Chances

Take your chances, O' lonely soul,
Lest the passions are abating,
Seek the comforts of present not the past, for
The time rushes while these keep on debating.

Worried of the chances that you will lose?
But equal are that of winning, if not more,
What use is such caution in what to choose?
When you remain stuck, stagnant & quite unsure!

Life is short and keeps on fleeting,
While we keep worrying if it will work or won't,
What is the point of doubting & bleating?
When it's our effort that it'll do or don't!

आज़ाद

कहते हैं कि भारतवर्ष में आज़ादी की आजकल नई घटा है छायी,
जब अपने ही वीर सपूतों की निंदा करने की कुछ लोगों ने है स्वतंत्रता पायी।
अपने ही हाथों जिनसे मातृभूमि का गला घोंटा जाता है,
उन लोगों को आजकल देश में आज़ाद कहा जाता है।

रहते हैं जो उच्च दबाव में, तूफानों में, वीरानों में, शून्य ताप से भी कम वाले उजियाले-अंधियारों में,
रहते हैं जो कई मास दूर माता के प्रेम पिता के आलिंगन से, किलकारियां लेते अपने बच्चों के भी बचपन से,
रहते हैं वे ताकि इस देश का शीश न झुकने पाए,
ताकि कोई भटका हुआ मानव किसी रोज़ अपने साथ शांति को ही न उड़ा जाये।

अरे तुम क्या जानो आज़ादी क्या होती है!

आज़ादी का अर्थ भी जानो,
यह लो मैं बताता हूं,
भूलो इसको मत तुम अब,
तुमको प्रतिबिम्ब दिखलाता हूँ।

जानो यह संग्राम ज़रा,
समझो, अपने शब्दों को पहचानो।
आज़ादी नहीं विदेशों की,
यह भारत के अंतरतम से आई थी,
जाओ पढ़ो इतिहास ज़रा,
पढ़ो, समझ कर यह जानो,
मिली यह जब वीर मतवालों ने,
गुलामी के खिलाफ भारी धूम मचाई थी।

तब नहीं कहते थे वे उन हालात पर,
"भारत तेरे टुकड़े होंगे" चीखकर हर बात पर।
जान हथेली पर लिए खेलते थे मौत से,
चढ़ जाते थे सूली देशभक्त हंसते हुए एक जोश से।
क्या उन क्रांतिकारियों के बलिदानों को तुम भूल गए?
क्या भगत , चंद्रशेखर, बोस और सुखदेव पीछे कहीं छूट गए?

आज़ादी एकतरफा नहीं, नहीं सिर्फ यह रईसों की,
आज़ादी गरीबों की, आज़ादी वीर सपूतों की,
आज़ादी विचार बड़ा, आज़ादी आने वाली पुश्तों की,
आज़ादी माताओं की, आज़ादी हमारी बहनों की,
आज़ादी भेदभाव रहित, आज़ादी स्वाभिमानी पुरुषों की,
आज़ादी जन-जन की , पराये और अपनों की।

मगर आज़ादी यह नहीं कि लोभ में देश को अपशब्द कहते जाओ,
आज़ादी यह नहीं कि समाज में राष्ट्र-विरुद्ध दुर्व्यवहार फैलाओ।
या फिर सुरक्षा को दुश्मनों के हाथ बेचते जाओ।

इसलिए तिहार जेल के कैदी आज़ाद नहीं कहलाते हैं,
क्योंकि आज़ादी के साथ मूल कर्तव्य भी आते हैं।

और आतंकियों का समर्थन करने वालों, तुम भी आज़ाद नहीं कहलाओगे।

The Poet

Is a poet not a poet unless he is known?
Or unless his name, upon the carcass of a tree,
Blinding, in golden letters beautifully shone?
Is he not someone, to lead with might,
and raise a din of soundless voice,
to address every whim in the world's plight?
It is said, 'The pen is mightier than the sword'
Or sometimes it may be so true,
For a humble poet writes and stays,
to his intentions, sincere and in lieu.

Fearless

For those who are sad, in despair, giving up or just disappointed and discouraged. This will help and give you strength, you might be able to relate at least a few lines to your own life.

When crossroads came and I had to,
I always chose the hardest of them all,
they bent me in those twisted ways,
which made me stand apart and tall.

I am glad they did not kill,
and I knew my mettle through the tests,
which came and went as swift,
as the sun and moon's unrest.

I often shivered of the fear,
as crippling as it can be,
to face those demons that stood before,
but struck them nonetheless therefore.

There are far more wiser and braver still,
many people that I know,
gone through even harder times,
but vigilant, in the summers, rain or snow.

But I must not be sad or even shy,
to admit a person's worth.
For I am not less, and can't deny,
I have been bloodied too, and tasted dirt.

So even when the flames engulf,
the consequence of my sweat and blood,
I will not crumble or fall apart to lose,
but get up and rebuild, again by worn out tools.

Even if I am hung to dry,
by fools upon those steady gallows,
I will breathe again, and be heard,
by my thundering roars and bellow.

Embrace

I wrote this some time back. Though the situation is very different now, the feeling was worth writing about.

 

A warm summer's sweet delight,
closer, looking in her eyes,
sitting huddled in the sand,
beside the tides, earth's heaving sighs.

Passions high, entangled limbs,
kisses balmier than a rose's lips.
Sunset, dusk and moonlit nights,
all merry, all rejoice.

Heavenly abode, where else it is?
where lies mankind's most craving smiles?
Where but in love's most embracing arms!
Where but in those stolen glance!

Mine?

Oh! How exquisite are the flowers!
How enthralling their smell!
that wafts with the breeze.
How poised is the moon!
gleaming above, full with beauty,
hooking the heart with such an ease.

In the moonlight there stood she,
a hand outstretched, lazily, towards me,
a wounded battle-scarred young man which shook
of terrible aches of heart and body and mind,
the damsel, mending me, but slowly it took.

I was drawn towards her in that pleasant rain,
getting up, mending, slowly, inspite the pain.
I looked up towards the life I want,
embraced in the soulful dance, love entrant,
Delved so deep, no can or can't.

She took withered hands of mine in hers,
and kissed each in turn with her lips divine,
waking me up, shaking me up,
swelling with joy, welling tears of love enshrined,
her soothing whispers, kisses untimed.

I was halfway up to her embrace,
halfway through to complete this race,
a race with myself, to leave behind,
insecurities, torments, timidity and memories unkind,
And then, I belonged, from my heart and mind.

She smiled and kissed me leaning halfway down,
murmuring those words & I was a king without a crown,
I prayed and prayed and yearned the end,
the doubts in my heart and my body to mend,
I was happy, jovial - in bliss, without pretend.

I was about to reach to my fullest height,
towards that dream of divine love at first sight,
Yet her hold slackened upon my hand,
and her gaze turned cold as Hades's land.
I was drifting again to the world of pain,
with no hand to pull me out of this shame.

I woke up sweaty and with a start,
in hope to hold onto whom I gave my heart,
But where was she? Where vanished that appeal?
Where was that world, that girl and those feelings ethereal?
Was it all inside my mind? Or was it real, truthfully, love defined?
I hope to know, I hope to find,
through all the tribulations and promises kind,
were they false, a figment of mind or was she mine!