कहीं दूर......

For that someone special in your life...

आ उड़ चलें कहीं दूर....
जहाँ बस तू हो मेरे साथ,
जहाँ मिट्टी में हो मिठास,

जहाँ पत्ते भी गीत गायें,
जहाँ तेरे होंठ बस मुस्कुराएं.

आ उड़ चलें कहीं दूर...

पानी वहां का नीला हो,
और धारा हो हसीं.

एक आशियाँ वहां रंगीला हो,
जहाँ हमनशीं हो करीब.

आ मेरे साथ, कर मेरा इख्तियार...

तेरे हसीन बदन को संभल मैं,
ले जाऊं कहीं उस पार मैं

जहाँ जहान की बातें न हों,
जहान छुपे इरादे न हों,

जहान तेरी हंसी की गूँज से झूमे जमीन आसमां,
जहान तेरी प्यारी खुसबू से खिले फूल और बागियाँ

जहान तेरे पैरों की चाप से हो नयी सुबह,
जहान तेरे सोने की चाह से हो जाए अँधेरा.


अब तो आ मेरे सनम... अब तो आ... अब तो आ...

Poignance

Just four lines I've written after a long-long time... for a love long lost.

Sounds sweet; across doors granite,
beckon me away from now and new.

Sing O' heart, of her depart,
of her renege, the ephemeral dew.

Freedom

Please note that this article is subversive. I don't believe it completely myself.

What is freedom?

Time infinite for leisure,
Liberty to scrounge all the treasure.

Joy unabashed of a roamer,
Nada, no-one bound with a loner.

Shackles watermarked on your skin,
Claustral past, for so-called sins.

Free now, to do as you please.
Will you ever cease the peace?

Wild you aren't, 'coz molded you were.
Free you aren't, 'coz held you were.

You feel free but, this they accomplished.
You can't be free, after years of service.

Freedom has a different connotation for everyone.

Browsing through my childhood photographs, I couldn't help but wonder how every thing changes as we are growing up. Your dreams become more & more pragmatic as you realize the limitations of your achievement. Your thoughts become more & more realistic as your responsibilities manifest in front of you...

Freedom has different consequences for everyone.

Remember Rudyard Kipling's Mowgli, the infant lost in a jungle, raised by a pack of wolves. How did freedom transform him? Sequestered from civilization, he became wild, a man-cub, a half-animal with extraordinary combination of hunting skills and cunning.

What would happen if a teenager were to be liberated of all duties & responsibilities? What if all his prior social inhibitions & tendencies were washed away? Such a person would most probably materialize into a good-for-nothing-burden-on-society. It may as well be the other way round. But, that's a very bleak possibility.

So, what is so good about freedom?

When a man has grown out of his elders' and teachers' shadows, he is supposed to be responsible for himself. He is supposed to be free. But, is that really so? The years of social fostering has created in him a sense of accountability. He lives in civilization, following all the rules required for survival & acceptance.

The virtues & vices that he has picked up during the years don't leave him. Neither should they. He knows respect, courtesy, love. He knows betrayal, hate, contempt. He's free to act as he wants. But, what he wants is not governed by who he is. It come from his surroundings & his relations.

So, if freedom can never be absolute, we have to ask ourselves. Is it overrated?

The Walks of Life

This is a poem about the ups and downs of life as reflected by the two different moods in the poem. I am sorry if the sudden change in stanzas throws you 0ff a little, but that's how life is...

Oh! The walks of life
How quick the things can change?
I've been treading lies
As long as I reminisce.
Oh! The bitterness,
of everything gone wrong.
Oh! The broken pair,
of limbs yet too strong.
They've parted me,
and my will to live with them.
They've parted me,
and no more can I withstand.

Born anew, from the ashes I rise.
Mysterious marks beneath my eyes.
You can't, you won't escape from me.
I am the one who wins the game.
I am the one who trumps the sorrow.
I am the one to rise tomorrow.

Here it comes again,
How quick the paths can change?
The well, it looms in front,
calling out my name.

A leap of faith or deluge,
a risky chance or no use,
an open battle or surrender,
you must choose, you must choose.

...this is not complete. I am working on adding a few more stanzas.

Just Tidbits!!!

Writings of light assault the darkness, more prodigious than meteors.

- Jorge Luis Borges

I am starting a new blog after a long hiatus. My previous attempts at this tricky art went spiraling downwards after a few stable moments and a couple of encouraging comments. Moreover, that seems to be the general trend in blogging these days. Everyone has had a blog or two in the past. But now it is either dormant or inactive or not-updated or whatever the adjective (with exceptional exceptions, of course!)

But, the point is, if you're creative enough, as I like to think I am, you always reach a certain point where you'd like to exhibit your creations again. Evidently, there is no better (and cheaper) medium than blogging to do so. So, with all the trepidation in the world coiled up inside of me, this is my new blog and hopefully, some are gonna like whatever subversion I lay on them.

Adieu!

(until my next post).