Tuesday, March 29, 2011
My house fronted
A wild meadow
With groves of huddled green
Raising long arms to
A limitless horizon of
White washed blue
On which lazed
Pillows of crystal clouds
The sun shine so bright
Dazzling the eyes
Embalmed in the night by
The daub of a rotund moon
Piled with frozen ice amidst
A sprinkle of glassy stars
Melting into a smiling rainbow
Soon after a happy shower
Maddeningly gleeful in
The barmy breeze blowing in
Fragrances of faraway lands
Caressing rows of flowers blooming
Like the well scrubbed cheeks of
The baby boy just across the street
Serenely ambling past the tranquil abodes
Without a bump, a hole or a
Once upon a time
Today as I shade my eyes
With my wrinkled hands
And squint up
The sky seems lost
The clouds smudged
The sun shine prickly
The moon hazy
The stars dull
The rainbow stolen
The showers sporadic
The greenery faded
The breeze harsh
The flowers withered
The cheeks sunken
The infants stooped
With adult worries
And the meadow browbeaten
By tall, black, sooty chimneys
Standing arrogantly by a sluggish, slovenly drain
Murky in hue slimy in texture
Dark in contours wallowing in stench
Once though was a giggly light feet joyful stream
I blame it on a myopic sight
But they say the world now
Has a jaundiced view
Is that true?
Sunday, March 27, 2011
B-I-L ne aao dekha na taao, now, now, please don't ask me to translate that in English because my colonial legacy is not so stretchable after all. So coming back to B-I-L - he mobiled "A" to give his fatherly piece of mind , oooh. thankfully, at last, well that's not me saying but it's my sister who said that while recounting the whole tempest in the tea cup to me later in the day with the appropriate background noises and score. The next thing we knew was a drowsy "A" knocking at the door.
The celebrity couple were ready to dish out a pair of their pieces of minds together to their off spring when they were quietened by the most important and buzurg like figure of the house, Mr. Snow Boot, who barked, howled and hollered at "A" from the car park to the door with such ferociousness that the family for once could not help but think he'd most probably be tbe long lost judwa who went his own way in the local mela last year and not the humble gentlemanly Snow that we all knew of.
Later in the day, in a calmer mood, "A" confided in me that the experience was exactly like listening to Jab We Met's Dadaji (Darji) LIVE. Remember the ever horizontal Dara Singh whose opening dialogue was " hamein ek nazar mein hi pata chal jaata hai ke ladka ladkii ke beech mein kya chal rahaa hai." Wellll! It was when "A" was just about to leave the room that lightening struck my blinking intellect (and not internet, my dear friends) and pop came out the query, "Yeh ladka to theek hai par yeh ladkii kaun hai?" My nephew who by that time had realized that he had blabbered quite a lot just let a fleeting smile yell on his tightly pressed lips like Tom (of Tom & Jerry fame) when trapped under the window shutter and exited leaving a thick fog of suspense behind.
I was going to pursue the matter with him like a nagging, inquisitive aunt that I was but suddenly one of my rarest brainwaves shook me guts up,"Why not ask the omniscient Snow who knew ek nazar mein...........and all that blah blah" But one cocked left eyebrow from me and Snow just growled a hmmmmmmmmmm and walked quiet sedately out of the room. Just like the censor board with thickly knitted brows issuing an 'A' to some cunningly -cooked-up-controversy-ial movie. Snow might as well have brandished the sickly green certificate at me. Tujhe bhi dekh lenge Snow!!!!Acting elderly unh huh?????
Pain, come let me immortalize you for posterity
By penning the tale about how you destroyed me
Both give a feeling of embracing warmth and coziness
But Jarring and scorching when at the maximum
Tranquil and enjoyable if minimal
Scorching summer noon
Clings motionless to the bleached grass head
Saturday, March 26, 2011
There’s a river tripping down the rugged, uneven terrains of a mountain in a fit of joyful descent coursing its way through pebbled path, narrow in perspective, almost narcissistic and very, very light on feet, disbursing its joyous spree in innumerable rivulets, turning a bend it draws the reign and slows down its pace to a trot, galloping on velvety, lush grounds, it is confident at the same time sedate, serene, introspective even morose at times and at others spirited, delighted, playful perhaps with the air of a vagabond but not Bohemian, of course not, not at all, till it crashes in million aplomb, it is naughty but not mean till suddenly it does discard the zest, the zeal, the fervour, the buoyancy, the vibrancy of yore and takes a more sluggish path of slow paced brood, ambles down the gentle slopes, in an insatiable quest for the unknown and at one point it obliterates the past, blots out the vagaries of aimless reminiscences, freezes the present and oblivious to the fears of the future, traipses past its tributaries to go mingle and get lost into the depths of the bottomless blue fringed with infinite, tumultuous, torrid, impassioned waves pacified into the sage like, silent, ocean stunned into eternal peace. Just like life. Isn’t it?
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
We fought like cats and dogs over a trivial issue. But trivial was such a trivia that it was forthwith discarded from our dictionary. Blinding rage wore a magnifying glass shielding clarity of vision, dilating a molehill into a rugged mountain whose peaks were invincible. Lucidity was so pathetically ordinary that we brushed it aside with impatient hands. We had excavated layers and layers of such extra ordinary interpretations to the myriad cornucopia of the very mundane, the very common place.
As a result, we scratched and scarred each other with thorny barbs, sarcastic snide, provocative jibes, sanguinary sneers, razor sharp tongues, and all such means which were more brutal than any other deadly weapon or devastating missile challenging human sovereignty. The apple of discord seemed so important at that point of heated arguments, when we spit mud and gore at each other, that our octaves reached the super sonic till we decided to bang down the phone into each other’s ears and resolved never to speak again.
As the temperature cooled down pity bordering on contempt for the opponent overtook guilt of rubbing salt on each other’s wound. An inflated ego refused to acknowledge faults in behaviour or flaws in perspective. As time passed the moment of insanity receded back to history gradually letting rationality brighten up the day.
On hindsight, winning the argument seemed more important than the actual contention which could have had a simpler solution, a more tranquil rejoinder and also a more amicable finale. But when the mind is fuzzed by the overbearing concern of proving one self right, intelligent handling of an accidentally manhandled situation takes the back seat.
Yes, all word wars are accidents and as the term goes avoidable or with a little care and ease amenable to circumvention. But the ego is quite a fool and rushes in where angels fear to tread resulting in aftermaths which may at times prove beyond repair.
I wish the mind was gifted with more alacrity so that we could clutch in the brake and shift gears escaping the obstructive visual well in time before headlong bumping into it. I wish we could brace ourselves before giving in to torrents of tongue lashing. I wish detached, impartial logic and cool, contained rationalism had the better of us and not snore in one remote corner of our cerebrum or salivate over the discord greedily when these were most needed.
I wish…………..but every such wish is always on hindsight……..isn’t it?
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Friday, March 18, 2011
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Friday, March 11, 2011
मुड़ के देखूं तो ज़िन्दगी बुलाती है
आसमानों से आगे बादलों के पार
पर रास्ता मुड़ जाता है
वीरानों में , बंजर वादियों में कहीं
और कदम लडखडाते हैं
सिसकियाँ आवाजों में गूंज के कहे पुकार
पथिक राह भूले तो नहीं हो सुनसान गलियों में ?
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Wednesday, March 09, 2011
मेरे खिडकियों से झांकता एक सुर्ख आसमान और चिड़ियों की चहचहाहट गूंजती कानों में । पेड़ पौधे अंगडाई ले जाग उठें हैं और कलियाँ पंखुडियां खोले इशारे करतीं हैं । हवाओं ने आवाज़ देकर बुलाया है, "आओ भोर के साथ दिन की शुरुआत करें"।
Tuesday, March 08, 2011
में रात पी गई चाँद के प्यालों में। आँखें लबरेज़ है ख्वाबों के सितारों से । एक कांटा फिर भी चुभता है शरीर सी देह के गलियों में। एक झोंका सा दबे पाओं आता है जूही की खुशबू लपेटे । अब नींद कहे सो जाओ। अलविदा ।