Saturday, December 3, 2011

A poets vault

There’s a poets vault,
In it a million rhymes and charms,
Only the poets they fault,
Then perish with legs and arms.
But maybe little of a legend lies,
Though seek with open eyes.

Worthy writers do search,
On the only vault they hope,
The words of ease can perch,
And in a poets darkness grope.
To reach and smash book shelves,
But never true feelings they delve.

The amateur poet pens down,
Unleashing the words he writes,
But inspired by the suns crown,
His rhymes and charms take flight.
Digging deep and deeper still,
Yet just poems on a window sill.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

हम भी वापस जाएँगे

आबादी से दूर,
घने सन्नाटे में,
निर्जन वन के पीछे वाली,
ऊँची एक पहाड़ी पर,
एक सुनहरी सी गौरैया,
अपने पंखों को फैलाकर,
गुमसुम बैठी सोच रही थी,

कल फिर मैं उड़ जाऊँगी,
पार करूँगी इस जंगल को.
वहाँ दूर जो महके जल की,
शीतल एक तलैया है,
उसका थोड़ा पानी पीकर,
पश्चिम को मुड़ जाऊँगी,
फिर वापस ना आऊँगी,
लेकिन पर्वत यहीं रहेगा,

मेरे सारे संगी साथी,
पत्ते शाखें और गिलहरी,
मिट्टी की यह सोंधी खुशबू,
छोड़ जाऊँगी अपने पीछे ....,
क्यों न इस ऊँचे पर्वत को,
अपने साथ उड़ा ले जाऊँ।
और चोंच में मिट्टी भरकर,
थोड़ी दूर उड़ी फिर वापस,
आ टीले पर बैठ गई .....।

हम भी उड़ने की चाहत में,
कितना कुछ तज आए हैं,
यादों की मिट्टी से आखिर,
कब तक दिल बहलाएँगे,
वह दिन आएगा जब वापस,
फिर पर्वत को जाएँगे,
आबादी से दूर,
घने सन्नाटे में।

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

How Many..???

How many rumors and warnings until it all begins
How many moments of unease until the nation sins

How many regular meals until each family runs low on food
How many warming fires until their homes are as cold as their mood

How many alarming sirens until hope is hopelessly shaken
How many mothers' cries until their sons are not taken

How many lonely children until their fathers don't say Good-Bye
How many brave young men until no one has to willingly die

How many mourning families until someone's life is persevered
How many near-death incidents until rest is deserved

How many dark invasions until all the cities are torn down
How many stabs of pain until the killer's smile becomes a frown

How many bloody fields until the fighting is all done
How many gruesome battles until the end has begun

How many soldiers' deaths until a white flag is risen
How many shouts of protest until someone will listen

How many bombs thrown until the hatred will decease
How many more days of war until we are at peace.