Breath To Breath

I love the meditative dawn

When clatter of my feet 

On the floor rises like a song

I love the meditative dawn 

                         Morning walks in with grace

                         And a cuppa steaming chai

                         Sipping I look at world afresh

                         Morning walks in with grace

Afternoon wraps in late 

A long shadow over nests

I mull over dreams unchased

Afternoon wraps in late

                           Dusk has a stealthy tiptoe

                           Forgotten it's unwept woes

                           A surprise spring to its toes

                           Dusk has a stealthy tiptoe

Evening with its repertoire

Of prayers and magical choirs

Healing wounds of yore

Evening with its repertoire

                           Night folds in like a child

                           Playing all day in the wilds

                           It's time in the womb to hide

                           Night folds in like a child

Days nights noons 'n eves

Breath to breath I live

No loss no gain no peeves

Breath to breath I live

Shared with Poets And Storytellers United

   

                               

Life Has Never Been A Bed Of Roses, You See!!!

खैर कभी भी बहुत खुशनुमा तो नहीं थी ज़िन्दगी

इसलिये

आज गर ग़म से  बोझल है दिल तो कुछ नयी बात नहीं

यह एक  तसल्ली , एक बहलावा , एक ग़लत फहमी कह लिजीये जनाब
दरअसल यह नायाब सोच जीना आसान कर देती है

बस

इसलिए

गैर सी भी अगर लगती है कभी दिन, रात के  दायरे में बंधे
चौबीस घंटे

मना लेने में खुद को झिझक महसूस नहीं होती

क्यूँकि

खैर कभी भी बहुत खुशनुमा तो नहीं थी ज़िन्दगी

Life has never been a bed of roses

The thought perhaps not so pleasant

Has yet consoled the tears tripping over the lashes

And bestowed an illusion to the heathen nights

When sleep eluded my pillow

Overall a misnomer, you may say

A flawed presentation, a melancholic surrender

To what could have been way different   

But the note of acquiesce ingrained therein

Has made living so much easy

Even if the days and nights seemed alien

Belonging to someone else, as though

Just the thought of it has charmed away

The restiveness of resistance
And that is the reason why
I have more than often
Soothed myself with those inevitable submission
Let it be…
Life has after all never been a bed of roses
You see…