Carry me home.

I wish to dress up for you tonight.
and I open my wardrobe
to take out
our favorite train journeys
wrapped in pale yellow envelopes
painted in monochrome.

A letter with a verse
cribbs-
"Carry me home."
picture source https://www.pinterest.com/pin/491525746810547742/

December songs(6)- And lost shall become found.

जो ढूंढोगे मुझको 

तो मिल जाऊंगा मै 

तुम्हारे हाथों पे बिखरे 

रंगों से निकले 

लफ़्ज़ों की खुशबू में 

जादू की तरह 

घुला हूँ 

मैं मिश्री -सा।

मन में तुम्हारे 

सवालों के पीछे 

चुपचाप बैठा 

सुकून -सा एक 

एहसास हूँ बस 

नहीं जानते हो 

बहुत पास हूँ बस। 

यहीं हूँ तुम्हारी 

पलकों पे जुगनू-सा 

बैठा हुआ हूँ 

न जाने मै कबसे 

कसक में तुम्हारी  

रहता रहा हूँ। 

कहानी-सा हूँ मै

क्या तुम सुन सकोगे 

तुम्हारी कहानी?

कहानी-सा हूँ मैं  

मै  बस चाहता हूँ 

की खुद से फिर एक बार 

बातें करो तुम

किसी दिन फिर एक बार 

खुद से मिलो तुम 

हँसी की तरह फिर। 

जो ढूँढोगे मुझको 

तो मिल जाऊंगा मै 

तुम्हारे चेहरे पे बिखरे  

सवेरे से थिरकती 

धुनों में 

संगीत-सा 

मै बसा हूँ।
  

picture source https://www.pinterest.com/pin/576390452290266209/

December songs(5)- upanyaas

तेरी कहानी है क्या?

क्यों तेरे लफ़्ज़ों में वो... 

उड़ती हुई, यहाँ 

मेरे कागज़ों पर, 

स्याही से 

रक्स करती है ?

ढूंढ़ती-सी मुझे 

मुझसे गुज़रती है।  

आज फिर, 

आस-सी 

मिल रही है, मेरी कहानी में 

उपन्यास-सी।  

 Picture source- https://www.pinterest.com/pin/512495632571702537/

December songs(4)- Will you write to me?

Come and draw,

in charcoal or chalk,

these syllables 

I have long buried deep.

To be known,
to be owned,

my syllables

but difficult to hear or see.

Do you know them as you reach them?
Tonight,

Come. And write

in sand, silt, mud or clay

My harmony.

picture source: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/147704062755038542/

Dec songs(3)- Songs of frozen bits of papers...

The lights of this room

do not go out these days or nights.

Bits of papers,

black and white.

Scatter on the floor

Every night.

Tired and torn.

Numerous,yet alone,

they close their eyes,

and still hope to rise, to fly..

when the sun rises again next morning

in that vast grey sky.

The day closes.

The toil does not cease.

Frost only freezes the paper, this body.

The effort,like dry ink,does not freeze.

I am one of them. 

And they are all of me,.

I lie scattered somewhere in those pieces each night.

Yes, they are all my pieces which you see.

December songs(2)- Fear.

Between, knowing and being.
Between, the ideal and the real.
Oscillates in a perpetual motion,
like this pendulum fastened here-
FEAR.

Gigantic, yet infantile.
Cumbrous and sterile.
Yet to which you still adhere,
Take it out now.
Depart,
from that abominable fear.

December songs(1)- Encounters with Morale...

हाँ, इन पहाड़ों की 
बर्फीली सुरंगों मेंं 
सर्दियों की,
                    धुंद- सा 
                    आसमां 
                    बनके। 

तुम छू रहे हो क्यों 
मेरे सवालों को,
                     शाख- सा 
                     आसरा 
                     बनके। 


तुम धूप  हो जगमग 
या कांगड़ी की तुम 
आंच हो...
पिघले हुए हो या,
मुझमें बर्फ की तरह जमा   
कांच हो... 

फिर इस सुबह मुझको 
तुम मिल गए हो, 
मेरी हथेली के  
बिखरे हुए रंगों पर, 
                         ओस की 
                         बूँद-सा
                         हौंसला
                         बनके । 

Beyond reasons...

I am a human of reason.

But, reasons are heavy, like words are.

And my words can never explain some things.

Their meanings are too bulky to travel to you that far.

So, I do not have a reason to explain why

These times at dusk, and at dawn

I once again like a child 

want to be heard, seen and known.

And I just need you to be there, 

that other side of the horizon in that far away sky

just to ask me once how I had been,

Just to hear from you, that enchanting 'one hi'.

I know its too much to ask for in words.

So, every-time, something in me decides to stay quiet.
You know what it is?
Its that 'I' in I.

picture source https://www.pinterest.com/pin/429390145701717466/

The brittle dream...

तुम्हारी बिसमी हुई खामोशी का 

हर एक लफ्ज़ जो सुन रहा है,

तुम्हारा कहीं है कोई जो 

तुम्हे आज फिर बुन रहा है… 

photograph source: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/443393525786130350/

To the disaster...

If You know 

how to destroy me,

again and again

in your ruthless rhyme.

Let me tell you,

I will build myself back anew

every single time.

photo source : https://www.pinterest.com/pin/296956169149508750/

Unworldly(2)

मै तेरी, जीत का 

कौनसा अश्क हूँ ?

हार- सा, जो तू यूँ 

आज रोने लगा है...

क्या मिला, ये तुझे 

उस जहां, में बता?

जो इस जहां, का कोई 

आज फिर लापता है। 

ये तेरा कौन था ?
वो तेरा कौन है ?

कौन अरमान है?

कौन अनजान है?

दे बता ऐ खुदा ,

ऐ खुदा.... 

picture source : https://www.pinterest.com/pin/152066924893726253/

TO Unworldly

The paradoxical cravings...

मेरी आँखों में क्या 

ये रुका हुआ?

एक ख्वाब सा है , कांच का 

जो पलता है। 

मेरे अंदर है क्या तू 

ये जमा हुआ?

जो बर्फ सा है ,

पर जलता है.. 

picture source:  https://www.pinterest.com/pin/184014334745769771/

Essays on Love(4)

The change we could not have imagined.
अन-चले रास्तों 

का कोई मोड़ हूँ; 

मुझको छू ले जिधर से तू 

मै कोई और हूँ। 

picture source https://www.pinterest.com/pin/341077371755356081/

ESSAYS ON LOVE:

Essays on love (1)

Essays on love (2)

Essays on love (3)- The truth, the self, the YOU.

I am the universe.

You cut the universe into pieces 
held them together
like dimensions
with threads of gravity.

You cut the universe into pieces,
and they accelerate apart irreversibly,
like time does on this planet I live in,
in this city.

You cut the universe into pieces.
Tell me,
Does it tear you apart?
Or does it pass through you unhindered 
like neutrinos?
Whichever way it may try to reach you
it just wishes to know you complete-
your being,
your form,
your expanse,
to whom or what you belong.

You cut the universe into pieces
And it filled itself with darkness and light,
matter and antimatter,
fullness and nothingness.
So that it could let you in 
and keep there, your being
in all your expanse,
in whatever form you exist
and wherever you belong.

I am the universe.
And I know, 
from the darkness out there
You see me.
And You see me, not like you know me.
You see me as you love me.
And here,
from my light
I find you.
And I find you not as I love you.
I find you as I feel you 
with all my senses
and beyond them.
picture source https://www.pinterest.com/pin/491525746808039100/

The monochrome speaks in its silence.

My eyes burn

in longing, in friction.

They burn, but with 

their light marred.

Like hundreds of colors 

on this canvas,

once discovered, sprayed, built...

had been charred.

And, You say

I am, 

such a beautiful 

monochrome.

photograph borrowed from http://rebloggy.com/post/drawing-black-and-white-painting-dark-portrait-monochrome-abstract-expressive-gr/96558445461

Lafz(2)

लफ्ज़ ज़िंदा हुआ 

था तुझे जानकर 

उसने पूछा नहीं था तुझसे , 

बैर या प्यार कर..  

उसने चाहा था, तू बस

सच न इनकार कर.. 

गुनगुनाना या चीखना,

चुप न होना मगर 

चुप में खो देगा तू 

खुद को, और खो गया तू अगर 

लफ्ज़ गिर जाएगा उस पल 

टूटकर हारकर 

स्याही नहीं है बस 
बिखरे जो कागज़ पर 

और लगे जग को, जानता है तू इसे... 

तू कौन है जो यूँ? 

पैमानों में अपने, 

तोलता है, छानता है इसे... 

लफ्ज़ पूछे नहीं, 
बैर या प्यार कर 
लफ्ज़ चाहे तू बस, 
सच न इनकार कर 

समझे जो तू इसको, 

तेरा रहे तुझमे बन सुलझन 

समझे न तो, 

तू अधूरा रहे..

कुछ है मगर इसका,

जो रह जाएगा तेरे मन में,तेरा बन 

तू कहे न कहे...

गुनगुनाना या चीखना,

चुप न होना मगर 

चुप में खो देगा तू 

खुद को, और खो गया तू अगर 

लफ्ज़ गिर जाएगा उस पल 

टूटकर हारकर।

picture source https://www.pinterest.com/pin/491525746809656554/

Orange skies - When happiness collides...

The lush forest grows, 
from moss to lichen,
to reach the sun.

The creepers, the epiphytes, the orchids-
all want its smile, 
the sunshine.

An emerald tree rises, high.
evading the boundaries of canopy
the forest had set for it.
It rises high and spreads its arms wide, 
to embrace the golden sun,
and its warmth,
to hug hard that burning sun
and ease it with its calm.

Their energies collide,
so does their happiness.
They don't.

The universe smiles back,
colouring the skies orange.
Photograph source: The crazy wonderful photographer philosopher friend.:) 

Essays on journey...

सच क्या है ,और क्या दर्पण-सा? 

है भी जो, है भी नहीं, भ्रम सा 

सागर सा नीला तो लगता है, 

पानी है या रेत सुलगता है?  

वो जो है भी नहीं 
है कहीं न कहीं 
बहता रहा है ...

इन धमनियों में,

जो जुनून-सा,

बनके मेरे सफर में...  

तू कौन है जो समंदर-सा? 

छाया है मुझपे, तू अम्बर-सा

सूरज-सा बातें तो करता है

हाँ डूबने से भी डरता है..

तू अकेला नहीं,

मुझमें तू कहीं,

रहता रहा है...

इन हौंसलों में

तू सुकून-सा,

बनके मेरे सफर में। 

picture source https://www.pinterest.com/pin/253327547766434060/

Your innocence and mine...

You say, Innocence-

meant being away from what 

we must not talk about,

what the society considers taboos

in and out.

You say innocence

meant being ignorant of evil,

untouched of the thoughts

of what you call sinful and devil.

And so you find,

Innocent-

my shyness, not your boldness

my thoughts, and not your words.

But
I see Innocence-

in the rawness of your thoughts and its instant expression,

like when your Mom touched you for the very first time

raw, unclothed, yet pristine that touch.

I see Innocence- 

in your words, their desperation and toil for peace,

like an infant crying in its genuine effort to cope with the turbulence

of its surroundings which disrupt its peace

And innocence 

is in your inquisitiveness, making efforts to know me more,

like a kid trying to reach out to another, 

in its search for a childhood friend.

Innocence is raw,

it is intrinsic.

It is not being ignorant of what you call evil or sinful,

or what must not be talked here.

It is when you let the evil or sinful touch you,

but not let it adhere.

So, are you innocent then?

Or were you searching in me, your lost innocence?

The self which is bigger than the universe...

सब बदल सा गया, 

कागज़ के एक फ़र्द से।  

तू बड़ा है मगर, 

हाँ, तेरे दर्द से... 
picture source https://www.pinterest.com/pin/282530576595082308/

When its dark at home, go get some light...

It was dark at home.
and I went for a stroll.
Met these lights on my way,
and their stories.
I talked to one, it talked to me,
that night...
Like a ghost.
Mind to mind
eye to eye
light to light...

As I returned back,
I saw, the ghost came back home with me.
And, it lives right here,
in my mind.
In me.

Photo courtesy: Saurabh tupkar

On that planet in that galaxy...

वहाँ दिन खिलेगा; 

वहाँ रात होगी,

वहाँ हर डगर पर 

मुलाकात होगी।

वहाँ चाँद अम्बर 

के नीचे समंदर 

में आधा-सा छुपकर, 

बातें करेगा। 

वो आधी -सी बातें... 

वहाँ लफ्ज़ बिखरेंगे 

कागज़ से नभ पर, 

और पंछियों - से,

घरोंदों को अपने,  

लौटेंगे रातों को।   

वो आधी- सी रातें... 

वहाँ मैं नहीं मैं

वहाँ तुम नहीं तुम,

वहाँ कुछ न ज़्यादा 

वहाँ कुछ नहीं कम। 

कि जब वक़्त धागों- सा

जुड़ कर रुकेगा 

वहाँ रेत पर...

तेरी धड़कनों में 

संगीत मेरा,

पुकारेगा तुझको
तेरा नाम लेकर...

और चुप चाप छुपकर 
तेरी धड़कनों में, 

संगीत मेरा...

वो आधा- सा वादा 

कर देगा पूरा। 

picture source https://www.pinterest.com/pin/288019338642945452/

The unfinished painting you grow into...

All I need is a piece of paper,

and some charcoal or sharpened graphite,

to paint you,

in words.

Monochrome, my painting.

Conscientious my efforts,

as I try to draw,

the edges of your unlived dreams,

which rustle as leaves,

as they talk to me

and stare innocently at the white sky...

And then it does not end.

For you never stop there.

You expand.

You grow

and you become the forest.

I stare at my fingers and the charcoal.

dumbfounded.

picture source https://www.pinterest.com/pin/491525746809337279/

Essays on love (3)

The truth, the self, the essence

THE 'YOU'

उसको छू दो जहाँ से, सच बदलता नहीं। 

तुझको देखो जिधर से, तू रहेगा वही। 

तू रोज़ सुबह को जगता जहाँ से है,

उससे बढ़के, 

रोज़ सोना मगर... 

तू साँझ में, शहरों की भीड़ की उलझन में, खुद को, 

यूँ न खोना मगर... 

रास्ता न मिले जो कहीं, इन मकानों के जंगलों में... 

और लगे कुछ है टूटा कहीं, इन दीवारों के हौंसलों में... 

चलना, 

गुम न होना मगर। 

There is this doctrine of syadvada in the jaina philosophy. There's this very famous example which explains it, that someone touched the foot of the elephant in dark, and called it a pole, touched its tail, and called it a rope, touched its trunk and called it a snake and so on.. The TRUTH however was 'the elephant' whom everyone touched, but no one saw, no one understood. 

Has this happened with you? And, if it has that does not and should not change the truth of your existence, no matter from wherever they touch it, no matter how they stack it, no matter how they try to change it. 

This world around, is doing that to you continuously. Like, the wind and the river and all these forces try to even out, to erode the mountain, but that does not change the mountain or its core. The mountain and the magma inside it preserves itself, its core, like truth, and the mountain rises. It rises despite every effort of being eroded and peeled out. It rises because of what it is- its core, its essence, its truth.

Preserve it- your self, your essence, the 'You'. And preserving it does not mean changelessness or stagnation. It only means evolution. 

May you grow, may you evolve each day, without regrets. So, when you go to sleep tonight, before you close your eyes, may you have risen an inch higher from the place you woke up this morning.

Don't let anyone in this world, at home or in this heartless crowd, in this crazy insane city, erode that 'You'. For it is precious. You are precious. 

And when, some evening, you can't find your way back to yourself, and you feel lost like a child in this concrete jungle of houses and homes. When you feel disowned, like a broken favourite toy, crushed by the colourful walls and their chains, just keep walking. But, don't lose the 'You', the essence. Keep walking with your head high and your heart believing.

Keep walking.

photograph source https://www.pinterest.com/pin/494973815272612540/

What brings me to war... and wars kill..

What disturbs peace?

There is a question.

"What lies between the illusion you see

and the real, you know?

Whom to trust?

The star or its light?
The light can guide you in dark.

But the star can be an illusion,

lost in space light years back.

Whom to believe?

The train or its whistle?

The whistle you hear loud,

the train might not just stop at your station,

even if it does, it might not be 'your' train."

What you see

may exist

may not exist.

What exists,

you may see,

you may not see.

The more important question then is-

What you want to see existing

and why?

Practical wisdom says, if you don't have the answers,

draw back

before the dam bursts

and cause destruction.

If you have the answers, go on...

The question is:

Do I have the answers?

That disturbs peace.

That brings me to war.

And wars kill.

picture source http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/File:Ancient_Monument_TCG_by_Cynthie_Sheppard.png