Tuesday, August 31, 2010


कतल कुछ मैं भी करता हूँ,
कतल आप भी कर लीजे
दरिया खून से अब बस सूर्ख़ हो जाए

लकीरें मैं तनिक खींचू, 
दीवारें आप खड़ी कर लीजे 
अर्ज़ ख़ुद में सिमट कर बस दफ़्न हो जाए   

भूखे पेट की अर्ज़ी,
कहाँ कोई आज सुनता है...
कि बोटियाँ नोच कर अपनी
भूख कुछ कम ही हो जाए 

तमाशा आप का लिक्खा, 
गर्द और रंज लाया है  
दुआओं में परिंदों ने बस राख़ पाया है.

शर्म कुछ मैं भी करता हूँ,
शर्म कुछ आप कर लीजे
कुछ अश्कों को पीकर शायद,
अपनी नियत बदल जाए 

Saturday, August 21, 2010


कुछ शौक को दफ़न करके, नया शौक पाल लेते हैं. 
कुछ ज़ख्म को छिपाकर, नया ज़ख्म डाल लेते हैं.
इस शहर का सुनसान कँही अपनी गुफ़्तगू सुन न लें,
चलो संदूक से नयी शक्ल, नयी पोशाक निकाल लेते हैं. 

हर शख्स का चेहरा मिलता है हुबहू,
हर ख्वाइशों की चादर का रकबा भी एक है,    रकबा - Area
कुछ सरफिरों ने चंद आसमानी तस्वीरें खींच ली,
इस शहर में आइना नहीं बिकता, 
बाज़ार में खीचें गए तस्वीरें बिकते हैं. 

आँखों में बेबसी की झलक, 
माथे पर दरारें क्यूँ हैं,
इस नस्ल में आख़िर 
सभी थके-हारे से क्यूँ हैं,  
ये रंगीन शहर कभी बुझता ही नहीं है. 
हर लाश के दरमयां, ये दीवारें क्यूँ हैं. 

Wednesday, August 11, 2010


He was standing at the middle of a crossroad; probably everyone stood there atleast once or probably no one did ever. He was never sure of this part of the universe, probably no one was or probably every one was. It was a crossroad of thoughts, beliefs, murmurs, whispers, silence, screams or perhaps just an empty space.

While a civilization was celebrating life under the hypnotic music of moonlight at one side of the road, a society of thinkers and philosophers was chanting requiems for themselves and for their society below a gloomy rain at the other side of the road. Rest of the roads were either so much covered with snow and fog that nothing was visible or were too bright to ramble and focus upon. A chime from some far church started to amplify behind a junkyard in the woods. The voices of profanity, wisdom, rejoice, sadness, hunger and perhaps everything harmonized with the sound of that chime.


Dey got up of his dream.

Dey was one of the most respected professors of his college. Born to a criminal lawyer and a house wife, Dey was blessed with most of the facilities possible in the city. It so happened once that a dejected old man, who lost a case to his father's client came crying at his home one midnight. His repetitive half an hour yelling turned out to be a first good enough reason for Dey to ponder about sufferings. Psychology may have defined that impulsive behavior with unknown assumptions and predictions, but for Dey, to understand the origins of whims and caprices had no meaning. There was melancholy in the wind outside his home and hidden desire to celebrate sadness inside his mind. The old man's pleading - "No one likes me and no one cares about me" got engrossed for ever in his memories. 

Dey was then only eight years old, but he was very much convinced, overwhelmed and disgusted for this fate to human. Although, he did not choose to by solve the mysteries of life like Buddha, but since that day, his subconscious brain probably realized its scope to dominate Dey. For the next few days, whenever he slept, he could only dream devastations and echoes of that old man utterance. For the other few days he saw himself running away from his home to some unknown destinations for some unknown reasons. He never disclosed his childhood dreams to his father, as he feared and hated him.

Dreams frightened him, dreams thrilled him and dreams encouraged him to weave his own universe. At the age of ten, he started taking interest in dreams of other people. Once when he was assigned "family" as a topic for his school drawing competition, he asked his mother to share colours and intensity of her dreams, and then he tried to spray colours of voices and sounds of his servant's daughter. He submitted it to his teacher with a layer of text written over it . It was from his father's diary...

"मेरी कल्पनाओं की उड़ान इक दिन आस्मां को चूमेगी;
मेहंदी के छीटें बिखेरती दुल्हन बनकर झूमेगी..." 

Dey, reputed as a shy and introvert student of his class, topped his school in secondary school examinations. He always had more inclinations towards mathematics. He believed that maths will help him to align all the patches of dreams, that he captured as texts, music pieces, drawings etc since his childhood days and span a world out of it. He joined a reputed college of mathematics and spent lots of his time in library to code and decode his patches.

After years of his researches and lots of human interactions, he was able to find some broken links to map dreams. He was very much obsessed with his findings and often struggled against himself for the acceptance of  dominance of reality, his mind and his dreams. He chose the dominance of dreams over all other factors.

Society is like fast food. The more you try to make it enticing, the more it rots. Dey was very much confident to build a platonic society inside his dreams. He started working on a space capsule, where people could spend atleast few hours of their lives in a platonic dream world. He spent sleepless nights and days gathering informations and patching them for his research. Yesterday, he got very tired and slept for few hours with a alarm in his watch.

He was standing at the middle of a crossroad. People met, societies amalgamated and civilizations merged. The fog faded away and left violence, greed, lust, hatred, bloodsheds, stampede and their justifications.

Bang! The alarm clock ranged. Dey woke up. Tears dropped off Dey's eyes.


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...