JOURNEY OF A RAIN DROP

It arose from the sea,
As vapour,
Still not fully formed as a drop.
There was unbound excitement
At being born, created
A separate entity
Proud to be by itself
Rather than mixed in the salt of the sea.
As it took shape,
Amongst millions others,
It was conscious,
As do all of us
That it would be carried
By forces beyond its control
To far places and people
To lose its identity again when it’d fall.

“Where would fate take me?”
It mused as winds carried it landwards,
“Will I fall on a tree and hang
On to the leaves for dear life?”
“Or will I fall in a pot hole on the road
To be cursed by drivers and walkers alike?”
“Or worse, on a heap of rubbish,
Carrying stench in the air?”

“If I am lucky,
I may fall on the Ganesha idol
In a procession
But then, I shall be quickly
Back into where I was born and arose:
The vastness of the sea.
My friends and I may also fall in the milkman’s pot
And he’d rejoice for increased sale.”

“I have no choice
But, I don’t want to be part of a gutter.
God, I am small and feeble,
Be kind to me,
Let me be valued,
By myself and not
As part of the gang
Together called ‘rain’.”

The cloud that carried him,
Deposited him
On the cheek of a small child,
Naked and hungry,
On a street in Mumbai;
Where it mingled with a single tear
That shot from her eye
On the death of her mother in a bomb attack.

“God”, it said,
Let a hundred drops fall
To wash the sin of
What man has done to man.
But, they should never
Forget that single tear from her eye.
I don’t want to be born again
And again, and again, and again.”

HAPPY DIWALI

She, a girl of five,
In tattered clothes,
And shattered hopes,
Tugged at her mother’s torn sari nervously.
Diwali; it was their big day..
For begging along Marine Drive.
Rich people who came here
To burst crackers, huge bombs and rockets
That burst and filled the sky
With myriad colours
Were always in good mood
To let the beggars have
A miniscule part of the money
That went up in flames and sounds.
Each bomb, rocket, cracker, flower-pot
Cost several times Montek’s Thirty Two Rupees,
That separated them from becoming rich.
Pic Courtesy: reuters
They had already collected
Seventy three rupees and fifty paise
And three empty whisky bottles
And two un-burst bombs
And two empty boxes of sweets
Empty for the rich but..
With remnants of sweets still sticking on edges
Enough for the girl and mother
To have a Happy Diwali feast.
Tonight was the night when
They could collect enough
For the next few days
Even after paying half to the beat-cop on duty.
In the din of crackers
And daze of sparklers
The little child and mother
Couldn’t help thanking
Lord Ram for having returned to Ayodhaya
Several centuries ago
And given them reason
To rejoice;
And sleep, after days
With stomachs nearly full
“Shubh Deepawali, maa” the child whispered.
“Shubh Deepawali, Lakshmi”, the mother responded,
“Let’s await Christmas, to have more….fun ”.

NO PIPE DREAMS

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No, corruption doesn’t affect me,
I am happy and satisfied,
To live in my world that I own,
Where I’ve smiled and cried.

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‘I don’t have to worry about netas,
Nor for the babus I care,
They can’t fleece me anymore,
As I lie in my home half bare.

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The election promises are fairy tales,
We don’t believe in what they say and do,
My grandfather used to live here,
My grandchildren will live here too.

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Pic Courtesy: Totally Cool Pix

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I don’t dream of the year 2050,
When we shall be world’s biggest power,
Or the year when they will finally think of us,
No, Sir, we here live by the hour.

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All people are born equal,
So does our religion tell us,
But, we can’t be the ones they talk about,
So why simply should we make big fuss?

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Only, next time you sit in your home,
And curse the gods for your bad lot,
Just think of us in our homes here,
And be thankful for what you’ve got

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When you crib about insipid food,
And not having anything good on telly,
Just give a thought to how we live,
And sleep mostly on empty belly.

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LOST

Where should my friend
I search for thee?
You have been lost in me.
Should I search in my heart?
But, lo, my heart is not in me.
You stole it and took it away,
And left me…..lost.
Where shall I find thee now?
Where shall I find me now?”

ANNE’ NA RAHO (DON’T REMAIN BLIND) (POEM IN PUNJABI)

ਹਜ਼ਾਰਾਂਅਨ੍ਨੇਯਾਂਤੋਬਾਦਪੈਦਾਹੋਯਾਅੰਨਾਹਜਾਰੇ,
ਲੋਕਾਂਨੇਹਜ਼ਾਰਹਜ਼ਾਰਦੇਨੋਟਉਸਤੇਵਾਰੇ,
ਅਤੇਕਹਿਯਾ, “ਜੰਗਕਰੋਅੰਨਾਅਸੀਂਤੁਆਡੇਨਾਲਹਾਂ.”
ਮੈਂਕੇਹਨਲਗਾ, “ਤੁਸੀਂਅੰਨੇਹੋਸਾਰੇ.”
ਜਿਦਾਂਦੇਤੁਸੀਂਹੋ, ਓਦਾਂਦੀਹੈਤੁਆਡੀਸਰਕਾਰ,
ਵੋਟਿੰਗਲਈਤੁਸੀਂਹਰਦਮਰਹੰਦੇਹੋਤੈਯ੍ਯਾਰ,
ਪਰਐਸੇਬਦਮਾਸ਼ਾਂਔਰਮੂਰਖਾਂਨੂ,
ਕ੍ਯੂਂਵੋਟਦਿੰਦੇਹੋਬਾਰਬਾਰ?”
ਲੋਕਪਾਲਬਿਲਨਾਲਕੋਈਫ਼ਰਕਨਹੀਂਪੈਨ੍ਹਾ,
ਇਹਬੋਝਥੁਆਨੁਅਤੇਮੈਨੂਹੈਸੇਹਨਾ,
ਜੇਇਦਾਂਹੀਅਸੀਂਅੰਨੇਬਣੇਰਹੇ,
ਤਾਂਇਕਅੰਨਾਅੰਨਾਹਜ਼ਾਰੇਨੇਕੀਹੈਕਰਲੈਣਾ?”
ਲੋਕਪਾਲਨੂਛਡਕੇਲੋਕਸ਼ਕਤੀਕਰੋ use
ਸਾਰੇਲੀਡਰਾਂਦੇਬੁਲਬਕਰੋ fuse
 ਰਿਸ਼ਵਤ ਮੰਗਣ ਵਾਲੇ ਨੋ ਖੋਲ ਕੇ ਮਾਰੋ ਛਿੱਤਰ,
ਤਾਕੇ corruption ਦਾਰਹਜਾਏਨਾਕੋਈ excuse.”
ਜਿਸਮੁਲਕਦੇਲੋਗਹੋਜਾਣਚੰਗੇ,
ਉਥੇਭਰਿਸ਼ਟ leader ਆਪੇਹੀਹੋਣਗੇਨੰਗੇ,
ਸੋਅਗਲੀਬਾਰਉਸਨੁਕਦੀਦਾਨਾਨਾਪਾਯੋ,
ਜੇਹੜਾਕਰਮਚਾਰੀ underhand ਪੈਸਾਮੰਗੇ.
Hazaran anneyaan to baad paida hoya Anna Hazare,
Lokan ne hazaar hazaar de note uste waare,
Ate keheya, “Jang karo Anna, asin tere naal haan.”
Main kehan laga, “Tussin anne ho saare.”
“Jidan de tussi ho, odan di hai thuadi sarkar,
Voting layi tussin hardam rehnde ho taiyyar,
Per aise badmashan nu ate moorkhan nu,
Kyun vote dinde ho tussi baar baar?”
“Lokpal Bill naal koi ferk nahin paihna,
Eh bojh thuanu ate mainu hai saihna.
Je iddan hi asin anne bane rahe,
Te ik Anna Hazare ne ki hai ker laina?”
“Lokpal nu chhad ke Lok shakti karo use,
Saare leadran de bulb karo fuse,
Rishwat mangan waale no khol ke maro chhittar,
Ta ke corruption da reh na jaaye excuse.”
“Jis mulk de log ho jaan change’,
Uthe bhrisht leader aape hi honge nange.
So agli baar us nu kadi daana na payo,
Jehda karamchari underhand paise mange.”

JAI HIND

Reproduction of a poem I wrote in May 1999 when Pakistan perpetrated the most heinous infiltration into Kargil, the Indian side of Line of Control (LOC):

जाना है तुमको आज इक फ़र्ज़ निभाने की खातिर,
इस देश की मिटटी का क़र्ज़ चुकाने की खातिर,
उठो ए जवानो सर पे बाँध लो कफ़न,
शहीदों में अपना नाम दर्ज़  कराने की खातिर I

दुश्मन ने इक बार  है  फिर तुम्हे ललकारा,
दोस्ती के नाम पे है फिर तमाचा मारा,
क्या भूल गया वो इक मुसलमान शायर का कहना:
सारे जहाँ से अच्छा है हिन्दोस्तान हमारा I

विजय हो तुम्हारी ये देश की है कामना,
करना वीरता से तुम दुश्मनों का सामना,
उठो ए जवानो सर पे बांध लो कफ़न,
सारा जहाँ करेगा तुम्हारी वीरता की सराहना I

इस देश के लिए मिट जायेंगे मर जायेंगे हम,
इक इंच भी अपनी ज़मीन का होने न देंगे कम,
सुनो नवाज़, सुनो मुशर्रफ, सुनो ए सरताज,
सीने यहाँ फौलाद के और बाज़ुयों में है दम I

अब कभी इस तरफ न डालो नज़रें बुरी,
इक तरफ लाहौर यात्रा, और बगल में हो छुरी,
इस बार छोड़ देंगे अपने पे काबू करके,
अगली बार LOC पार न करने की, शायद न हो मजबूरी I

जय हिन्द हमारा नारा है, हिन्द हमारी शान है,
खून का हर तिप्का हिन्द के लिए कुर्बान है,
तुमने सोये शेर को जगा डाला है मूर्ख,
दुश्मन, अब तू चन्द दिनों का मेहमान है I

Jaana hai tumko aaj ik farz nibhane ki khatir,
Is desh ki mitti ka karz chukaane ki khatir,
Utho ai jawaano sar pe bandh lo kafan,
Shahidon mein apna naam darz karane ki khatir.

Dushman ne ik baar, phir tumhen lalkara,
Dosti ke naam pe hai phir tamacha maara,
Kya bhool gaya vo ik musalmaan kavi ka kehna:
“Saare jahan se achha hindostan hamaara”?

Vijay ho tumhaari ye desh ki hai kaamna,
Karna veerta se tum dushmano ka saamna,
Dekho bach ke paaye na ab yeh ghuspathiye,
Saara jahan karega tumhari veerta ki sarahana.

Is desh ke liye mit jaayenge mar jayenge hum,
Ik inch bhi apni zameen ka hone na denge kum,
Suno Nawaz, suno Musharraf, suno ai Sartaz,
Seene yahan faulad ke aur baazuyon mein hai dum.

Ab kabhi is taraf na daalo nazrein buri,
Ik taraf Lahore Yaatra, aur bagal mein ho chhuri,
Is baar chhod denge apne pe kaabu karke,
Agli baar LOC paar na karne ki, shayad na ho majboori.

Jai Hind hamaara naara hai, Hind hamaari shaan hai,
Khoon ka her tipka Hind ke liye qurbaan hai,
Tumne soye sher ko jaga daala hai moorkh,
Dushman, ab tu chand dino ka mehmaan hai.

 

IF ONLY

Sometimes I feel life is blasé
An alluring mirage that I chase.
Sounds of fun and laughter are
Like gunshots
Piercing through my heart.

Sometimes I feel I lost you long ago
You were near and yet so far;
Knowing that I needed you
But imagining that I’d live without you.
“Let me, then, throw another dart.”

The last time, our last time, when we talked,
I found you far, very far.
I wanted this, I wanted that,
I wanted nothing;
And you had nothing to give me, on your part.

I could hear many voices,
I could see many sneering faces,
And you sitting with them,
Laughing and chatting,
Your cunning perfected to an art.

If only….

If only, I could sit with you
And talk to you
And look into your eyes
And find me there.
As the only one in your heart.

If only…

If only, I could die.
And mingle with the breeze
And touch you anywhere, anytime;
And caress you within and without
Without seeing you apart.

If Only

If only….

They’d destroy the world,
Leaving just the two of us alive.
If only, God Himself would command
You and I
To be a new world’s start.

WHY READ WHEN YOU CAN ‘LIKE’?

God, do me a great favour
Offering to you I will hike,
Let people read the stuff I put up,
And not just press the ‘Like’.

Also, God, this is straight from heart,
With no offences meant,
Why don’t you goad them on sometimes,
To press the button called ‘Comment’?

There are others who don’t even ‘Like’ God,
So, those who do are better;
But, whilst I like their spirit God,
I also want to see their letter.

If we are not careful, God,
We’ll soon reach a time,
When people will press buttons at random,
With no real reason or rhyme.

So, let everyone who likes this post,
Tell us his own valued point;
So that rather than being one-sided,
This effort will be joint.

Who knows, while doing so,
We may actually discover the gold;
That is hidden somewhere in the heart,
But is patiently waiting to be told?

Lets have one day of the week,
When we shall actually share our thought,
And simply not press the button ‘Like’,
And hope to convey all we’ve got.

LET THE WORLD END


Lord, it has been some time
Since you came on the Earth
And stayed with your people.
It was a whiff of fresh air
Hope and Peace
Faith and miracle.
You called yourself Jesus at one time,

Mohammad at other,
Guru Nanak, and Buddha yet another.
Your people rejoiced
And we still worship you
In all your various forms
But, now rages the storm of destruction,
Of killings, stealing and corruption
Of disease, poverty and deceit
And wars, bombs, tanks and fleets.
In the midst of it is your Man,
Not knowing what is your next plan.

It frightens me? Nay it can’t,

I wish dearly that
The storm will succeed

And destroy the world

And a new world will be made
Where you will come again
And live in peace
With all your happy people.

COUNTERPOISE

For something to be born, something has to die,
For someone to be happy, someone has to cry.
Is the Nature thus in a perfect balance,
Giving each emotion an equal chance?
The flood is balanced by the drought,
Sadness within has happiness without.
Are we then parts of a whole,
Fragments of a common soul?
In pensive mood, should we search for our other half,
Who would, through our tears, make us laugh?

KAVITA KA CHAKKER

This post is devoted to a friend of mine who remarked to me that writing poems is as easy as twiddling thumbs and that he could give me a run for money. Here goes:

मनकोटिया जी अपने आप को कहते थे कवी,
एक दिन इसी बात पे झड़प बैठा रवि,
कहने लगा, “शायरी क्या है, कविता क्या है कुछ तो जानते हो,
के तुक्के को ही कविता का रूप मानते हो?”

“यारों पे व्यंग करने के और भी रास्ते हैं,
कई और साधन हास परिहास के वास्ते हैं,
इस लिए कविता पर ही क्यूँ अत्याचार करते हो,
अपना और दोस्तों का समय बर्बाद करते हो”

“कविता लिखने के लिए पेन पेपर सब कुछ है आपके पास,
लेकिन दिमाग में आपके भरी हुई है घास,
ऐसे दिमाग की प्रेरणा को गधे ही भा सकते हैं,
पड़ने के बाद कम से कम पेपर तो खा सकते हैं.”

“लिखना ही है तो मान लो मुझे अपना गुरु,
और मेरे निर्देशन में कविता लिखना करो शुरू,
खीर खाने के बहाने हमें घर पे बुलाया करो,
भाभी के हाथ के माल्पुरे खिलाया करो”

“पिक्चर और डिस्को हमें रोज़ ले जाया करो,
थक जाएँ तो हमारे पैर दबाया करो,
दो तीन महीने में आप कविता सीख जायेंगे,
और रवि को सब कवियों का राजा मान जायेंगे.”

Mankotia ji apne aap ko kehte the kavi,
Ek din issi baat pe jhadap baitha Ravi;
Kehne laga, “Shayari kya hai, kavita kya hai kuchh to jaante ho,
Ke tukke ko hi kavita ka roop maante ho?” 

“Yaaron pe vayang karne ke aur bhi raaste hain,
Kyi aur saadhan haas parihaas ke vaaste hain.
Is liye kavita per hi kyun atyachaar karte ho,
Apna aur doston ka samay barbaad karte ho?” 

“Kavita likhne ke liye pen paper sab kuchh hai aapke paas,
Lekin dimaag mein aapke bhari hui hai ghaas.
Aise dimaag ki prerna ko gadhe hi bha sakte hain,
Padne ke baad kam se kam kaagaz to kha sakte hain.” 

“Likhna hi hai to aaj se maan lo mujhe apna guru,
Aur mere nirdeshan mein kavita likhna karo shuru;
Kheer khaane ke bahaane hamein ghar pe bulwaya karo,
Bhabhi ke haath ke maalpure khilwaya karo.” 

“Picture aur disco hamein roz le jaaya karo,
Thak jaayen to hamare pair dabaya karo.
Do teen mahino mein aap kavita seekh jayago,
Aur Ravi ko sab kaviyon kaa raja maan jayoge.”

CORRUPTION KI BAAT MAT KARO BHAI

Corruption की बात मत करो भाई
मैं तो ठहरा सिर्फ तुम्हारा नाइ
आपके बाल काट के चला जायूँगा
और फिर अगले महीने ही आयूंगा
यह नेता पांच साल में एक बार आता है
आपकी जेब काट के चला जाता है
रिश्वत लेने के लिए नए तरीके सोचता है
अपने साथ साथ अपने वोट भी बेचता है
मैं तो उस्तरे से करता हूँ तुम्हारी shave
ये बगैर उस्तरे के बनता है तुम्हें slave
मैं आपके बड़े हुए नाखून हूँ काटता
ये आपकी रगों से खून है चाटता
मैं बाल काटने के बाद आइना हूँ तुम्हें दिखता
ये भरी रौशनी में तारे तुम्हें गिनाता
मैं तुमसे पैसे लेके तुम्हें हूँ कुर्सी पे बिठाता
ये तुम्हारे पैसे से खुद कुर्सी पे चढ़ जाता
आप कहते हो मेरी कैंची तेज़ चलती है
इतनी तो नहीं जितनी इसकी जुबां उलगती है
आलिशान बंगले में इसकी लम्बी कार है
और कहता है के , “जनता ही की सरकार  है”
मैं करता हूँ तेल लगा के तुम्हारी मालिश
ये करता है देश की दौलत को polish
मैं तुम्हारे सफ़ेद बाल करता हूँ काले
इसने करोरों रुपये swiss bank में लगा डाले
मेरे पास जो कुछ है मेरी अपनी कमाई है
इसने देश की दौलत अपने नाम करवाई है
सो मुझ से corruption की बात मत करो भाई
मैं तो ठहरा सिर्फ तुम्हारा नाइ
Corruption ki baat kyun karte ho bhai?
Main to thehra sirf tumhaara naai.
Aaapke baal kaat ke chala jayunga
Aur phir agle mahine hi aayunga.
Yeh neta paanch saal mein ek baar aata hai,
Aapki jeb kaat ke chala jaata hai.
Rishwat lene ke liye naye tarike sochta hai,
Apne saath saath apne vote bhi bechta hai.
Main to ustre se karta hun tumahari shave,
Yeh bagair ustre se banata hai tumhein slave.
Main aapke bade hue nakhoon hun kaat-ta,
Yeh aapki ragon se khoon hai chat-ta.
Main baal kaatne ke baad aaina hun tumhein dikhata,
Yehi bhari roshni mein taare tumhein ginaata,
Main tumse paise lekar tumhein hun kursi pe bithata,
Yeh tumhare paise se khud kursi pe chad jaata.
Aap kehte ho meri kainchi tez chalti hai,
Itni to nahin jitni isski zubaan ugalti hai.
Aalishaan bangle mein isski lambi car hai,
Aur kehta yeh hai ke “janta ki hi sarkar hai”.
Main karta hun tel lagake tumhari maalish,
Yeh karta hai desh ki daulat ko polish;
Main tumhaare safed baal karta hun kaale;
Issne croron rupaye swiss bank mein laga daale.
Mere paas jo kuchh hai, meri apni kamaai hai,
Issne desh ki daulat apne naam karwaai hai.
So, mujhse corruption ki baat mat karo bhai,
Main to thehra sirf tumhaara naai.

 

CRICKET HAMARI SHAAN HAI

Cricket hamara mazhab hai,
Cricket hamari jaan hai:
Aur khelon mein hum hon na awwal,
Per Cricket hamari shaan hai.

PM bhi match dekhne aate hein,
Kiyunki woh bhi to insaan hai.
Wah, Pratibha ji bhi aa pahunchi,
Unki kya aan baan hai.

Hamare mulk mein koi hi aisa hoga,
Jo Cricket se anjaan hai.
Bahuton ke liye to dekha jaaye,
Cricket hi saara jahaan hai.

Ek taraf to Sachin God hain,
Doosri ore Zaheer Khan hai;
Pinch hitting mein apne pas,
Koi aur nahin, Yousuf Pathan hai.

Jo kuchh desh mein, wohi Cricket team mein,
Hindu, Sikh aur musalmaan hai;
Sabse labon pe ek hi naara hai,
Saare jahan se achha Hindostan hai.

Kissi se poochho aap itne khush kyun ho,
Jawab: “Wankhede ke saamne meri dukaan hai”
Aamir Khan se poochho yahan kaise aaye?
Kaha: “Meri hi picture ka naam Lagaan hai”.

Woh dekho ik amriki bhi aaya match dekhne,
Itna shor sun ke woh kaafi hairaan hai.
Sirf Raja kahin nazar nahin aata,
2G ke scam mein woh behadd preshaan hai.

Final ke liye sab tayyari kar lo doston,
Thodi der mein aane wala ik toofan hai;
Kabhi bhoolna nahin khelte ya dekhte,
Sab deshon se ‘Hamara Bharat mahaan hai.

Kyunke, Cricket hamari shaan hai,
Cricket hamari pehchaan hai.
P.S. Winning the ODI World Cup is going to sort out all our problems of Poverty, Corruption, Cross-border Terrorism; poor Public Health, Education, Roads, Railways, other Infrastructure.

TRAVEL LIGHT IF YOU MUST

The man waited at the platform
With a suitcase full of ideas
And a small bag for the journey
Waiting for the train of humanity to arrive.
In the night before, he was barely able to close
The suitcase, so full was it
He had to squeeze and force down
And even sit over it to close
There were simply too many things
For a small sized suitcase.
He had planted himself
Where he thought the ‘General’
Compartment would arrive.
But there were simply too many people
There generally are in ‘unreserved’ compartments.
He had to jostle his way through
Pushing, fretting, fuming
Finding room for himself
And for his suitcase full of ideas;
It was almost a losing battle.
He would have given up
But the dynamics of ‘General’ compartments
Are well suited for going with the flow
As anyone would know
Who’s been in Mumbai ‘locals’.
So eventually he found room for himself
And a little overhead space for his suitcase
But he just couldn’t open it
There was simply not enough space
The train started; the journey began.
It gathered speed
The suitcase, not on firm footing
Fell, but the man scarcely missed it
He was busy sharing goodies from his bag
That he carried for the journey
Others shared too and he found
It wasn’t a bad journey after all.
At the destination, he got down with his bag
That was all that belonged to him
That was all that was needed for the journey.

AMARANTH

Like a gentle rain
On a placid pond in wilderness
The memory of our tryst forms
Never dying ripples
Each one capturing
Those brief moments of togetherness.

Did you at that time know
That the twinkle in your eyes
The softness of your lips
Your looks, your scent, your laughter
Would remain with me forever?

Indelible…unfading.

And I would search for these
In the pearl drops on lotus leaves,
In yellow flowers of joy
By the gurgling brooks;
In the haunting song of cuckoo
Pervading the silent secrets of woods.

Did you know that I would
Eternalize each whisper,
Each colour, each touch, each look
Each song, and each ditty
And treasure them
As a Life Time’s Achievement Award
For my undying love for you?

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