Saturday, April 3, 2010

कुछ शेष...... अवशेष

तू नहीं है सामने, तेरी तस्वीर है ,
यादों की बुनी, एक पुरानी ज़ंजीर है।,
चमकती हैं तेरी झलकियाँ कभी ,
नज़रों के सामने,
फेर के मुँह उल्टा,चलता हूँ मैं
शान से ,तान के ,
जान के आँखों का छलावा है ,
भ्रम का दिखावा है ।

दूर ठहर के पछताता हूँ,
जरा-जरा घबराता हूँ ।
वापस मुड़ता हूँ पीछे ,
यादों और हकीकत में,
धुंध दिखता है चारो तरफ
सिवाय तेरे चेहरे के,
सवाल उठते हैं कई,
अतीत के पन्नो से।

पर तेरे चेहरे का भाव अलग सा है,
विचारहीन कुछ सुखा सा है।
खामोश सिसकियों के साथ ,
जैसे तेरा समझौता सा है ।
तू नहीं है वो शायद,
जिसे अक्सर ढूँढता हूँ,
बीते हुए कल में,
जिसे मैं टटोलता हूँ।

यादों के गहरे पानी के नीचे,
वक़्त खींचता है तेज़ी से पीछे,
और सपनो के उड़ान में फिर देर कहाँ लगती है,
हो कहीं भी, तू गैर कहाँ लगती है?
यादों की तस्वीरों को पलट जरा,
क्या उनमे मेरा कोई झरोखा है?
आज़ाद पंछी है तू आज भी ,
या मेरी नज़र का फिर से कोई धोखा है ?



आज़ाद पंछी है तू आज भी ,
या मेरी नज़र का फिर से कोई धोखा है ?

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Raindrops


The dusk seemed to have arrived earlier through class windows. Prof warned me while I was peeking through window, to concentrate on innovative systems of management. This was 3rd warning to me; other twos I’d received for long yawns which he thinks are contagious. Well, after patient hearing of 1:15 hrs, we were released. I walked out of the main building and took my way to hostel with friends. Then moved for some time in open sky and started to amaze myself.

The beautiful depiction by appropriate color combination due to sunlight, dusk and clouds was like an artist’s diligent effort on great blue canvas with watercolors. When I observed further, I thought I really needed to appreciate the great artist. Usually, I try to see beauty in abstract things, being complex they need a deep insight and this opens me up to look from other facets of right brain and broadens my definition of beauty. May be you see the same abstract thing differently at times and may be they may deliver totally opposite messages for you, sometimes.

Beauty? For me, it’s really hard to explain. For me it’s something unusual you’ve never seen before, something small that symbolizes something and something that arouses emotions within. Beauty for me is in sun, in physics, in children, in hardship, in blinking light, in sharing and the list goes on.

Witnessing twilight getting converted into dark dusk was like looking a brilliant artist just changing color combination on canvas with slow movement of clouds. Rain arrived a little later and despite a little darkness, the combined feeling aroused within by cool wind, dusk and rain was unspeakable. It was bliss, joy and endless.

Small droplets of rain kept falling on my head getting vanished as they touched me. For me, their evanescence really meant more than their existence, it was the beauty of their lives to get vanished and let other droplets supersede them. Each drop told an autobiography, story of the journey from their creation to my head. I was able to listen to some of them. They all were waiting for this auspicious time to come, for they wanted to get converted to their reality, losing form, giving a meaning to their life. A feeling of completion I sensed in them. Message they delivered was more beautiful than them. "The message of passing away and opening a way for others to enter, to depict the life's single best invention before world many times in a moment.”

Aman