anil gupta's blog

man mein bhar lo swar karuna key har pal
do asshiward un sab khsan ko, jinse ho man vihwal
karuna ki kanjoosi na ho, naynao mein ho daya drishti
mahak jaaye saara jeevan, mahak jaayey saari sristi

when a seed is sown

do we bother whose seed it is

earth claims it

plants that have withered away

are not even around to submit their say

and the ploughman just opens the furrow

how do i tell you, o wind

whether you should  bring clouds

now or later

when you even do not know

warmth of whose heart will propel you

in which direction

among many branches that you had

i could have perched on any

but could i

i needed to be there alone

but the tree is not mine, nor the sky

i fly but even wings are not mine

they have their own limits

but not my heart

i can be there above and around you

for ever

no matter

if the tree lives or dies

you did not ask, if you are right or wrong, when life became a journey into deep woods of nothingness, you did not need to be reminded that way ahead could  end up in lake, from where one may never come back,

drowning in this lake is not worse than  floating alive on the surface,

do you wish me to remember

why the dust rises so often  now a days

when you come back

and gets into your eyes

you rub your eyes and despite all warning

persist

as if the dust will come out

worried about hurting the lids

over the deep gazes

but then you have often hurt yourself

do not do it again

will you let dust settle till some tears wash them away

when teh swans dont dance

but the waves get into a trance

who bothers, who waits

but for some one, the ship seldom sails

when the waves are placid,

the tubulence invites

and anxiety placates

and she thinks, its all waste

tantrums have lost their edge

but the winter bites

sweater you gave is not warm enough

may be i should take a cold water bath

instead of fighting cold, i should  assimilate it,

is that why you are volcanic, asked the boat

what could  have wave said,

she smiled and moved towards the other shore

the change that i forgot to keep track of, is on us,

the storm has passed

but when you were standing in the doorway

i was wondering

if it is like the rain that occures in spurts

some times on , some times off, but the drizzle continues

i am not wet, though it rained whole night

i was standing under the tree

which has sheltered me always

every time when

i have needed the shade,

will the dance of dark gazes on the floor of the house of hopes stop me

will your calls for returning to the same graveyard of a  sufi saint persuade me

will i ask again what i have avoided all these years,

the need to paint, write songs and dance on the floor

ruptured by the joyful waves

and the gazes of the eyes that have seen through me all, always

did i do wrong

by withholding what i needed to tell

so long as  it was done and done well,

and who was harmed by my action today

will it have harmed some one  tomorrow

if unchecked,

could i have done some thing

which would have harmed me

who will give me answers to these questions

you quote Gita to say, vivek ( self reflection) and sannidhya( company)

but my friends tell me i did no wrong

and my conscience says too that i was right

who would then  decide what is the right way

have others who followed this  path put others into trouble

will this have put me also in trouble

will i avoid only actions which put me into trouble

or also those which affect others

either in deed or morality,

how can a deed be right and still be immoral

may be when the right  means  get in the way of right ends?