer is known to her
i kept quiet
she repeated the question,
every time there is rain,
bird asks the same question
and i just keep quiet

ek baat hai, usko kyun poochh liya phir se

jo safa phat gaya, kyun usko padh liya phir sey

kahin hawaon ke haath ab lambey to nahin ho gayey hai

door bahut tha aasman, phir tumney chhhoo liya kaisey

when the steps are not straight

and the path is

you just hope that the

time will heal

the pain of gaps

in what we see

and experience every day

and what we hope, often do not see

but pray

for no other reason

then to mask our frustration

when waves can not carry the load, u just let it be

said a leaf floating ion the sea, bit sullen and sad

but not still yet

movement along the way

wind blew

was not to her liking

she alwasy resisted the trend

unreavelled the mystery of meanings

hidden in silences

like the foams settling on the sea shore

mainey tumhari kabra par ek dhoop jalai

aur phir bina poochhey , ek yaad chali aayi

bahut kheltey they bachpan mein, miljul kar jahan

aaj jara dekho,

us maidan mein, khar patwar ug aayi

—-
tooney jikra kiya tha, aksar akeley mein, is baat ka

ki sach ka daman thamey rakhna,

mushkil to hai, lekin namumkin nahin,

par jab kisee daag ka dar, chand ko amawas ki god mein sula jayey

to kya, koi sach kisee muh se, aasaan se nikal payey

i will now erase the marks of mist sticking to my glassses

i had not cleaned these for a long time

but then dust of a desire

to help all those who had a lot of fire

in their  eyes

had stuck my glasses

i could ooly see every thing through thes emarks

now that glasses are clean

will i stop seeing the foot prints

of my hopes

on the path

that paases through  the lands

which  had crops

of conscience

that will emerge now and then

liek a breeze, taking away my glasses from my hand

for a while

The little drops of dew have dried up now

do not wait for the dawn,

the smell of dried dew

has told the birds
not to make nests  in my garden

but you insist O!myna

to perch on the desolate lemon tree

full of flowers

fruits and thorns

but not sure

where to shed these, when

tumney yeh jikra phir kyun chhed diya

koi baat na ki, bas ek dard phir se bikher diya

shayad yahi hai dastoor is jamaney ka

jinhoney phul chadhayey they kabhi meri kabra par

unhoney merey angan mein kaanto ko yun bikher diya

chalo abhi waqt hai, koi justuju kar ley unse mil kar

Maa kaali ka kya kahun, usney meri jholi mein

jab diya , to sneha dher diya