To My Father

(Written moments before I was told he was no more.)

I didn't know you as an infant,

As a toddler, our interactions were few.

I learned to call you "Uncle" like all my cousins,

And cheer you during football sessions.

You had some role to play in the background,

While I grew up, unaware, safe and sound.

My mentor for public speech you turned out to be,

I knew you were proud; my first prizes, for to see.

Though no kisses or hugs came my way,

You gave me all the freedom - night or day.

My love for English, I did learn from you,

The knack for writing too; to you due.

You let me make my choices; to study or to wed,

Even though sometimes, my decisions did invite dread.

But you stood by me, strong and tall,

In my darkest of moments all.

No doubts, no questions, came my way,

A heavy heart, but a face always, always gay.

Such strength I learned from you.

Today, you claim your due.

Rest then, my Father dear,

This world is now too much to bear.

The Killing Of Dreams

When there is - the killing of dreams,

No blood flows; but there are

Loud, piercing and silent screams

When in your head - there's a waging battle,

No one wins; but all the time

Thoughts pull and push and make it rattle

When in your heart - a suicide ensues,

A death; each and every moment

Memories and dreams it does rue.

Dawn From The Car

Ashy red with flecks of grey,

Into the dark sky do stray.

Ghostly trees find a shape,

Losing the good night's drape.

Lights in the village yon,

Still glitter though it's dawn.

On the hill, down the way,

Fleeing dreams float and sway.

On the horizon there is light,

Colours merge, what a sight.

Birds come, specks in the sky,

Out goes the night with a sigh...

A New Religion

Walking is the New religion
No fees and no donation

But you must promise

'n stay away from sugar or cheese

Gear up with tracks and shoes

Learn all the don'ts and dos'

Make sure the shoes do fit

On the culverts do not sit.

If you pray at this altar daily

a new you will sing gaily

बिकाश दा

सफ़ेद, कपडे और बाल

भेद, कोलरिज का हाल

शब्द, जान उनमें ड़ाल

कभी, क्रिटिक की खाल

स्नेह, छात्रों का पाल

दा, अब सिर्फ याद ही संभाल...

    

लकीरें

लकीरें 

बंधी हुयी

और उन्मुक्त

मोटी

और पतली

टेढ़ी 

और सीधी

बनाएं

एक तस्वीर

अनोखी

और पहचानी

      

पानी का जादू

जादू किया है जिसने, वो तो है जी पानी,

सबुज कहो या हरा, या कहो तुम धानी.

गहरा है ये जादू, बात मैंने ये मानी.

नवीन कोमल कोपल, जैसे बोलें मीठी बानी,

बूढ़े पुलकित पत्तों ने भी कैसी खुशी जानी.

नूतन हुयी धरती, बन गयी ये तो रानी!   

\ 

Forms of Matter

The dal is being roasted
For chaklis crisp and fresh
Solid...

The smell it wafts all the way
Up to my room creeping through the door
Gas...

I go down and see
Inviting spirals dropped into the oil...
Liquid...

Happy Women's Day

Yellow and pink
Colours I only associated with women
A long time ago
Are there any such colors left now?
Lavender? Peach?

Kitchen and stove
Words I only associated with women
A long time ago
Are there any such things left now?
Dosa? Chappatis?

Dropping and Picking (to and from school)
Tasks I only associated with women
A long time ago
Are there any such tasks left now?
Cleaning bottoms and noses?

Happy Women's Day!

The Sun-bird and the Fruit-bat

the purple sun-bird
with the sun
glinting off it's
beautiful back
came this morning
carefully fluttered
it's tiny wings
pushed it's
long lovey beak
into the banana flower
drank it's juices
and flew away...

the black fruit-bat
washed and wet
with the monsoon
shining it's beady eyes
came this evening
carefully settled
it's webby wings
opened his
tiny tiny mouth
put it to the banana flower
drank it's juices
and flew away...

Morning at the bus-stop

Helicopters,
we said;
in school.
I tell her,
Dragon Flies.
Black, Red, Orange and yellow.
Wild Zinnias,
brilliant orange;
bordering on crimson.
Mushrooms white,
mushrooming;
under a tree,
and on it.
A Buffalo
black and grey,
led by a farmer;
in white pajamas,
and Gandhi cap,
comes,
goes in,
through the gate,
where the vet awaits.
The school bus,
brilliant yellow,
with green letters;
is already here.
Bye bye dear,
have a fun day,
at school.

Alamander

A new fellow
Is my friend
Bright yellow
At the garden's end

It's name is Alamander
Said my mum to me today,
"A creeper, very tender"
Makes the fence very gay!

Sunny flowers
Within fresh green
Rejoice in the showers
Oh! they almost preen!

Is it?

in silos
living and dying
death of humans
death of ideas
death of thought
death of a discipline
there is no stopping
knowledge
it flows
in institutes
and universities
out of them
and into
many a times
without
through teachers
and students
and those
who aren't
called either
then and now
and forever
sometimes
it gets
documented
other times
it's lost
once in
a while
it takes
us forward
it adds
and takes
us to
the answer
is it
still 42?

Afternoons

Afternoons
L o n g W i n d i n g
HOT and sweaty
Midway
Between
Morn and Night
Oh, so right
Just the time
For a bit of rhyme
And a sweet kiss
Should not be missed

Build the anticipation
For a bit of fornication...

What difference?

The world remains the same
Just tiny disturbances,
that too, on the surface.
What difference if she
decides this or that;
What will happen if
She chooses a scarf over a hat?

Words go round

Words go round and round and round
Sometimes it's as if they hound
Rarely can I pen them down
But they don't evoke, a smile or frown...

They fight for space, a chance to live
But they have, no peace to give
Is it a malady well known
Or just me who's crazy grown...

Don't I?

pulsates
gyrates
head aches

crick in the neck
what the heck
speck

a sensation
half the head tingling
bursting

can't bear
can't hear
even if others feel the same
what do i care?

don't I?

नानी का पेट दर्द

एक समय की बात है। एक थी कहानी। नानी माँ के मन में रहती थी। नानी माँ रहती थी एक छोटे से घर में। घर एक पहाड़ी के ऊपर था। कितनी सुन्दर थी वो पहाड़ी। कोमल हरी घास, जैसे कालीन बिछा हो मखमली। छोटे छोटे गुलबहार के सफ़ेद फूल। मानो हरे कालीन में किसी ने हाथ से कडाई कर के प्यारे प्यारे सफ़ेद फूल बनाए हों।

नानी माँ रहती थीं अकेली। रोज़ सुबह उठतीं ठन्डे ठन्डे पानी से स्नान करतीं, एक लोटा पानी भर के, उगते सूरज की तरफ मुंह कर, आँगन में तुलसी को जल देतीं। फिर कहीं खाने पीने का ध्यान करतीं।
नानी माँ खुश थीं। लेकिन सिर्फ एक तकलीफ थी। रह रह कर उनके पेट में दर्द उठता था। डॉक्टर, हकीम, नानी माँ की वो सहेली जिनके पास हर मर्ज़ का घरेलू उपचार था; सभी को दिखाया लेकिन कोई फायेदा नहीं हुआ। नानी माँ ने अपने नेवल में हींग लगाई, सौंफ खाई, जीरे वाला पानी पिया - लेकिन कुछ फर्क नहीं पडा!
अब नानी माँ सब से यही कहतीं की ये दर्द तो अब मेरे साथ ही जाएगा। इसका और कुछ नहीं होने वाला। ऐसे ही रहने लगी नानी माँ।
फिर एक दिन की बात है। नानी माँ बहार आँगन में धीरे धीरे टहल रही थीं। पेट का दर्द हौले हौले बड़ रहा था। तभी उन्होंने एक गाडी की आवाज़ सुनी। देखा तो एक बड़ी सी मोटर कार आँगन में आ खड़ी हुयी। दरवाज़ा खुला और एक जाने पहचाने से मुख वाला पुरुष बाहर निकला। बोला, "मां"। नानी माँ हक्की बक्की रह गयीं। ये उनका बेटा था। आज पूरे दस साल बाद आया था। यूँ ही। अचानक। नानी मां बोलीं, "बेटा"। माँ और बेटा गले मिल कर रो पड़े। तभी नानी ने देखा गाडी में से दो और लोग उतर रहे हैं। बेटे ने कहा, "मां, ये तुम्हारी बहू है और ये तुम्हारा पोता"। नानी मां की तो ख़ुशी का ठिकाना ही ना था।
उन्होंने सबके लिए फटाफट नाश्ता बनाया, और परोसने लगी। लेकिन पेट दर्द तो था ही। बीच में ना चाहते हुए भी मुंह से आह निकल ही गयी। बेटे को बहुत चिंता हुयी। बोला, "मां हम कल ही डॉक्टर के पास जायेंगे"। नानी मां ने कहा, "मैंने सब कुछ आजमा लिया है। लेकिन कोई फायेदा नहीं। अब कल सोचेंगे। तुम आराम से खा लो। मैं अपने पोते को सुला देती हूँ"। नानी प्यार से अपने पोते को अपने कमरे में ले गयीं और अपने बिस्तर पे लिटा दिया। पोते ने कहानी की रट लगाई। कहानी तो नानी के मन में घर कर के बैठी ही थी। नानी ने झट से सूना दी। बस क्या था, जैसे ही नानी ने कहानी सुनायी, पेट दर्द हो गया छू मंतर!

शैतान सूरज

प्रायः ही यह टीस उठती है;
हाँ, कभी उन्नीस बीस होती है।
कभी आते हैं बादल काले घने;
बूंदों की आशा, उस पल आ बने।
पर फिर वो झांके, सूरज शैतान;
बादल कैसे हांके - करे हैरान!

Conversation with my poet friend

Friend:
Bowing to the pressure of the times
my verses take on a brand new form
seeking the spirit of brevity, these rhymes,
called twerses shall be the latest norm

here is my tribute to twitter and tweets

new poetic form called twerse

in 160 characters

Me:
the world is hypertexted now
google rules the roost
facebook keeps the world in love
twitter gives the boost

Friend:
wikipedia is the modern source
of all that an individual knows
all human thoughts, opinions' force
are there in blogs, joys and woes

Me:
oh yes it's all about wiki

even the dumb can be cheeky

for all you need is mouse

to visit wiki that all does house