Thursday, May 21, 2009


और बीच में,
आधे चाँद की ख्वाइश;
टेढ़ी मेढ़ी सच्चाई;
विचारों के विवाद;
आधी रोटी की हकीकत।

और बीच में,
वही सड़क,
शाश्वत चलती हुई।

तुम थकते नही,
मैं पार करना नही चाहता।

जब थक जाऊंगा,
साँसें फ़ूल जाएँगी,
ज़ज्बा ख़त्म हो जाएगा,
उस पार आकर,
मैं भी,
तुम बन जाऊंगा...

Sunday, May 17, 2009


के सख्त टूटे जिस्म में,
उस कोने में,
गर्द की परतों के निचे,
एक चिराग़ दफ़न था;
उसके अरमानों की नब्ज,
ख़यालों के कश्मकश में दम तोड़ने लगी थी।

तुम्हारी फूँक ने शायद,
चिराग़ में रौशनी डाल दी है।

की जिदद है कि,
तुम्हारा एहसास
पुराने किस्सों की तरह,
ख्वाइशों के जिन्न को जगा सकता है।

Wednesday, May 13, 2009


जब कभी,
मेरे पैमाने में,
ख्वाइशों के कुछ बूंद छलक जाती हैं,
तुम्हारी यादों की खुशबू,
बहकी हुई हवाओं की तरह,
मेरे साँसों में बिखर जाती हैं,

मैं हर दायरे को भूल कर,
हर दरिये को लाँघ कर,
देर तक,
तुमसे सिफ़र से फलक तक की,
सारी बात करना चाहता हूँ;
हर नाजुक घड़ी को महफूज़ रख,
फिर से जीना चाहता हूँ;

और तुम्हारी ये शिकायत रहती है कि,
"उड़ान की आदत न डालो",
शाम ढलने पर, तकलीफ़ होती है...

Saturday, May 09, 2009


कल देर तक,
चुपचाप सिमट कर बैठा रहा,
मैं आँगन में अपने;

हलकी सी मदहोशी थी,
और मीठी सी एक बेचैनी,
चाहत और मुस्कराहट की लुक्काछिपी,
और लफ़्ज़ो की खिचातानी।

तेरे एहसास के ठंडे छीटें पड़े थे,
और रेशम के कुछ शब्द गिरे थें,
रूह पर मेरे।

सर्द धुंध का सफ़ेद परदा,
और उस पार तुम;
कभी अजनबी और कभी पुरानी पहचान वाली,
दिख रही थी...

Friday, May 01, 2009

Who is your Daddy

Election fever in India (currently more pandemic than the Swine flu) has once again shifted the pan of balance in favour of slothful Indian bourgeoisie. Interestingly, celebrities from every corner of Indian subcontinent are displaying their sporadic reverence to the masses. While Hema Malini was spotted struggling against flies and heat in some village to convey aaj basanti ke ijjat ka sawal hai, Sanjay Dutt was heard propagating Gandhigiri and Jadu ki Jhappi.

In a concurrent development, IPL (floundering to justify its origin, name, vision and motto) , the worshipped crickets were traded, ill treated and publicly insulted by their owners for their failures. The gems of nation are celebrated more as people’s personal entertainment paraphernalia and gambling cards.

People in the service industry fear to the emotion and irrelevant arguments of western clients. Nature of jobs and employment rate in the developing nations depend of the algebra of western economy. The western economy is driven by liquidity, credit availability and banking systems. Bankers, business tycoons, consultants and traders anticipate China, India and Middle East as their potential business spot. The formula for investment includes several factors of local demand. Big fishes from western economy offer all sort of lucrative offer to persuade the middle class of developing nations. FMCG giants pays millions to celebrities with flurry of stupid, irrational and unrealistic advertisement campaigns to coax the middle class of developing nations.

Ironically, the middle class is the most neglected, struggling, dissatisfied and unnoticed mob.

Most of the artists, who claim themselves to be mavericks and iconoclasts have to struggle for their existence. The primitive requirement for any such launch pads or platforms is to cater the public demand. The desire and quest to change the world redefines in changing themselves.

Ironically, most of the boasted achievements of such artists include the art at which he wanted to avoid or mock at.

Picasso says “I myself, since the advent of Cubism, have fed these fellows what they wanted and satisfied these critics with all the ridiculous ideas that have passed through my mind. The less they understood them, the more they admired me. Through amusing myself with all these absurd farces, I became celebrated, and very rapidly. For a painter, celebrity means sales and consequent affluence. Today, as you know, I am celebrated, I am rich. But when I am alone, I do not have the effrontery to consider myself an artist at all, not in the grand old meaning of the word: Giotto, Titian, Rembrandt, Goya were great painters. I am only a public clown - a mountebank. I have understood my time and have exploited the imbecility, the vanity, the greed of my contemporaries. It is a bitter confession, this confession of mine, more painful than it may seem. But at least and at last it does have the merit of being honest. (Pablo Picasso, 1952)”

The series of arguments related to these events boil down to a simple question “Who is your Daddy”


लोहा, लक्कड़, ताला, चक्कर घिच-पिच कर के बैठा है बाहर से चमचम करता है दिल अंदर से ugly है मौसम, पानी, सात समंदर गलियों गलियों घूमा है...