kuch paak roohein

कुछ पाक रूहें
बस कुछ पल के लिए ही धरती पर आती हैं
खुशियाँ बाँटती है और ता-उम्र का गम दे जाती है,
दिल तड़प्ता है उनसे मिलने को
वो बीतें लम्हे फिर से जीने को
वो चेहरा आँखों में भरने को
दिल तड़प्ता है उनसे एक बार गले लगने को
वो संग बीता हुआ आख़िरी लम्हा याद आता है
कुछ और वक़्त मिल जाता, हर वक़्त खुद से यही गिला होता है
जिसकी कभी तुतलाती ज़बान को सुना था,
जिसके कभी लड़खड़ते कदमो को देखा था,
उन कदमो को दूर तलक दौड़ते भी देखा था
वो तुतलाती ज़ुबान से सुरीले सुरो को सुना था,
उसके सिर पेर बँधा सेहरा ना देख सकी,
हर ख्वाब,हर ख्वाइश चूर चूर हो गयी,
फिर से टूटे ख्वाब,जुदाई का गम आँखों की किरकिरी बन गयी.
क्युकि वो रूह अब खामोश हो गयी है,
वो कदम अब थम गये है
तभी कुछ लोग उसे अपने कंधो पेर ले गये हैं
उसने अपना घर कहीं और बसा लिया है
मेरे घर के एक कोने में अब बस उसकी यादें रहती हैं


Dedicated to my cousin who lost his life in a ROAD accident.


Tere naam

गर लम्हा लम्हा ज़िंदगी बनती है ,
तो मेरी ज़िंदगी तेरे नाम

गर किसी के लिए धड़कने धड़कती हैं,
तो मेरी धड़कने तेरे नाम.

गर यादों के टुकड़ो से कोई इमारत बनती है,
तो मेरा वो ताजमहल तेरे नाम

गर किसी के एहसास से साँसें चलती हैं,
तो मेरी वो साँसें तेरे नाम.

गर खुद को तेरे नाम करने से तेरा कुछ हिस्सा हासिल है,
तो मेरा नाम तेरे नाम

गर तेरा इंतिज़ार ही मेरा नसीब है,
तो मेरा हर वक़्त तेरे नाम

बस इतनी सी गुज़ारिश है ,
मेरी साँस रुकने से पहले
धड़कने थमने से पहले
अपना एक पल ही सही,
अपना एक लम्हा ही सही,
तू भी कर देना मेरे नाम


pankho ki udaan

aasman mein udte udte hi bhool hi gaye,
ki udne ke liye pankh kisne diye the.
wo udna nahi chahte
ye kehte suna aksar,
per kyun nahi chahte
ye na kabhi socha baithkar,
bas har din nayi udan bharte gaye,
aur wo pairo ki bediya se lagne lage.
phir ek dina unse naata hi toot gaya,
wo wahan chale gaye jahan se koi wapis aa na saka.
zindagi phir yuhi chalti gayi,
jo bhi yaadein thi sab kahin peeche reh gayi,
phi ek din thak kar kahin thama mein,
kisi ped ki chaon mein baith gaya mein.
pankh utare kandho se kuch pal ke liye,
phir kuch aisa dekha ki mere aansoon na thame.
un pankho mere aai baba ke pankh bhi the,
unhone khud ke pankh kat kar mujhe de diye the.
shayad isiliye wo meri tarah udaan na bhar sake,
shayad isiliye sari zindagi zameen per hi reh gaye.




The little angel

I was playing in the clouds with my friends , when suddenly a cloud burst and I fall down. I put in all my efforts to go back to “fairy land” but could not and reached EARTH

I reached somewhere completely different from my place. I was walking around and trying to understand where I have reached, how can I go back, then suddenly I heard a cry, a small baby was crying. I reached the place following the sound. She was a small baby girl lying in the cradle. A woman was sleeping near her. She was looking very tired and as if she has cried all the night and just now fallen asleep. The room was very small of the size of single bed. There was no window from where she could breathe fresh air. I asked  the little angel why she is crying, Can I help ?. She didnt speak anything.Could be because she was too small to speak or her story was not to be told but written. I asked my magic stick to get a pen and notebook for the little angel. The magic pen had the capability to write down whatever is in one’s heart. I gave the little angel pen and the notebook.

She opened the blank notebook and wrote her story. She has written :-

“It is getting darker in the sky
God has sent the stars to show us the light.

But he has sent nobody to see my mother’s plight,
What she has to go through every night.

She was left with no option,
when whom she loved her sold her in this brothel.

Every night she hides her pain
under the layers of the makeup which from night till morning she retains.

Everynight somebody kills her soul,
she sells her body even though she abhors.

I have often seen her crying in the night alone,
Then getting up to start a new day in the new dawn.

She often remembers her childhood,
She used to be happy playing in the woods.

Her siblings were her life,
she was her parent’s pride.

Now no one is left in her life,
no brother , no sister to abide

She just loves me and I am her daughter ,
Though she hates my father.

But she is determined to give me a life,
For which she has dreamed and now strives.
She has just not accepted what life has given her,
but preparing herself everyday to grab the best offer.

She is the real woman,
Trying to live on her own.

I need her courage, her purity ,her innocense.
I respect her a lot for her courage immense.
I lover my mother,
society may or may not accept her.”

The little angel was asleep and I was in tears after reading this. I wish,she grows up with her mother in a place where there is love and only love,No Pain,where woman is treated with respect. Nobody  rapes her dignity,where woman is not just a body but a soul, who has her ideas of life. Where she can live freely, trust everybody.

Feeling helpless, I kept the notebook with me and started searching ways to go back to my place.I was also thinking Can I do anything for her. I guess not because every woman has to stand for herself. They need to be strong and fight against injustice , rather than accepting the situation in which they are forced to stay.They may die fighting aginst the injustice, but then the life they are living is equally terrible. I respect little angel’s mother who is fighting to live and trying to get a life for her daughter.

Now the sun was in sky and I found my way back to my place. I hope all the women on earth may also get their path.

‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’


Teri yaadein

यूँ तो वक़्त के हर लम्हे के साथ,
यादों की बढ़ती जाती है तादाद.
कुछ खो जाती है कुछ भूल जाती हैं
कुछ रुला जाती है ,कुछ मुस्कुराहट दे के चली जाती है

पर कुछ पुरानी यादें अभी भी ताज़ा हैं
पहले पहर में शाख से गिरे हरसिंगार के फूल की तरह
उन यादों में कुछ खनखनाहट है
शायद तेरी हँसी की उसमें मिलावट है
उन यादों के रंग आज भी चटक लाल और गुलाबी है
ना जाने वो लम्हे सच थे या ख्वाब थे,या कुछ कहीं खराबी है
पर हर उस याद में मैं मुस्कुरा रही हूँ क्यूंकी तू साथ है
तेरे संग हँसी,खुशी,सपने और चन्द मुलाकात हैं
मैने उन यादों को मखमल के टुकड़े में संभाल कर रखा है
तेरी खुश्बू उड़ ना जाए इसीलिए किताबो में दबा कर रखा है

काश कुछ लम्हे मैं फिर से जी पाती,
कुछ यादों की कुछ और यादें बना पाती,
तेरे ख्वाबो को सपने से हक़ीकत में बदल पाती,
अपनी ज़िंदगी की उमर उन लम्हो से कुछ ज़्यादा कर पाती.

तुझसे फिर से एक बार मिलना चाहती हूँ
मिल कर तेरा शुक्रिया अदा करना चाहती हूँ
ज़िंदगी जीने के लिए नही
पर ज़िंदगी काटने के लिए ही सही
तूने कुछ यादें तो दे दी है
जो अभी भी ताज़ा हैं
तेरी पहली नज़र की तरह,तेरे पहले एहसास की तरह
पहले पहर में शाख से गिरे हरसिंगार के फूल की तरह


Raho mein aksar…

Few lines describing beautiful nature I met during one of my  journey…

राहो से मंज़िल तक का सफ़र….

दूर तलक फैली मखमल सी चादर,
और उस पर आराम करती हुयी सुनहरी धूप
किनारो पर लगे दरख़्त जैसे पंखा झेल रहे हो
और इठलाती बलखाती सी नदी मानो वीणा के तार छेड़ रही हो
एक पीले रंग की तितली हरी घास पेर खेलती दिखी,सूखे पत्तो की सरसराहट भी सुनी
वो कहीं तो कोयल छिपी बैठी है, तो कहीं किसी झुर्मुट में मकड़ी जाला बुन रही है.
कहीं हल्का हरा तो कहीं पीला हरा, एक ही रंग के कितने रंग
हरे रंगो का इंद्रधनुष ज़मीन पर फैला हुआ है

पेड़ो के झुर्मुट से झाँकती धूप,
आड़ा तिरछा रास्ता बनती मौसमी नदियाँ
लहलहाते खेतो के बीच खड़ा एक पुतला
पक्षियो को दूर भगाता.
कुछ पथरो से कुछ टूटी डालियों से बने पुल.
पहाड़ो से फूटते झरने,
ज़मीन पर रहने वाली नदी से मिलने को तत्पर
हल्की सी सांझ हो गयी है,
वो किसी आँगन में जलता हुआ दिया सा
जैसे जुगनू दूर करता अंधियारा
यूँ ही चलते चलते अब मैं समुद्र से आ मिली हूँ,
अंधेरा छा गया है
पर लहरो ने अंधेरे में भी सफेद रोशनी की चादर बिछा दी है
वो उठती गिरती मेरे पैरो को भिगा जाती है
कभी कभी कुछ सीपियाँ मुझे तोहफे में दे जाती है.

ये सफ़र कभी ख्तम ना हो,
ये रास्ते यूही मिले
तभी सफ़र भी आसान होगा
और मंज़िल भी हासिल हो जाएगी




Some people just do not belong to earth

Well being a citizin of this blogging world, I often get oppotunities to particpate in many blogging campaigns or contets and the best part I like about such events is they give you food for thoughts and then ideas to write about. To open the windows to thw world, to enter such arenas where in you will not enter otherwise. This post is also about campaign ”
http://madeofgreat.tatamotors.com/” called #madeofgreat. This campaign is  about brand association of  one of the Indian Global brand Tata Motors with Lionel Messi. Both brands are well known for the excellence in their fields and simplicity and so is the camaign build upon the attributes their authenticity, reliability, simplicity, as well as its commitment to innovation.

So we were required to write about somebody who is undeniably #madeofgreat.

So here’s  a small belated eulogy.

Bhaiya, I use to call  him. he was my mother friend’s son. I first met him when I went to him for a career guidance. He ws senior to me and  was studying engineering in a very reputed college. His first impression is still imprinted on my heart. He was such a great soul, who was always ready to help. He was made of love. He loved everybody whom he knew. And everybody use to fell in love with him. The best qualities that he had were :-
A love full soul
An obedient son
A cute,living brother

Anger,frustration such things were not in his dictionary. I don’t know what driven him but I am sure it would be love and hope that derived him. I have never seen him getting frustrated by people behaviour. He was able to handle all kind of people so amicably just because he was in love with god’s every creation. He was such a sweetheart that nobody could escape his charm. After engineering he went to join Jamshedpur for job. Whenever he used to come on vacation he made sure to ask my mother about her health and my progress.
He later went to US for higher studies and this was last thing I heard about him alive. He met with some accident in US. I didn’t have heart to see his body which travelled from US to India in coffin.

My mother told me that he was smiling.

I just know him as one person on earth whom I will remember him all my life. He was authentic, reliable , love, with a soul, with a beautiful heart.

It’s sad that God calls good people to his place very soon. I fear that people who are good don’t live on earth.