बहुत अरसा तो नहीं गुजरा,
न ही इतिहास का कोई ग्रन्थ ख़त्म हुआ है,
मुझे अब भी याद है...
अक्सर,
भीड़ में उंगली पकड़कर,
तुम बचाते थे मुझे,
अंश अपना गर्व से कहते मुझे;
और,छिपा कर गुब्बर्रों में,
बूढे कंधो पर घुमाते थे मुझे।
बूढी झिलमिल आँखों का,
मैं कभी स्वाभिमान था,
मीठे ख्यालों में बुने कहानियो का,
कभी कृष्ण तो ...
कभी राम था।
आज अरसो बाद भी,
तुम्हारी उँगलियों का स्नेह,
और कहानियो का स्पर्श,
मुझमे शेष है।
तुम खो नहीं सकते,
भीड़ और तन्हाई में,
उंगली मेरी,
तुमको खोज लेंगी...
Monday, January 19, 2009
Saturday, January 10, 2009
बुझने दो मेरी ख्वाईशें
चिता के आहट से पहले
राख कैसे छा गया ?
वक्त का दीमक ये कब
परिंदे का पर खा गया ?
जाल को जुगनू ने ही चुना था,
अब छिप गया क्यूँ खाल में ?
बुझने दो मेरी ख्वाईशें
रखा है क्या इन सवालों में...
भीड़ की हर शाखों पर,
फन्दों सी लटकी है क्यूँ टाई ?
सुलझे फीते वाले जूते,
कब भेंट दे गएँ तन्हाई ?
पंख वाले बुलबुलों ये कैसे ?
दब गएँ दीवारों में ?
बुझने दो मेरी ख्वाईशें
रखा है क्या इन सवालों में...
तनहा रोकर बारिशों में,
हौले हौले जल रहा,
तारों का सपना कभी था,
आज मैं ही ढल रहा...
राख कैसे छा गया ?
वक्त का दीमक ये कब
परिंदे का पर खा गया ?
जाल को जुगनू ने ही चुना था,
अब छिप गया क्यूँ खाल में ?
बुझने दो मेरी ख्वाईशें
रखा है क्या इन सवालों में...
भीड़ की हर शाखों पर,
फन्दों सी लटकी है क्यूँ टाई ?
सुलझे फीते वाले जूते,
कब भेंट दे गएँ तन्हाई ?
पंख वाले बुलबुलों ये कैसे ?
दब गएँ दीवारों में ?
बुझने दो मेरी ख्वाईशें
रखा है क्या इन सवालों में...
तनहा रोकर बारिशों में,
हौले हौले जल रहा,
तारों का सपना कभी था,
आज मैं ही ढल रहा...
Friday, January 09, 2009
Guilt Pleasure
Mercury was challenging the lowest limit of the year. I was shivering under the newly constructed flyover with some old memories and a gold flake in my hand. The flyover was my most significant and ambitious construction project till date. Completion of this flyover was had much to do this gold flake. Probably, this was my last fag.
Shadows and desires share at least one very common fact. They spread their wing of dominance in relation to their distance from light and reality. I started smoking, when I was in my second year of under graduation. Gold flake was least expensive and so the first choice of middle class bachelors. My existence without a gold flake was not imaginable those days. I shared my luck ,bad luck, job interviews, sad moments and happiness with that wrap. I associated smoking to my days of struggle and my days of graduating life.
After my graduation, I entered corporate battleground with waves of changes shaping my life style. Everything from my hair style to my shoe laces underwent a phenomenal change. I had separate wallets to carry my plastic money, currency notes and visiting cards. I attired in latest market brands and had my own car. Even, the gold flake found Marlboro as a new substitute.
Smoking and miracles always excited me. However, the idea to quit smoking was more fascinating and having some miraculous exit would have made it a masterstroke. I thought to jot down this script with some gaudy dialogues. However, I decided not to sweep off my old foot prints for showcasing my new pair of shoes and thus decided to tie off old poignant strings with a last puff of gold flake only.
The gold flake thought, like many of my other thoughts was very similar to few strange new relationships, which enter your routine accidentally, then follow you, haunt you, delight you and finally drive your steps. Although absurd, but I often design some reasoning to justify myself from these thoughts.
Memories and thoughts unfold their dimensions, when you are alone. I was sitting alone on a broken bench under the flyover with that probable last puff gold flake. Although, synchronization of events could not have witnessed better moment than that, but my mind was responding only to words of my college physics lecturer. His lessons denied existence of two objects at a same place at same time. For me, thoughts are also objects and today many of them were dwelling inside my mind. I could even sense all the needles of my wrist at the same place which was adding flavours to the mood of romanticism.
Tickers of my wrist watch and my trembling shoes were disturbing the grave silence of that ambience. I was waiting to meet the managing director of my construction company. He promised me to meet after his late-night show to discuss the latest most promising project of the company. Floods of thoughts were reverberating in my brain. I was looking at the ruins of that last gold flake. Suddenly, a car stopped in front of me. It was the managing director. When someone brings a ray of hope to you, your eyes start imagining halo around him. I could sense a similar halo around my managing director also.
He opened the door of car ,came near the bench and offered a cigarette to me. Every big discussion should start with spark and smoke. I hesitated for a moment, looked at the crushed butt of the probable last gold flake, smiled and accepted the new cigarette.
Shadows and desires share at least one very common fact. They spread their wing of dominance in relation to their distance from light and reality. I started smoking, when I was in my second year of under graduation. Gold flake was least expensive and so the first choice of middle class bachelors. My existence without a gold flake was not imaginable those days. I shared my luck ,bad luck, job interviews, sad moments and happiness with that wrap. I associated smoking to my days of struggle and my days of graduating life.
After my graduation, I entered corporate battleground with waves of changes shaping my life style. Everything from my hair style to my shoe laces underwent a phenomenal change. I had separate wallets to carry my plastic money, currency notes and visiting cards. I attired in latest market brands and had my own car. Even, the gold flake found Marlboro as a new substitute.
Smoking and miracles always excited me. However, the idea to quit smoking was more fascinating and having some miraculous exit would have made it a masterstroke. I thought to jot down this script with some gaudy dialogues. However, I decided not to sweep off my old foot prints for showcasing my new pair of shoes and thus decided to tie off old poignant strings with a last puff of gold flake only.
The gold flake thought, like many of my other thoughts was very similar to few strange new relationships, which enter your routine accidentally, then follow you, haunt you, delight you and finally drive your steps. Although absurd, but I often design some reasoning to justify myself from these thoughts.
Memories and thoughts unfold their dimensions, when you are alone. I was sitting alone on a broken bench under the flyover with that probable last puff gold flake. Although, synchronization of events could not have witnessed better moment than that, but my mind was responding only to words of my college physics lecturer. His lessons denied existence of two objects at a same place at same time. For me, thoughts are also objects and today many of them were dwelling inside my mind. I could even sense all the needles of my wrist at the same place which was adding flavours to the mood of romanticism.
Tickers of my wrist watch and my trembling shoes were disturbing the grave silence of that ambience. I was waiting to meet the managing director of my construction company. He promised me to meet after his late-night show to discuss the latest most promising project of the company. Floods of thoughts were reverberating in my brain. I was looking at the ruins of that last gold flake. Suddenly, a car stopped in front of me. It was the managing director. When someone brings a ray of hope to you, your eyes start imagining halo around him. I could sense a similar halo around my managing director also.
He opened the door of car ,came near the bench and offered a cigarette to me. Every big discussion should start with spark and smoke. I hesitated for a moment, looked at the crushed butt of the probable last gold flake, smiled and accepted the new cigarette.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
हम चुनेंगे कठिन रस्ते, हम लड़ेंगे
हम चुनेंगे कठिन रस्ते जो भरे हो कंकड़ों और पत्थरों से चिलचिलाती धूप जिनपर नोचेगी देह को नींव में जिसके नुकीले काँटे बिछे हो हम लड़ेंगे युद्...
-
कल ऑफिस से लौटा तो अगस्त्य ने दरवाज़े पर आकर अपनी अस्पष्ट भाषा में चिल्लाते हुए स्वागत किया| उत्तर में मैंने दोगुनी आवाज़ में बेतुके वाक्य चीख़...
-
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, ...
-
It was 9th of may 2008. I was expecting the clouds to rain heavily and the winds to shove me hard. My anticipations and desires to look othe...