Author: anilg

sleeping long is like laughing
at a soap bubble getting into eyes
which you wish to get rid of soon
but then after that
cleaner eyes
see what you did not see so long
as if you really wanted to see
wish
bubbles can engulf me and i  close my eyes
till
i do not have to see any more, just feel, hear, and may be taste

sundarta ki paribhasha kai baar dhundi
lekin alag alag mili har baar
kabhi laga
ki jo dil se sachhi awaj nikleye, wahi sundar hai
par phir laga, ki ek awaaj sabhi ko to sukh deti nahin hai,
to wo kaisey sundar ho sakti hai
phir laga
ki shayad sundarta apni aawaj ko bahar laaaney mein hai
to phir sawal utha ki ki kya har bar
apni awaaj keval apni hi hoti hai
isee pashopash mein, uljha raha
sundarta murhjayey phoolon ki tarah sikudati rahi
merey sawalon ki ladiyan diye maine jalti rahin
na main kuchh aur keh paya
aur tum bhi to wahi ki wahin adti rahin

when we need freedom

we long to live in a jungle

assuming that there are no laws

no rules and no norms

but then ask a dear

or a lion or a squirrel

each has boundaries

to be respected

and every time  these are violated,

some thing happens

a flower blooms in a wrong season

a yearning arises when it should not

but in nature, nothing happens without a

reason or season

has the climate change caught up

with us inside now

when you turn sides

to find the same smell

of serene sticks of incense

you burned when you went to a dargah together

you wonder

why have you not been able to breathe this

every day, every night

and then comes the realization

why do we pray

only some times so intensely

why shall i ask you to wait

for the bells to ring the time

of laying the wreath

on the grave of those

poems which were written to myself

but which ended up creating

expectations all around,

every tree in bloom

felt that these poems were celebrating

the arrival of spring

when i had actually only narrated the

solemn demise

of certain hopes

that be better laid to rest

after all, do we sow the seeds in desert when

drought has alredy begun

should i thank you

for all the topsy turvy

roads you made me walk on

how else would i have realized the beauty of

pursuing paths

without any end in sight

but still so nice

so delightful

to pursue

soch bhi nahin pata hun, jo tum keh deti ho

merey wishwas ke jakhmon ko sah leti ho,

kya pata kis tarah itney badlon ke beech, akeli rehti ho

na chamakati ho, na girti ho,

bas asmaan ki kisi gehri ganga  mein  beh leti ho

tumhey shikayat hai, ki mainey saarey dard kyun diye na tumhey

chup chap yaka yak ro kar, meri aaho me apni khushia bhar deti do

baat to itni badi na thi

phir kyun toofan uth gaya

kitney najuk rahey hogey wo khamabey

jin par tika vishas, yuhin dhah gaya

har baar har koshish jo ki mainey

tumko thoda sukoon de paun

lekin kya bataun, byaj to diya nahin

aur  bhavanon ka mool utna hi reh gaya

do you remember, he asked,

what should i say?

why should i remember the part of past which is painful

the part in which i lost track of boundaries

and  the part about which  i do not feel so good about

but that part was a truth

and can we ignore truths because they remind us of our weaknesses

do we become stronger that way,

do we,

i do not think so

we must learn, if its possible at all

but not ignore, it reverberates

when the habits change the language

we forget the argument and pick on the words

why are we worried,

because the argument is trivial

the words are irrelevant,

but the meanings have been inferred already,

“i know what you want to say but are not saying”

why do we do that?