Month: July 2007

when my joy becomes a source of your pain

i am deeply affected

whether one should harvest grass in alawn

only if some one cares for is

going to pass through there

i have often demanded consideration

knwoing that you suffer every time

forgive me this time

I will evolve my needs

and pray that i evaporate these

desires into devotion

let me sublimate these

urges so that thes ebeocme apivot

on which we balance our love and

devotion to

our young ones

and all those who admire our togetherness

Do not look at me from the corners of your eyes

I will not be able to turn my face away

You can and you could always do so,

Is it the complaints that one has

From those one loves

Which cement the wall of trust,

Slowly and slowly

You may not need the comfort of the corner

Where we stood

Silently for hours,

Or of the grave

At which we prayed

For indefinitely elastic moments

I do not know

Whether we need to remember the

Resolutions that we made in support of the cause

That still binds us all

The wailing willows were quiet today

The valleys were sullen

When  the  spring burst into flood

Hail took  a heavy toll of all the unripe apples

The paddy seedlings were

Unwilling to stand up

Like the youth of the valley of chinar

I had to say

If you stand up, I can help you run

But can I make you stand

And the youth nodded

May be there is some truth in it

25 jun, 2007

a moment stood still when,

the hubble bubble was devoid of embers

the intoxicating chamber was singing a lullaby

i did not know

whether to sing

the song you had recited
when we were walking step in step in the garden far away

or remember those

who had died

in vain

is death ever in vain?

why did not we care

all the years when they dared the bullets

of those who had lost the way,

at least that is what some say

jamaney ko ummeedey bantata hun

apni saanso ko andar se kaanta hun

waham na ho jayey mujhko ki koi khaas hun

jis daal par baitha hun, useekokabhi kabhi katata hun

 

din bahut bada tha kal, raat thodi chhoti thi

dard bahut saha tha par, baat bahut chhoti si hi

koi kuchh na kahey, is dar ko nahin main manta hun

jindagi ko ek sachhai ke saath, bas lagatar haankata hun

 

mainey apnie pyar ko, bina hichak  sabhi ke saath banta hai,

kisee se kanjusi na ki, kisee chinta ke bina, apni jadon ko kata hai

sab par aitbaar kiya, kisee ne kya diya, bina iski fikar ke aur pyar banta hun

 

kuchh geeton mein, kuchh suron mein, kuchh saanso mein,

geeley aatey ki tarah,  apney  haath santa hun

 

jamaney ki parwah bagair, apney sapno mein to main kisee ki nahin manta hun

21..07

 

the paddy fields flooded with water

had embraced the transplanted seedlings

soon it will be drained

but I will have to wait till the next rain

when the field will have water

and you will handover the seedlings to me

with abundant caution

that I do not

Do not ask for it again,

said the koel

I will not sing the same song ever again

But then I was struck by this insistence

Did not you insist on singing this song many times earlier

Even when I was

Not always in the mood to listen

Yes, I did, but that was my choice

Asserted the koel

 

Now, this is my choice

I will not sing this song again

How could I have complained, after all

All the rules in this world

are made by the koel

Crow has to only plead that

his eggs will be nurtured by koel

ever and ever again

Do not ask me whether I get disoriented

While traversing the citadels of modernity

Global empires and the rustic corners of the country

I do not notice

This transition,

may be I do not

make the transition,

I am always in a cocoon

which remains unaffected by the trappings

of the time,

That does not stay still

For a moment, not even for a moment

Even if I wish, so much

The springs here would not be polluted

Any more, sages had prayed

But today the restraint has gone away

And the water has become dirty

Call them back

If for no other reason,

Then just to let them be

The Guardians of the springs

The rivers will then flow clean again

May be

Like a unique chinar of this valley

Which Did not ever shed leaves

But then we must have erred

In some ways  fundamental

The tree had started drying

The willows were saved from

The intruders  passing by

By wrapping the cloth

In which was covered, once,  some one

Who is no more around here

Do not ask me to write every thing about me

Because I would write

And then you would wonder

Did I have to

22 june, 2007