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I used to write what only I would have called poetry when I was young, however my diary is lost in winds of time. Among recent works, my first output तुम was when I was missing my mother. Emphasizing her importance in my life, I wrote:
तुम क्या हो ये शायद तुम्हें भी नही पता, माँ!
मेरी जीवन दायिनी ही नही, मेरा जीवन हो तुम
what you are to me, even you don’t know my mother
you haven’t just given me life, you are my life
In similar lines, I described the pain of mother whose all sons have left her for further studies or jobs in माँ as:
बाँध दिया जिसको विधाता, ने अपनी संतान के साथ
क्या व्यथा होगी उस माँ की, परिवार बिखर जाने के बाद?
destiny has bound whom with her progenies
what condition she must be in after her family is scattered?
Parting of my cousin sister after her wedding filled my eyes with tears and my mind with memories as reflected in विदाई:
पर जब बेला विरह की छाई
सीने में करूणाँई लाई
यूँ ही बिखर गये सब कारण
आँखे स्वतः ही डबडबा आई
when the moment of separation dawned
it brought anguish in heart
all reasons were lost just like that
and eyes got watery automatically
Reflecting dilemma of heart in speaking at birthday of a good friend, I wrote in कुछ कहना:
इतना आसां होता यार
कह ना देता कितनी बार?
had it been so easy my friend
wouldn’t have I said it so many times?
A question which has bothered me often is whether as relatively privileged member of society I have obligations for its betterment or can I just be myself. असमंजस describes it as:
क्या उनकी बुद्धिमानी ही उनका श्राप है
बिन चाहे ही
समाज के उद्धार के
आशावाहक बन जाने का?
या फिर उन्हे भी हक है
हर मनुष्य की तरह
अपनी मंजिल खुद चुनने का
अपनी राह खुद बनाने का?
is their intelligence their curse
that without their wishes
for the betterment of society
they must bear the burden of expectations?
or do they have right too
like every other man
to chose their own destination
and to chose their own path?
Memories of father’s role in my life were reflected in पापा:
भाव उफ़नते थे मन में तो
लेकिन थी भाषा नही आती
अढ़ाई दशक की स्मृतियाँ
कागज़ में कैसे समा पाती
emotions would rise in my heart yet
language was difficult to come by
for how two and an half decades of memories
could be penned down on paper
In search for ideas, word usages, phrases and to understand poetic style of other Hindi poets, I read lot of poems. I found that many have written at least one poem about Moon, and I wondered why in एक बात बता ओ चाँद:
एक बात बता ओ चाँद अरे
क्यों ऐसा होता इतनी बार
क्यों युगों युगों से कवियों के
तू दिल का छेड़े तार
tell me one thing o moon
why does it happen so often
why since eons
you tug at heartstrings of poets
As maturity dawns, one’s outlook to life changes. As one grows up, love becomes lovable, as penned in प्यार से प्यार:
कल तक जो ना भाता था, वो आज दिल के पार हो गया
सच कहता हूँ दोस्तों, मुझे प्यार से प्यार हो गया
what i didn’t like till yesterday, that penetrates my heart today
i am saying truth my friends, i am in love with love
I’ve lived away from home from last ten years. And Sunday afternoons have always made me miss my home most. Why? I explain in रविवार की दोपहर:
रविवार की दोपहर में
नींद से उठने की बाद
सन्नाटे के साए में
मेरे घर की याद
हर बार उठती है
on Sunday afternoons
after waking up from siesta
in blanket of silence
memory of my home
always haunts me
Whether New Year is a moment of celebration or an mere instant in ongoing journey of life, pondered in आओ नव वर्ष मनाऐं wishing well for coming year:
नव वर्ष मात्र मील का पत्थर
जीवन बहती धारा हर पल
इस विराम के पल में ना भूलें, हम नव संकल्प ऊठाऐं
आओ मिल नव वर्ष मनाऐं
new year is but a milestone
for life is flowing stream every moment
in moment of pause let’s not forget to make promises for future
let’s come and celebrate new year
These snippets of poems are presented in order I wrote these poems. If you read so far and liked what you read, then you can read these poems in entirety on this page. Comments are disabled on that page but you are always welcome to comment here.