Wednesday, 8 February 2017

खुली खिड़की

खिड़की खोलते ही
इक मुट्ठी  आसमां  का झलक
जिसका नीलापन कुछ फीका सा पढ़ गया है
सुफ़ैद  रुई से कुछ बादल
ठहरते नहीं.... बह जाने की ताकीद में
दूर दूर तक नज़र न आते
ऐसे एक-दो पंख फड़फड़ाते हुए पंछी
मीलो-मील उड़ान भरने की कोशिश में
एक टहनी  हरा दुपट्टा ओढ़े
सुनहरे चूड़ियों के गोलाइयाँ  खानकातीं
आँखें चौन्धियाते हुए रोशनी के  झुरमुठ
उस पे झोंका एक परदेसी सा अजनबी दहलीज़ों के खुशबू लिए
और एक बचपन खोया सा

कभी कभी सोचती हूँ
क्या सबकी खिंड़कीयाँ खुलते हैं
आसमान के सतह पर?
वह सब्ज़ीवाला जो चढ़ती धुप में
आवाज़ें लगाता है दरवाज़े पर
"सब्ज़ी  लेलो........ !"
वह पागल जो ट्रैफिक सिग्नल पर
सर खुजाता है और ज़ोर-ज़ोर से हँसता है
अपने ही अनकही चुटकुलों पर
और नहीं तो वह रिक्शावाला
जो देखते ही नमस्ते करता है
कोई बता रहा था हाल ही में
उसने अपनी  बहन की शादी कराई है
मार्किट से चौड़े ब्याज पे  क़र्ज़ें  लेकर

क्या इनके भी खिड़कियाँ खुलते है
आसमान के सतह पर ?
या इक झलक आसमान की
तलाश में कट जाती है पूरी ज़िन्दगी ?
सूखे सपनों को पसीनों में  फिसल जाते देख
अरे ! इनके बंजर घरों में खिड़कियाँ हैं भी या नहीं ?
या बसर करते होंगे ईंट पत्थरों के ढेर पर
और राख होते देखते होंगे सुलगते रोटियों को
पूछिये तो इनसे खिड़कियाँ देखी  है कभी?
जिसके साये में हम बैठ लिखते है
सच्ची-झूठी मनगढंत कहानियाँ...... ?

पता नहीं

शायद ......

उनकी खिड़कियाँ ??????????????????????








Thursday, 29 September 2016

Shoes And Soul

Shoes on the rack
I wish to make amends
By changing size
She holds me back 
With whip in hand
Poised to strike
The lashings whine
I try in vain
To stifle the cries

Shoes on the rack
Tell me why
I can't tread beyond
The limits drawn
By that number on the sole
Are  my feet to be defined?




Shared with Poets'United 

Sunday, 18 September 2016

Mother And Child

I have nurtured hatred
unendingly so................
bags full of trash
valueless to the world
priceless to me
as all other worthless thoughts
churned and cherished
within the fragile membranes
                  of a puerile mind
now appear to have lost their shine
in the blinding glitter
of mushrooming malls

I have parented dreams
wailing in the womb
of silenced nights
throttled sobs
and muffled cries

I have sung lullabies
to sooth them to sleep
and woken them up
at the wrong time
fed them what
money could not buy
nourished them well
so that they  not die
an untimely death
schooled them to believe
they have been immortalized

Yes, I have mothered dreams
but never a child...


Friday, 29 April 2016

Skyscraper

From Google


Today I cleaned the attic
Dusted the mats
Ran the creaky drawers on their rusty channels
Vacuumed the drapes
Sprayed the freshener generously around
Then closed all the windows.....doors
Ventilators.............so that no dust
Should settle again on the bed, floor, closets
But there is one little hole
Down the corner (......workmanship of a nibbler)
Where the walls meet the floor
Cleverly covered by the frayed carpet
Which I couldn't shut....................(though I tried hard, believe it or not)
Like the blocked drain
In the shaft
................And the sun somehow manages to creep in
Through the slit lighting a room so dark and heavy with the smell
Of ancient baggage, mothballs and memories............
It rankles deep down..............(why I wonder!!)


And when I wrote a few verses today
...................On the vastness of the sky
...............................................Running meadows
.................................................................................Singing streams
..........................................................................................................Gurgles of laughter
The little hole in the unused attic
Kept on bothering me
With its narrow confines
Where the world seems to open up and beckon me...............
Yet I stay bolted behind


Shared with Poets United

Sunday, 20 March 2016

ध्वनि



गूगल से 


शब्दों से परे 
सचकित सशब्द 
ये अंतराल 

Thursday, 17 March 2016

The Battle Mates


From Google


I am no saint when it comes to virtues
My vices kill me on every breath
As well as those who dare to reform
My unhinged soul , my wayward will
Yet in moments of deep reverie
I feel a Oneness with the Universe
The abode of the cherubs and the chaste
The debauch and the demoniacal alike
I wonder whether it is the vile and vicious in me
Which senses a resonance with the chaos in the cosmos
Or is it the shallow-breathing long-captivated angel
Asphyxiating somewhere deep within
Perhaps my saintliness lies in just being human
However, the fact of the matter remains that
Eternal is the residence of Saints and Satan both
On the fulcrum of the Consciousness Supreme
The degree lies in the tilt of the lever
And that's so simple, isn't it?


This poem is shared with Poet's United for the Midweek Motif : Saint/Saintliness

Thursday, 10 March 2016

Murder Of A Rose


From Google


His earnest gaze pierces my soul
His clasp tightening on my hold
Lips quiver in innocent appeal
Eyes brim with moistened gleam
Promises fake futile foolish
Douse me with glimpses of a
Wishful future and joyful overtures
My limbs slacken and heart topples
As I give in to his impassioned zeal
The very next moment strikes the dagger
Its stainless shine trickled with streaks
A bloody rose crimson in colour
Is wrenched apart from its anchor-twig
I can hear its silent screams from afar
I gasp and fume and slowly resume
My plaintive plea however in vain ....!

Its weird how symbiotically we merge in each other's being
Weirder still how we devolve into strangled cries and shaken faith