कंकरीट

कंकरीट का जंगल बन जाएगा ये शहर
सूखी नदी मे बहेगा रसायन का जहर ।

आखिरी पेड़ कहीं लड़ेगा  ज़िन्दगी की जंग ,
धुआँ  समेटे आसमां लगेगा बेरंग।

उसी पेड़ पर आखिरी घोंसला होगा ।
 शायद कभी ये आशियाना भी गुलज़ार रहा होगा ।

कुछ  कटे  पेड़  के  जड़े ,  डामर के नीचे सिसकियाँ भरती  होंगी ,
अपने अस्तित्व की टूटी साँसों से जंग लड़ती होंगी ।

ख़ामोशी की चादर ओढ़े ,आसमां लगेगा वीरान ,
अब न  दिखेगी पंछियों की मुक्त उड़ान ।

उजड़े जंगल ,बिछड़े साथी ,टूटे आशियाना ,शहरी चकाचौंध  की चम चम ।
इतनी रोशनी की नन्हे पक्षी जाएंगे सहम ।
अपनी माँ से बिछड़ ,भूखा प्यासा ,किसी बहुमंजिला की छत पे तोड़ेंगे  दम ।


कंकरीट के  उस शहर में कंकरीट का मंदिर होगा ,
किसी  का आशियाना  उजाड़, पत्थर की मूरत से ,
वो , अपने सर छत के ख्वाहिश करता होगा ।

फिर उसी शहरी दुनिया में भागता होगा ,
न हँसता होगा, न रोता होगा ।
बस भौतिकता के सपने बुनता होगा ,
 ऊँची ऊँची बहुमंजिला में अपना जीवन तलाशता होगा ।

फिर कहीं दूर और  पेड़ों की ,पहाड़ों  की कटाई होगी,
फिर और पंछियों के घोंसले जाएंगे उजड़ ,
पहाड़ों पे आश्रितों के सपने जाएंगे बिखर ,
चीटियों का ठीला फिर जाएगा डह ,
आदमी की हैवानियत से फिर फैलेगा भय ।

फिर उन्ही खूनी हाथों से आशियाँ साजाएगा ,
उन्ही  खूनी हाथोँ से मन्दिर जाएगा ,
रास्ते पे चलते न जाने कितनी ,
चीटियों की जीने की मुराद कुचल के ,
पत्थर के देवता से अपनी खुशहाली चाहेगा ।

भौतिकता से ना  मिली किसी को ख़ुशी ,
फिर भी बेकार कोशिशों से मन को बहलाएगा ।
फिर उसी कंकरीट की बस्ती में दमघोटू जीवन चलाएगा ।
आहों और सिसकियों से भरे शहर में बेमानी मुस्काएगा ।

आँखों में नहीं रहेगा संवेदना का पानी ,
सब कुछ खो के भी  हंसेगा हंसी खिसियानी ।

कंकरीट की दुनिया में श्रापित जीवन जीता रहेगा ,
अपनी फतह पर घमण्ड कर हँसता रहेगा ,
अंदर से तिल तिल कर मरता रहेगा ,रोता रहेगा ।

कंकरीट की चारदीवारी में धड़केगा कंकरीट सा दिल
कंकरीट के चाहरदीवारी में कैद रहेगा उस का मुस्तकबिल ।

प्रेम आकुल होके जब फफक फफक के रोयेगा जब उसका दिल ,
याद आएगा उसको तब ,पहाड़ पे था एक चूहे का बिल ।
याद आएगा वह टूटा घोंसला , याद  आएगा वोह कटता  पेड़ ।
नोच नोच के पत्तियों को जब उसको किया निर्वस्त्र ,
सोचेगा , उसके बारे में , तब इंसानी गुमान होगा ध्वस्त ।

कंकरीट की दुनिया में फिर जाएगा वह खो ,
कंकरीट के उन ढांचों एक रात फिर जाएगा सो ।

इंसानी माया से चमकता शहर में हो जाएगा हालाँकि मस्त ,
क्रंदन करता ह्रदय , ग्लानि से भरी सूखी आँखें , से जीवन रहेगा त्रस्त ।

प्रथम गुरु

प्रथम  गुरु

माँ  ने  सिखाया उलटना पलटना ,
उसने सिखाया चलना सम्भलना,
करवट लेना ,बैठना ,और बोलना ।

नन्ही टांगों की कंपकपाहट को थामना ,
गिरना ,रोना,फिर ,उठना और चल पड़ना ।
सिखाया उसने, हंस के हार स्वीकारना ।
भीगी आँखों से हंसना ,खिलखिलाना ।

सिखाया उसने नितत संघर्ष है ज़िन्दगी ,
निः स्वार्थ प्रेम ही एकमात्र बन्दिगी  ।

उसके आँचल में मिला स्वरों का ज्ञान ,
थपकियों ,लोरियों ने सहज ही करा दिया संगीत का भान ।

उसके होठों को देखा तो ,सीखा ,बोलना ।
साड़ी पकड़कर अनायास ही ,सीखा ,खड़ा हो पाना ,
अंगुली थाम के टेढ़े मेढ़े क़दमों से चल पाना ।

सिखाया उसने क्या होता ,अपनों का संबल ,
खुद ,ठिठुरते ,रात को ,उड़ाया जब अपने हिस्से का कम्बल ।

सिखाया उसने प्रकृति भी है  परिवार ,
हसीं बातों ने उसकी ,सिखाया ,छोटा नहीं संसार ।

रँगे हाथों जब पकड़ी उसने ,पहली चोरी ,
सीखा गई बहुत कुछ ,उसकी ,गुस्साती आँखें कोरी ।

सिखाया उसने शैशव में  ही बहुत कुछ  अनजान ,
याद करो आज उस प्रथम गुरु का एहसान ।

A Boy Loves A Girl -2

He Could Have ........

A  pounding heart, erupts pulsating emotions within , which ,haven't let him remain at peace today .
Moving all alone in this mighty rain , he hasn't resorted to shelter .People are running here and there but he is moving all alone embracing every raindrop .Enduring these raindrops, drenched from head to toe he feels he might just forget her .In the clamour of these rains ,he wants to get lost ,he wishes to forget himself, he wants to forget misery that he is going through .And surprisingly this escape from his own self is giving him some peace ,in this noise of thunder, amidst the commotion of the city with cars running over pools of water splashing muddy water all around he feels a bit relieved ,he feels he has been able to  distance himself  from his own turmoil that is more noisy than what he hears around .And with darkness taking over ,with intensifying rains and with a giant uproar of black clouds he feels a bit more comfortable as in this noise around ,outcry of his bewailing heart has been toned down. He can no longer listen to himself

He isn't here ,He is lost somewhere. He says to himself ," Distance means little when someone means so  much ." Although to him this thought seems to be  an imported one ,it isn't his thought, he feels .It lacks conviction ,this thought may comfort him a bit but it isn't a convincing answer . An answer is for a question but love poses no questions . It is subtle ,it is an act of complete surrender .
The language of love is loftier than the language that emanates from tongue throat and lips .It is a timeless language common to all generations of humankind which only heart speaks and only heart can listen.  More you will try to understand it more you will fail, it is something which just happens ...


He jolts himself from within and says to himself " You could have .. Yes you could have ..!"
Today in the morning, he saw his love ,on the road standing opposite to the rising sun ,her face bathed in the sunlight .  He felt as if the beautiful moon is facing the sun . Her face radiated by sunlight was not all ,the rays reflected the calm within her .The dazzle was not of the reflecting sunlight alone ,it was the radiance of a beautiful caring soul which these days resonates with his own soul .All he could see was her shining small eyes resting on rosy lovely cheeks and her face shining with vibrancy of youth. How can he describe her to one who have never seen her ?Can somebody describe the fragrance and redness of the rose .It is like the drop of the dew that slips from the petals of the rose soon one tries to touch it .Beauty is the language only  two souls resonating in love can understand,it is a  bliss .Beauty is like life that draws colour from the  earth and fills it beautifully on flowers and trees and provides the sweetest aroma to them .Beauty is a sensation beyond all the abstractions .
They write to each other .
It had been seven long years since he had seen her .He writes to her almost weekly ,they exchange photographs in their correspondences but seeing his love abruptly  made him go breathless .The rhythm of the breath had lost synergy with the heart beat. For a moment ,it seemed to him that heart had taken over mind and he felt he had lost control over himself .It was just a glance and within seconds his car took away from her .He thought to stop but he doesn't know what kept him driving ,he didn't stop .

That glance had brought all the seven years back .A girl full of energy ,childish and innocent had turned up into  a composed  young girl .A young girl whose face had an unusual poise and serenity gazed from her eyes . He had seen her in photographs that she mailed to him but today he saw her in reality .Photographs of hers were always beautiful but how can a photograph speak the vibrancy of youth  ,the liveliness of the eyes  ,the calmness like a lake with its blue waters in the winter.

A glance, only a glance has wetted the barren land of his heart. A letter from her always inundated his heart and soul with extreme happiness and an unusual ecstasy but today he felt within himself the essence of petrichor. A lover felt the same as the soil parched  by the scorching sun in dry season feels  when it gets sprinkled by the first drizzle .He felt the same joy as the lone surviving  tree would feel after getting splashed in the first rains .He felt that only he knew the patience of that tree in the arid land being thrashed by the hot  dusty winds withstanding the scorching sun to just embrace his love .He felt only he knows the tree's valour fighting ,for his life in the dry season just to get his love . A love which showers from the heavens which we call rains .He felt only he knew the euphoria of this tree welcoming the rains to drench him with all love .Love has many forms and  all it knows is to give .

Today in the damped lands of his heart he felt the seed of love has concealed ,sprouted and it is growing every minute .And in growth is the struggle .
He knows his path is the path of struggle .Death may embrace  a revolutionary anytime . He is a rebel. He has rebelled against the system that inflicts sorrow on the poor .His foot are set firm in the roads of revolution He knew he could have stopped the car ,he could have run through the crowd to meet his  love. He could have seen her face elated to see him .He could have said to her that her eyes looks beautiful and they spoke life .He could have seen her blush and lower her eyes in discomfiture while talking to him. He could have told her that he wants to go along with her, hand in hand, to Nilamgiri Ranges, lay down with her on the land ,face the mighty sky and show her how the stars look in the dark sky ! He could have told her that what Nilamgiri meant to him and every shrub that grew of it was the Lord's Blessing .

If life was as simple as his love he could opened his heart and showed his immaculate affection for her. If circumstances wouldn't have been harsh, he could have told that in all of his writings she is the one being talked about; that all his poems talked about her based on  what he could understand from her letters .If only love didn't mean to win over a person he could have shown that his heart bled in sorrow of not being able to confess what he felt .

But he knows ,

"Love is sometimes a serendipity but often it is a conquest .A pragmatic love aims at winning the heart of the  one whom you love."

And that is why he writes to lessen the burden on his soul and to move undeterred on his path. A path that he has made for himself ,a path which may be instrumental in bringing changes in the life of people who reside in the Niyamgiri. A path of revolt ,a path that he has set for himself to fight for the ones who are innocent ,one who are aloof from this mad incessant race ...

And he writes in his diary  ,"An inexplicable sorrow has surrounded me,the path of love has thorns and I was running bare foot ...You may not know but I have bled every moment forgetting you and when you are in love you know no boundaries ,it is unbound it is divine ...and reasoning loses its path on the ways of heart ,you keep going unaware ..Unarmed I was and you have killed me ...I feel I am a bird whose wings have been slashed and left to die every moment ..For a bird ,flight is its life ...I feel I am a prisoner who has been freed but he loves not his freedom rather craves for the shackles ,confines of the prison has become his existence."

(to be continued.....)

दस्तक

दबे  पाँव लांघ आया ,कोई मेरे दिल की चौखट,
अनजान सी ,पर अपने से ,की है आहट ।

किसी स्नेही की कामयाब होती कवायद ,
रोम रोम को हर्षाते ,मीठे एहसासों की आमद ।

अंतर्मन के सूखे आँगन में ,सावन की सी  रिमझिम ,
अंतर्द्वंद्व की तपिश , में ,ठण्डक देते ये मरासिम । 

दिल की तंग गलियों में आजकल ,नई है रौनक ,
स्वप्निल लम्हों को ,हकीकत होता देख ,छाई अजीब सी सनक ।

बदले बदले से लगने लगे अब रुझान ,
उद्वेलित होती भावनाओं का उफान ।

लगे ,जैसा नए परिंदों की आसमां में पहली उड़ान ,
पहली बारिश में लगे जैसे पत्तों में नई जान ।

बसंत  में  जैसे  नयी कोपलों का फूटना ,
आम के पेड़ पे कोयल का कूकना ।

जैसे बारिश का पानी छपकाते ,बच्चों के चेहरों ,पे चमक ,
नए नए फूलों की खुशबू ,जैसे बाग़ उठे महक ।

जैसे सूरज की असंख्य कीर्ति रश्मियों से दमके पूर्वा ,
जाड़े के मौसम में ,ओस की ,बूंदों से चमके दुर्वा ।

जादुई ,उसकी ,बातों  का होने लगा है मादक असर ,
जबसे दिल के रास्ते ,किया शुरू ,उसने मेरी रूह का सफर ।

खुद से ज़्यादा होने लगा ,उसपे इख़्तियार ,
जिन्दंगी में भर गये नए रंग ,जीना लगे खुशगवार ।

मन की गहरी परतों में ,सेंध लगाता उसका  चेहरा गुलफाम ,
बेखुद दिल में पैदा हुआ ,उसके लिये एहतराम ।

सोचता हूँ ,खुशकिस्मत हूँ ,जो प्रकट हो गए उद्गार ,
न ,तो भटकता मन यूँ ही रोता बेज़ार ।

घुट  घुट के या ,तो मरता एक और सच बेमौत
अगर दब जाता ,तो टीस बन उमड़ उमड़ के आता लौट I


कुंठाग्रस्त ,यूँ ही ,विचरता में तर्षित ,
एकाकीपन ,में ,मर्म होता निरंतर खंडित ।

और ,हो जाती दिल के दरो दीवार जीर्ण ,
सन्नाटा यूँ ही पसरा रहता विस्तीर्ण ।
न  मिलता यूँ उसके स्नेह का सम्बल ,
जीवनपथ यूँ ही लगता ,और ,कंटकाकीर्ण ।

टूटे हौसलों को न मिलता उसके प्यार का मरहम ,
तन्हाई के थपेड़े ,से,उद्विग्न मन ,और हो जाता बेदम ।

उसके भरोसे ने सीखा दिया हार स्वीकारना सहर्ष ,
संघर्ष न हो तो ,जीवन में नही मिलता उत्कर्ष ।

हार की तमिस्त्रा में यूँ ही झुका रहता मेरा मस्तक ,
जो ना दी होती ,उसने मेरे दिल पे दस्तक ॥

A Boy Loves A Girl

A BOY LOVES A GIRL !


While on a reluctant stroll on the lane, a “boy” walks down the memory lane.
Some very fine memories ,her smile,her lively eyes and midst all such memories, sorrow has circumscribed this "boy's" heart .
A boy because this 23 yr old man is a rebel ,he has rebelled against being a part of this incessant worldly race-a race where one celebrates the defeat of the other ,where success ,glory ,recognition marks the greatness .Where one is not oneself, where one is all clad by envelope of selfishness .In that man’s world he has preserved his innocence ,he has refused  to grow up. He is a strong looking man but there resides an innocent boy in his heart. An innocent boy today feels miserable.Can't you see scars on his tender knees ,he has fallen many times in his life but always stood up soon with determination,but this time's fall has not only bruised his knees ,it has left scars in his heart .
He feels he was happy when” she” was not there but he contradicts saying to himself that her company is what has made his mundane life lively.
An unusual dilemma has been running in his mind all this while and dilemma is that a maladaptive day dreamer has starting loving a girl.  This girl is a serene impulse, a serendipity for him. He loves her to the core, doesn't want to lose her but is afraid of confessing.He has loved her in silence,because in silence there is no rejection.In silence only "he " and "she" reside ,aloof from this world.In silence ,his love dwells.But what is love if it left unexpressed? 
An unexpressed love hurts and wound you from within. It bleeds within you, it pleads to set free .The burden of an unexpressed love tear apart your soul. There is nothing more painful than an untold truth concealed within the four walls of the heart .Truth can never remain hidden .It is like diamond in coal mine .It glitters, it finds way to get expressed sometimes  but a boy who has been taught not to  show what he feels ;a boy who has been taught that showing weakness is not the sign of a “man”;that to cry and burst into tears is something feminine ; that man is born to compete ,succeed, win and conquer  suppresses the truth into numerous layers of his heart .At times he feels layers are so many that he himself gets puzzled on the thought that whether he loves her or not .Suppression has killed his conviction he feels he is deceiving himself

Today, he hasn't been able to sleep, he sees through the window, he sees darkness unusual silence has enveloped the street ; cool breeze is not soothing as always have been .The rustling of the autumn leaves ,the cool breeze are all singing the songs of melancholy in unison. The falling autumn leaves he sees......For the first time in 23 years, he is feeling the pain of segregation .Existence knows only two things: genesis and separation, all else is struggle with the existence itself. And today he feels bereaved for the falling autumn leaves.
It is not that chilly but he is all through in dilemma .A silence all around is in complete contrast with the clamor of his inner self. A boy who has  been struggling to set his feet firm to tread on this man’s world has been  thrashed by strokes of love .Love is prerogative of courageous ,He is timid ,He fears what all resolve he has gathered to face this world will once again get diluted in the volumes of love .He fears his integrity will not remain intact .To love is to lose yourself .The “boy” is already struggling to make a mark on his ambitious trail and a girl has captured his heart .He knows no way to escape from here on. He has been trapped .What is the most agonizing thing? He wants to get her but his apprehensions have halted his voyage .A voyage on which he is ready to go, with his tender emotions accompanying him to her heart but to love a person is to win over that person and this “boy” who is a 23 year old man hasn't known to win .
He wants to tell her what she means to him but he fears if she will not understand then he will lose a friend also .Those lively discussions; those random topics –he wants these to never to end .He knows if she feels unusual about his inclination then she will even quit talking. A boy who has faced a long phase of solitude and segregation never wants the communication to get halted .He loves her to the core but even he doesn't know whether she loves him or not!
Today he feels he should have resorted to alcohol, he just want to escape from mist of despair that is surrounding but he is a wrestler .Today he is fighting with himself .Impulsive impatient urges are today fighting with the disciplined ones! A lovesick falling in love is no big surprise and moreover the girl he loves knows nothing about how he feels for her .The intensity is something which reflects from eyes but diffident boy hardly looks into her eyes ,he know once he does that ,whatever fractured resolve he has, will diminish and then it will be hard to recuperate .

Two silent ends of a river never meet. He wants to meet her .he wants to jaunt along with her hands in hands to a place where there is silence ,where they are all alone ,where his silence can talk ,where his eyes can speak what his heart could not speak …….

THE MADMAN

Part 1
Asleep was he near a bin,
People around, running to stand under a tin
As rain was intensifying; droplets were prickly as pin
How lethargic and torpid? Why he lies still, not saving his skin?
Lying under his tattered and filthy shawl, unaffected by bin's stink
From holes in the shawl evident was his eyes' blink
"Liquor" – in unison many minds' cling
At the time when drain channels started brimming
Evident under his shawl was his shrinking
Chaotic state might have disturbed him or shawl might have started dripping
Whatever would be the reason, the wise men were only speculating
While speculations could have become assertion, we saw the giant rising
Throwing his soggy shawl in air, Oh! He ran naked and shouting
Looked as if some dormant volcano erupting
Some men and women laughed, while some ran gasping
Madman, madman said some youth standing
Some people nodded their heads in confirmation
This was his proper appellation
Because attire in which he was, left no suspicion
Rain stopped but soon in the street grew an unusual agitation
Some youth crowded around him that caused him irritation
Roared he, in the circle of wise men, attacked in aggression
All were ready with impious preparation
Stones, sticks, punch and kicks, he received as fierce retaliation
He fell on the road; bleeding at culmination; crowded by sane civilization
Melancholy and misfortune was his face's lone reflection
Through the street, he moved with a strange determination
Speaking to himself or sometimes roaring his own proclamation
In the world where sanity prevails, suffers from social separation
Some named him a wanderer while some named lunatic
As he moves devoid of materialistic possession
Some wise men speculated the state as devilish possession
While for some it was, wrath of gods that demolished his true identification
For some, it seems like a ceaseless obsession
Why is he so? Remains everybody's inquisition
Part 2
The wanderer goes on, cherishing his freedom; celebrating solitude
Shuns the beaten track of men, moves aloof and alone in the world rotund
Where people wear masks of self
In the world where hypocrisy and hatred dwells
Original self for many purposes has to be shelved
They wear a plastic smile
Hide the corruption imbibed in the heart for a while
For it may lead to a denial
With selfish intentions, they talk to seek approval
Innocence and selfishness seems to them comical
These do not affect their senses so rational
So they call him eccentric and irrational
They call him mad man
Devoid of identity, instead seems to be a wise man
For he knows nature's essential
Selfish corrodes the inner self,
Wounds due to corrosion would not heal, will remain perennial
He rebels against the veil of illusion
Hates this world full of pretensions
People lie to themselves
Still take pride, telling their identification
The rebel wanderer questions them
But they sneak past the veil in prevention
They call him mad
Wise he is, left the selfish ways where the world treads
Where hypocrisy, hatred, ego is widespread
Alone he moves, in the world where people are born dead
Denying the voices of their souls' they still remain glad?
The MADMAN as he's called refuses what rational men said
Mask less he moves on, unclad (mask of self identity and ego)
Based on his intuitions he remains free and aloof
Solitary and freedom are the two implications
Breathes the madman in spiritual exaltation
(november 22 2010)

दोस्ती तेरी मेरी

                                                    दोस्ती तेरी मेरी 

आँखों  में तेरी देखा ,मैंने अपने बचपन का साया ,
चंचल सी तेरी बातों में , भूला मैं ,क्या खोया क्या  पाया।

मासूमियत की  चादर ओढ़े तेरा हँसता सा चेहरा,
बोलती  सी आँखों में बेफ़िक्री का पहरा ।

अकेलेपन  की  अँधेरी कुटिया  में ह्रदय  जब  रोया ,
तेरी  स्मृतियों को आँखों में सहेज के सोया ।

निश्छल सा तेरा मन , तेरी  अलबेली  बातों  का  मेरे  मन  में  डेरा,
तेरी शरारत और अल्हड़पन  से, जी ,उठता है मन  मेरा ।

आकांक्षाओं  के  उधेड़बुन में राहत की ठंडी  बयार बन तू आई,
अनायास ,अकारण सी मुस्कान बनकर तू कभी कभी मुख पे छाई ।

गर्दिश के रास्ते पे चलते ,तलाशें आँखें मेरी जब अपना   ,
बच्चों  सी  सहज बातें , सींचें  सूखा  दिल  मेरा ।

स्वप्निल संसार की परिकल्पना में ,मैं तेरा साझा
ऊंट पटांग सी  बातों  में ,  अनोखा  सा मज़ा ।

अज़ीबो गरीब  सी ख्वाहिशों  पे बातें  तेरी मेरी अलहदा ,
दोस्ती  तेरी  मेरी  औरों से  ज़ुदा | |