बांवरा मनं...!

मन , ऐ मेरे मन...
थोडा ठहर , ज़रा सा थम...
कैसे कैसे छले मोहे, ओ निर्मम...
यूँ तो कहने को है यह मेरा जीवन...
पर जाने क्यूँ और कैसे जीता इसको मन...!


तुझ से ही बनती क्यूँ सोच मेरी....?
क्यूँ तुझ पर आश्रित सब सच मेरे...?
तू ही करे है सब झूठ किनारे...
कैसे रखे है मुझको भटकाए.....!


है बड़ा ही बेबाक और बेशरम...
न कोई दुविधा , न कोई भरम...
न कोई सीमा..न कोई रेखा....
सब कुछ करता यूँ अनदेखा...
जब लगायी कोई रोक-टोक...
तनिक भी न हुआ गति अवरोध...
छलआंगे मार जो बनता हिरन...
फिर न चलता इस पर कोई जतन...!

तनिक ठहर, ज़रा सा थम...
मन, ऐ मेरे मन...
अब समय है, तू मेरी सुन...
अब जो ऐसा हो की :
तू है - कह ,
और मैं हूं - सुन,
और मै ही - चिंतन,

यूँ तो कभी न रखा कोई बही-खता...
फिर ऐसा हो की कुछ समझ नहीं आता...
अब किया जो दर्ज इस नए खाते में...
कुछ बदल छटते और हुई रौशनी इस अहाते में...

अब जो तुझको जीता हूं...
तो लगता है वाकई जीता हूं...
यूँ न समझेगा तू यूँ ही...
क्यूंकि तेरा मन तो होगा नहीं...!

Thank You.

"May I come in teacher", he asked, with his one hand stretched out, and the other, behind his back. She, like a perfect teacher, chose not to be disturbed in her work, carried on with her lecture, just caring enough to suggest him to come in. He in absolute guilt, his head down as he walked to his designated seat, right in the back. Perpetual back-bench-er he was, just by the location though. Through out the lecture, he could not dare to look at her, at least when she was looking at his part of the class.

She was her favorite teacher, so much that it never occurred to him that this needs to be certified. So even when he did not look at her, listening to her was just very fine with him. Being late for her class, was bothering him a little to much. It was something he would never let it happen, but it did.

Being late for the class should not have been a cause of a serious bother, but if one were him, one could have lost his sleep and appetite to it.

Apologizing for the late coming, was absolutely not required and neither it was expected, in the normal course of conduct. But he was already working out possibility and opportunity to apologize. She was his favorite. He was annoyed that he was late, and more so, late for her class. But he was defense less this time.

It took him a little more than he thought to get something for her.

He has been working on this assignment almost for a week now. He was just not very sure, how it should be, eventually. After-all, it turned out to be a card made out of paper, with some color pens, and some delicate writing, inked purely by thoughts and an assortment of emotions. And finally, when it was the day to present it to her, he was late.

Throughout the lecture his brain was stormed by the thoughts of the card, the delay, and other similar derivative thoughts. All this time, while he invested so much effort and time into the preparation of this card he simply did not care for any proportionate reciprocation, it never crossed his mind.

The lecture ended on its time. And the bell rang. On a normal course of action, the sound of the bell would have set students on a stroll, but in her class no one moved, and fear was certainly not the reason. It was something else. She said, "You can leave, if you want to". Still no one did. So She said, "I have some work, I think I should stay here and finish it, unless you want me to go to the staff-room and do it". Everybody started to leave. She had her own style, a unique one. As everyone was leaving, she said to him, "Can you come here". It was like his complete soul replied in affirmation. She said, "I know why were you late and that is just fine". He asked in astonishment, "You knew ?". This time she asked, without any smile, "So, what have you brought me for the Teacher's Day ?". He shyly brought the card out, handed it over to her. He could not even utter "Happy Teacher's Day" properly, while she said, "Thank you" and left the class. It was the last class of the day, the day at the school had ended.

Back at home his mother asked, "Why are you so very late today, is everything all right". In reply, all he could do was smile. He smiled.

यूँ ही...!

इधर कुछ दिनों से...
सब एक अर्जी दे जाते है...
कहते हैं सब मुझसे...
यह बदले मिजाज़ तेरे...
कुछ ख़ास समझ नहीं आते है...!

इन शिकायत-ए-रश्क को देखूं...
तो मै भी सोचूँ...
यूँ अचानक हुआ क्या...
जो मुझको नज़र भी नहीं आता है...
बस कुछ है जो, होता जाता है...
घटता जाता है...!

एक नज़र को जब देखा आइना...
रोक कर पूछा मुझसे...
ऐसे तो तुमने पहले कभी न देखा ...
जो न मिला जवाब कुछ मुझसे...
तो पूछ ही बैठा...
कहीं किसी को ढूँढ़ते तो नहीं...?
बोला मैंने, हंस कर, नहीं...!
देखा तो वो भी हंस ही रहा था...!!

एक शाम...
शब् ने संकोच छोड़,मुझसे पूछा...
यह शब्-ए-गम, कहीं मुझसे तो नहीं...?
मैंने बोला, तुम तो पहले भी थी...
और आगे भी रहोगी, फिर..?
शब् ने कहा, हैरान हूँ मैं इस पर...
की यह आता तो मेरे साथ है...
पर न जाने जाता कब है...?

इससे पहले की कुछ कहता...
तारों ने झांकना शुरू कर दिया...
बादलों की ओट से छुप कर बोले...
पहले तो न ढूँढा करते थे, यूँ शिद्दत से...
अब क्या बात है जो हमे गिनते हो...
कहा मैंने कुछ सोच कर...
जिन्हें देखा...
क्या पता वो आज हो, न हो...
यह दिखने ओर होने का फ़र्क समझ...
वोह सारे भी हंस ही पड़े....!

LN4.

कल दिन भी क्या खूब गुज़रा,
तेरे साथ जो वक़्त बिताया मैंने,
तुझे साथ रख जो सजाया मैंने,
वक़्त को भी इंतज़ार कराया मैंने,

यूँ ही उसे जाने न दिया !

गम नहीं जो पूरा न किया...
तूने आने का वादा...
तू नहीं...
तेरा दीदार भी नहीं...
पूरा दिन बस तेरी आस में गुज़रा...!

Dance, Shall We.

The party was surely on. Some with clearer objectives / motives, were through with their dinner, while some had preferred drinks. The set up was a traditional small town one. A spacious banquet hall was the venue for the occasion. The music was in place. The gentry was turned out at its best. And what everyone was waiting for, The Dance, was on.

Some were flaunting their latest moves, some were pretty happy with their traditional but limited maneuvers. Everyone was alight. The venue was populated with smart boys and beautiful girls. The smartness and beauty, were enhanced or may be augmented, for sure.

It often happens, during a dance stunt, the Circle-Concept. Sooner or later you, in the midst of your own dance, will find yourself a part of the circle. Its like a monster, it grows and it won't be satisfied until it ropes in everyone, every single one on the floor. Now, if you resist, you will be re-approached until you submit to it.

So as it was, the dance was on, in circles, of course. The flashes of some antique-performers was up an bright. I, as expected, was right at the edge of the monster circle, and she was right at the center, for obvious reasons. It was like epi-center thing. And if everyone's eye and to what it was seeing, were joined to be a straight line. All such lines were to be converging at Her.

So, there was a time, my line converged at the epi-center as well. And she, then, faced me, raised her fist to her face, took out out the index finger and beckoned me. Offensive it was, that's the first thing came to mind and so I stared, conveying how I felt. And she, then smiled unapologetically. I, then started my walk towards her, making my way through the crowded circle. And as I stood in front of her, yet again, she smiled, and said, "So, you know how to dance". I said, "Well, lets see". Contrary to the mood and probably to her expectation as well, I just held her palm and placed the other one on her waist. I precisely don't know how long it lasted, but as it ended...the music was still loud, but everyone was almost still, the circle too was in place, perfectly in shape, and in the center, it was just two of us. "Thanks for the dance", I uttered, and made my way back to the edge of the circle.

यहाँ होना, न होना है...!

जो ढूँढा तुमको...
तो पाया खुद को...
जो जाना तुम्हे...
तो जाना खुदको...!

जब देखा तुमको...
तब देखा, पहली बार...
जो अब देखता हूँ, बिन देखे...
तो दूर तक, बस एक भीड़ नज़र आती है...
और नज़र आते हैं, वो दोनों...
अलग से, फिर भी भीड़ में...!

यह जो तुम्हरा मेरा लगता है...
अब यह बढ़ता नहीं...
कहीं जाता भी नहीं...
बस भीतर-ही-भीतर...
घर करता जाता है....!

एक मधुर धुन सी लगती हो...
फिर जो कोई एक बात कहती हो...
तो साज़ भी अगर हो...
तो जैसे गुनाह हो...!

जाना था, और माना भी था...
की, समय कभी नहीं रुकता...
पर अब जाना....
कभी-कभी वोह भी है रुकता...
कभी-कभी वोह भी है झुकता ...!

लगता है बंधा-बंधा सा...
और कभी संकरा...
और कभी कच्चा ...
जब भी इन शब्दों के लपेट में...
तुमको कुछ भी कहता हूँ...

पर तुमसे कहूं, लगे की जैसे,
खुद से ही कहता हूँ,
इसिलीये बस कह देता हूँ...!

इसी दिए के बाती और लौ...
तुमसे ही रौशन...
तुमसे ही कारन...!

You There...!

With you,
I go places,

With you in my dreams,
They become omnipresent,
and take me far and long,
sometimes to long-lost forlorn,
and at times to the hustle-bustle.

I sit atop, and find you...
in the clouds, in the mountain wind,
in the depths of forsaken pristine valley,
in the heights of immovable mountains,
Perhaps and may be, I find you at will...!!

Everywhere I go,
my fingers entwined into yours,
they never let go...

I sit atop,
A shiny, shapely, melancholy dew,
with a remarkable sensitivity,
in an altogether different tandem with gravity,
as close as to defy it...
glides and precipitates on me,
I watch it for long,
and then I smile,
as I see you in there,

The arms unfold,
the head is thrown up and back,
so that I could see you up there,
all over...everywhere...!
I am pulled to the ground,
and I oblige, most willingly,
Lie unwind-ed, yet engulfed in you...

And I remain...and you remain,
Right there, Right then.

LN3.

तेरे साथ में,
क्या कहें हम,
बारिश से हो गए हैं,

की जब होती है...
तो बस वही होती है...
गर जो नहीं होती है...
तो भी एक आस होती है...!

तुम्हे ढूंढे,
की खुद को ढूंढे,
आलम ये है अब,
की आईने में भी,
तुझसे ही गुफ्तगू होती है...!

Every Night.

Every night...
Night after night...
Getting sleep, became...
Finding sleep, and then...
Finally buying sleep.......!

Not long ago...
I used to find sleep...
No sooner I thought of it..!

But with time...
It became demanding...
I had to make efforts to find it...!

The first thing...
The very first thing...
That comes to my mind, before sleep...
Is the slideshow of the high-points of the day...
Unless, there is a one, which is too bad to avoid...!

If the flashes are beautiful...
I certainly do not mind reliving them...
With a few minor adjustments in the "time-space" set up...!

These first things...
Are never constant...
They certainly change...
Most certainly, every night...
And there have been occasional...
Guest appearances of tension and anxiety...!

But one thing...
Has never changed...!

The last thing...
The very last thing...
That comes to my mind, before sleep...
After which there is nothing, I can think of...
Its You...!!
Be there..!!

तितलियाँ

हरे गलीचों की गोद में,
हरी छन्नी जैसे आकाश तले,
उन सुनहरी किरणों की बारिश में,
कुछ नवजात ख्वाब पले.

ख्यालों की आंच में,
सेके वोह कुछ ख्वाब,
सिन्दूरी अंगारों सी,
चाहत की तपिश में,
खूब पके वो ख्वाब.

इस नरम-गरम व्यवस्था से,
फिर उड़ चले वो ख्वाब,
बन के तितली, बन के बिजली,
बन बैठे फ़िज़ाओं के वो नवाब.

रन-बिरंगी तितलियों जैसी,
टेढ़ी-मेढ़ी उनकी उड़ान,
हवाओं में तैरती जैसे,
मौसम की मुस्कान,
हम न पहुंचे जिस किसी,
पहुंचे वो हर उस मक़ाम.

तितली बना खुद को उड़ाते,
जो न कर पाते,
वोह सब हम उनसे करवाते,
विडम्बना से पूर्ण,
एक अनोखी दास्तान...!

It was You.

एक अनचली, अनसुनी,
अनजानी, राह का पथिक था मै.

न कोई निशाँ, न कोई मील-का-पत्थर...
साथ न कोई लाव-लश्कर...
उस राह के अपने थे मौसम,
और थे अपने ही दिन-रात...!

न थी कोई मंजिल,
न था कोई कारन,
और न ही कोई सवाल,
थी तो बस एक दिशा,
या फिर शायद, उसका भी भरम...!

पाया जो एक पत्थर,
बस यूँ ही माथे लगा लिया,
लगा की किसी ने फिर जिला दिया,
कुछ था उसमे ऐसा,
की जो भी ढूँढा उसमे,
वो सब पाया,
जाने कैसी थी माया...!

किसी ने कहा, है कीमती बड़ा,
रखना संभाल सदा,
बहुत सहेज कर रखा,
खुद के सुकून का कारन बनाया,
और यहीं गलती कर बैठा...!

जितना ज्यादा सहेजा,
उतना खुद से दूर किया,
इतना की लगभग भूल ही गया...!

एक रोज़ पुछा किसी ने,
बहुत सुकून दीखता है तुम-में,
सवाल का मर्म समझा हमने,
दिखाया उसको बड़े मान से,
देख जिसे, वो मुस्कराया...!
कारन कुछ बहुत समझ न आया...!

फिर एक रोज़, जब बदला मौसम का साया,
ढूँढा बहुत उसको, पर कहीं न पाया,
सबसे पुछा, पर किसी ने न बताया,

फिर बोला, वही एक...
है वो अब मेरे पास...
न खो, तुम अपनी आस...
जो पुछा, क्यूँ लिया तुमने,
बोला, खो तो बहुत पहले दिया था तुमने,
इतना ही प्यारा था तो इतना क्यूँ सहेजा...?
की भुला ही दिया............................!
मोह करने का यह तरीका,
कुछ ठीक नहीं...मित्र,

जो मर्म समझा उस दिन हमने,
उतारा वोह चश्मा उस दिन हमने,
सो आज भी उसे हाथ में भरे फिरते हैं,
उन्ही अनजानी, अनसुनी राहों पर,
अब जो मंजिल भी है और दिशा भी...!

LN2

तेरे आने के करम से भी,
क्या कहें अब,
कुछ ख़ास फर्क पड़ता नहीं ,
कुछ देर को,
ये चेहरा और ये आँखें,
रौशन ज़रूर हो जाती हैं,
पर ज़ेहन की वो बातें,
एक जान से कब मुक़म्मल हुई हैं..!

LN1

अफ़सोस न कर, मुक़म्मल न होने का...
हैरान भी न हो, उसके सबाब पर...
ग़ालिब, को भी नाम मिला था...
उस उम्र के आखिरी पड़ाव पर...!

Swan and the Phoenix.

It happens...
Sometime it happens...
When one is bound,
as no chain ever could.
and,
one is down,
as no weight ever would.

One no more gauges,
how much does it weigh,
All one wonders,
is there any other way...?

One doesn't gauge the pain,
all one wonders,
Is the existence, all but vain...?

All one does, is gaze,
as it all gets scraped,
And,
As it take swings,
from utility to futility,
as one tries to locate the lost parity,
with broken wings.

Its now,
when every meaning,
looses its regard,
be it the silver lining,
or the nature's bard.
the rescue remains a nemesis,
much like a desert's oasis.

The instinct to fight,
humbly departs,
reducing one, to mere tarts
Then one knows,
what it mean to be ash,
without the Phoenix,
Hope sinks,
In you...!
And its ironical:-
One has to live,
the death of the Swan.

जो गए तुम..!

कमीज़ की बांह से,
निकली दो सहमी हथेलियाँ,
बंद अंगूठा, सिमटी उँगलियाँ,
जो बात जुबान से न कही,
वो न कह सकी अँखियाँ,
और न ही वोह उँगलियाँ...!

न कोई बात,
न भरी आँख,
न कोई इशारा,
कुछ भी हमारा,
काफ़ी न रहा...
और दूर होता गया किनारा.

जिस नदी के सहारे,
पीछे छोड़े कितने किनारे,
नाम हमारे भी था एक किनारा,
बस थोडा ज्यादा बिखरा,
थोडा ज्यादा सूखा,
और थोडा ज्यादा सूना...!

और सजा भी क्या थी,
उसी किनारे रह के,
उसी नदी को बहते देखना,
जिस पर कभी हम थे,
जो कभी हमारी थी...!

हर पल, दूर जाते देखना,
हर पल, बस यही देखना,
हर पल, बस यही जीना,
हर अगले पल दूर जाती,
हर अगला पल, पिछले जैसा,
हम वहीँ के वहीँ ..!

उन सिमटी हथेलियों को जोड़,
बस यही कर सकते थे,
की खुद को गले लगा लेते,
पर यह भी उसका ही हक था,
सो वोह भी न कर सके...

इतनी वफ़ा तो निभानी थी...!
बस इतनी सी कहानी थी...!

निशब्द..!

तुम संग चलूँ,
पर कुछ न कहूँ,
चलूँ कभी रेत पर,
चलूँ कभी पानी पर,
पर कुछ न कहूँ...!

उकेरें मिल कर,
किनारा, कभी नदी का..
किनारा कभी समंदर का..
मिल कर उकेरें,
तना, किसी पेड़ का..
तन, एक दुसरे का..

लिखे नाम कभी,
कभी रेत पर..
कभी पानी पर..
कभी हवाओं पर..
लिखे हर वोह बात,
जो कभी कही नहीं,
लिखे और पढ़े, मिल कर..
फिर हँसे, खुल कर...!

ले कर चलूँ, तुझे मैं साथ,
पर कुछ न कहूँ.

कुछ न कहूँ तब भी,
जब गुजरूँ उन छोटी, सजी दुकानों से,
रंगों से जड़ी हर दूकान,
सजाती तुझ पर जो मुस्कान,

चलूँ जब उन पग-डंडियों पर,
कुछ न कहूँ तब भी,
जो पूछे कुछ तू इशारों से,
तो बोलूं मैं निगाहों से,
कुछ कहूँ उन नज़रों से..!

चलूँ जो तेरे साथ,
बिन कुछ कहे,
तो तुम समझ जाओगे न....?

Confusion.

Here I am,
Here I am watching,
Here I am waiting,
Here I am writing,
Here I am erasing.

Sick of this illusion,
whose symptom is this confusion.

Every time the stake is my peace,
Don't know, how many times I'll put it up on lease,
I construct this infrastructure around me,
With no courage to take it down,
Its a puzzle, that too a round one,
Its the perfume inhaled,
which intoxicates,
and doesn't let you breath.

When all the decorations,
all the wall pieces,
all the ribbons,
descend the wall it once embraced,
everything bites dust,
including what I trust.
When it all starts to fall,
Who would be standing tall

In silence I sing,
its the sin,
in whose shadow I remain,
engraved and embedded.

It can't be touched,
but it stays on me,
its weight, its pull,
all around me,
surrounded I am,
with no sheild or armor.

and when it divorced me,
got me married to the aftermath,

I stand and watch,
Lurking questions I ask,
is it just I,
or perhaps you just have masks.

Peacock.

ए दोस्त,
आज जो मुझसे मिल तू,
फिर तू, कल ही हो मुझसे मिला,या फिर..
बरसो बाद है मिला.

न खुदको थोप मुझपे,
न जता खुदको मुझपे,
बस दिखा खुदको इत्मीनान से.

बनने दे मुझे तेरा मौसम,
जिसका बने मोर तू,
ज़रा उचका अपनी गर्दन,
फैला अपने रंग-पंख तू,
बिखेर वो सारे सिमटे रंग तू,
न शर्मा उन पैरो से,
न छुपा उन पैरों को,
वोह भी तेरे उतने ही अंग.

ज़रा खुद को मुझसे मिलने की,
इजाज़त तो दे,
ज़रा तू दिखा,
ज़रा मै भी देखूं ,
कितना निखरा,
कितना बिखरा तू.

न लगा इसका हिसाब तू,
की वोह मेरा काम है,
न जांच खुदको, मेरी नज़रों से,
की, नज़रिए का फरक तो होगा ही,
और शायद लगेगा भी.

फिर क्यूँ जब तू आज,
मुझसे मिलने को आया,
क्यूँ खुद को साथ लाया है..?
न ओढ़ कोई चादर,
न लगा कोई रंग,
रह मुझसे तू स्वतंत्र..

ज़रा हम भी देखे,
मिजाज़ कैसे हैं आपके..!

Left closet.

Its a small closet up there..
not often visited, though..
neither by me, nor by many.

Dimly lit, but filled with fragrance,
Resplendent with the brightest colours,
and lighter shades..!

Nothing arranged in here,
Stuff just lies in this room,
Just as it was placed first,
All it carries, is a "time-flag"..
Primarily for chronological reference,
and an ephemeral "feel-it-patch".

Small windows, act as a sieve,
to filter in some light and air,
light and air of most exquisite class.

But, its a little strange configuration..
the outside voice doesn't really get in,
probably, filtered out as "noise".
and the inside voices, they stay...!
they echo and reverberate.

There are no doors, though.
One could just be there, or not.

In here,
crouched on the chair..
I have seen people leaving..
and I have ignored people knocking..
I am guilty,
and I am proud of it as well..!

Its my flesh and blood,
on the left side of my frame it rests.

Thinking...not so waste.

Thinking...does transform.

I thought, my request for:

That toy,
That dress,
That game,
That book,
That party,
That friend,
That career,
That girl,
That college,
That job,
That venture,

Would not be accepted,
and it wasn't.

And I also thought,that:

I might pass that exam,
I might get in that college,
I might get that job,
I might get that life,
I might get those friends,

And I did get them.

Now, besides the above two categories,

I think I have enough,
Which I didn't thought about,
Received un-wished,

Its been more than fair,
It always is,

And so shall it be.
May be that's the script.