क्या लिखूं ?

कि वो परियों का रूप होती है
या कड़कती ठण्ड में सुहानी धूप होती है

वो होती है उदासी के हर मर्ज़ की दवा की तरह
या ओस में शीतल हवा की तरह

वो चिड़ियों की चहचहाहट है

या के निश्छल खिलखिलाहट है

वो आँगन में फैला उजाला है
या मेरे गुस्से पे लगा ताला है

वो पहाड़ की चोटी पे सूरज की किरण है
या ज़िन्दगी सही जीने का आचरण है

है वो ताकत जो छोटे से घर को महल बना दे
है वो काफिया जो किसी ग़ज़ल को मुकम्मल कर दे

क्या लिखूं ??

वो अक्षर जो न हो तो वर्ण माला अधूरी है
वो जो सबसे ज्यादा ज़रूरी है

ये नहीं कहूँगा कि वो हर वक़्त साथ साथ होती है 
बेटियाँ तो सिर्फ एक एहसास होती हैं

वो मुझसे ऑस्ट्रेलिया में छुट्टियां , मर्सेडीस में ड्राईव,
5 स्टार में डिन्नर या महंगे आइपोड्स नहीं मांगती
न वो ढेर से पैसे पिग्गी बैंक में उर्हेलना चाहती है
वो बस कुछ देर मेरे साथ खेलना चाहती है

और मैं कहता हूँ यही
कि बेटा बहुत काम है, नहीं करूँगा तो कैसे चलेगा
मजबूरी भरे दुनियादारी के जवाब देने लगता हूँ 

और वो झूठा ही सही ,
मुझे एहसास दिलाती है
कि जैसे सब कुछ समझ गई हो

लेकिन आँखें बंद कर के रोती है
जैसे सपने में खेलते हुए मेरे साथ सोती है

ज़िन्दगी न जाने क्यूँ इतनी उलझ जाती है
और हम समझते हैं , बेटियाँ सब समझ जाती हैं

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शैलेश लोढा aka तारक मेहता

रात चुप चाप से

रात चुप चाप से
अकेले आ जाती है
दस्तक भी नहीं देती
पता भी नहीं बताती अपना
बस आ कर के लेट जाती है साथ
जैसे बिन बताये ही सिरहाना खिसक कर
बाँहों में आ जाये और बदन से लग कर
कहे की किसका इंतज़ार करते हो
टकटकी बांधे देखते हो अँधेरे में
सायों ओ आगोश में लेने की कोशिश करते हो
और यह नहीं सोचते की ये साए भी
मेरी वजह से ही हैं

Rajshekhar Malviya
Brand Curry
VP

चुनिन्दा

फरमाइशें जिद्द को पैदा करती हैं
जिद्द से झगड़ा होता है
झगडे से रूठना और रूठने से मनाना
और मनाने का मतलब है प्यार
इसलिए पूरी हो या न हो फरमाइशें होती रहनी चाहिए
कम से कम इसी बहाने प्यार का पता चलता रहता है
शरद जोशी

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न न रहने दो, मत मिटाओ इन्हें,
इन लकीरों को यूँ ही रहने दो,
नन्हे नन्हे गुलाबी हाथों से मेरे मासूम नन्हे बच्चे ने
टेढ़ी मेढ़ी लकीरें खींची हैं
क्या हुआ शक्ल बन सकी न अगर
मेरे बच्चे के हाथ हैं इन में
मेरी पहचान है इन लकीरों में
गुलज़ार

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निकलना खुर्द से अदम का सुनते आये थे लेकिन,
बड़े बे-आबरू होकर तेरे कूचे से हम निकले
ग़ालिब

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लुका छिपी कामयाबी का खेल है

प्रतिभाशाली जीव के लिए सुन्दरता कोई मायने नहीं रखता
एनिमल प्लेनेट

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Sad Poem

Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question …
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?

Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.”

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old … I grow old …
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

गीताँजली

जब लगा की थक कर हुआ चूर,

पथ मेरा मुझसे हुआ दूर,

हर काम रुका, पाथेय चूका,

थी यही नियती, अति कठिन- क्रूर;

अब कहीं किसी कोने में जा,

करना होगा कहीं ओढ़,

वे दीन हीन से जीर्ण वसन;

तब देख रहा यह चकित आज,

तेरी लीला का नहीं पार,

फिर धार उमर आई कोई,

मुझमे बहती नूतन बयार;

जब गई पुरानी भाषा मर,

नव गीत उठे छाती में भर,

जब पूरा हुआ पुराना पथ,

आये नव प्रांतर,क्षितिज उभर..

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रविन्द्र नाथ ठाकुर

खुद को जताया जाए...

चलो आज...
किसी सोये हुए रिश्ते को जगाया जाए,
किसी का दिल बहलाया जाए,
किसी का दिन बनाये जाए,
किसी को कुछ बताया जाए.


जो दूर हो उसे पास बुलाया जाए,
जो पास हो उसे ख़ास बनाया जाए,
सूखे किसी दिल को भिगाया जाए,
किसी पर तो प्यार लुटाया जाए.


जो रोता हो उसे हंसाया जाए,
जो रूठा हो उसे मनाया जाए,
किसी से सुन किसी को सुनाया जाए,
ग़मों को भूलकर थोड़ा मुस्कुराया जाए.

किसी का नंबर मिलाया जाए,
किसी का फ़ोन खनकाया जाए,
दिलों के फासलों को मिटाया जाए,
फिर एक नई दुनिया बनाया जाए,

चलो आज, खुद को जताया जाए...

AIRTEL
Express Yourself

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This is a commercial I've written for Airtel.
It is my personal work and i hope to apply it someday to my favourite Telecom Service Provider brand.

Tagore's Gitanjali

"My song has put off her adornments.

She has no pride of dress and decoration.

Ornaments would mar our union;

they would come between thee and me;

their jingling would drown thy whispers."

"My poet's vanity dies in shame before thy sight.

O master poet, I have sat down at thy feet.

Only let me make my life simple and straight,

like a flute of reed for thee to fill with music."

Love

Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.

Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;

For love is sufficient unto love.

think not you can direct the course of love, for love,

if it finds you worthy, directs your course.

Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.

But if you love and must needs have desires,

let these be your desires:

To melt and be like a running brook

that sings its melody to the night.

To know the pain of too much tenderness.

To be wounded by your own understanding of love;

And to bleed willingly and joyfully.

To wake at dawn with a winged heart

and give thanks for another day of loving;

To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;

To return home at eventide with gratitude;

And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart

and a song of praise upon your lips.

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Khalil Gibran

Where The Mind is Without Fear

Where the mind is without fear

and the head is held high

Where knowledge is free

Where the world has not been broken up into fragments

By narrow domestic walls

Where words come out from the depth of truth

Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection

Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way

Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit

Where the mind is led forward by thee

Into ever-widening thought and action

Into that heaven of freedom, my Father,

let my country awake

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Rabindranath Tagore

The Road Not Taken

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood,

and I — I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

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Robert Frost

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound's the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

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Robert Frost

If....

If you can keep your head when all about you

are losing theirs and blaming it on you;

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too:

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,

Or being hated don't give way to hating,

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream — and not make dreams your master;

If you can think — and not make thoughts your aim,

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same.

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings,

And never breathe a word about your loss:

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings — nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much:

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And which is more;

you'll be a Man, my son!

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Rudyard Kipling

कबीर वाणी

नैनं अंतर आव तो नैन झांप तोहे लूं,

न मैं देखूं और को, न तोहे देखन दूं.

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मेरा मुझ में कुछ नहीं,

जो कुछ है सो तेरा ,

तेरा तुझको सौंप दे,

क्या लागे है मेरा.

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सोऊँ तो सपने मिलूँ,

जागूँ तो मन माहि,

लोचन राते सब घड़ी,

बिसरत कबहूँ नाहीं.

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साधू कहावत कठिन है,

लम्बा पेड़ खजूर,

चढ़े तो चाखे प्रेम रस,

गिरे तो चकना चूर.

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चाह गई चिंता मिटी, मनवा बेपरवाह,

जिनको कछु न चाहिए, वो ही शहंशाह.

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सबद सबद सब कोई कहे,

सबद के हाथ न पाँव,

एक सबद औषध करे,

एक सबद किर घाव.

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जब हम जग में पग धरयो ,

सब हँसे हम रोये,

कबीर अब ऐसी कर चलो,

पाछे हंसी न होए.

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जो कछु किया सो तुम किया,

मैं कछु किया नाहीं,

कहो कही जो मैं किया,

तुम ही थे मुझ माहीं.

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आठ पहर चौसंठ घडी,

मेरे और न कोय,

नैना माहीं तू बसे,

नींद को ठोर न होय.

abida parveen sings....

मैं हुस्न-ए-मुजस्सिम हूँ,

मैं गेसू-ए-बरहम हूँ,

मैं फूल हूँ शबनम हूँ,

मैं जलवा-ए-जनाना,

मैं वासिफ-ए-बिस्मिल हूँ,

मैं रौनक-ए-महफ़िल हूँ,

एक टूटा हुआ दिल हूँ,

मैं शहर में विराना...

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हज़रत वासिफ अली वासिफ....

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हुस्न-ए-मुजस्सिम - सबसे हसीन;
गेसू-ए-बरहम - बिखरे हुए बाल .

xxxxxxx

जिस दिन के सजन बिछड़े हैं,

तिस दिन का दिल बीमार होया,

xxxxx
इश्क क्या शय है,

किसी कामिल से पूछा चाहिए,

किस तरह जाता है दिल,

बे दिल से पूछा चाहिए

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हज़रत वारिस शाह

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कामिल- पढ़ा लिखा.

xxxx

तेरी सूरत से नहीं मिलती किसी की सूरत,

हम जहाँ में तेरी तस्वीर लिए फिरते हैं!

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तू मिला भी है, तू जुदा भी है, तेरा क्या कहना!

तू सनम भी है, तू खुदा भी है, तेरा क्या कहना!

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निगह-ए-नाज़ से पूछेंगे किसी दिन ये ज़हीन,

तूने क्या-क्या न बनाया, कोई क्या-क्या न बना...

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हज़रत ज़हीन शाह ताजी...

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जो मैं ऐसा जानती, प्रेम किये दुःख होए,

नगर ढिंढोरा पीटती, प्रेम न करियो कोई..

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नैना तुम्ही बुरी हो, तुम सा बुरा न कोय...

आप ही प्रीत की आग लगाये, आप ही बैठा रोये...

xxxxx
नदी किनारे धुआँ उठे, मैं जानू कुछ होए,

जिस कारण मैं जोगन बनी,कहीं वो ही न जलता होए...

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हज़रात मिसरी शाह

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प्रीतम को पतियाँ लिखूं, जो कहीं होवे बिदेस,

तन में, मन में, नैन में, ता को कहाँ संदेस..

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हज़रत शाह अब्दुल लतीफ़ भिताई

good one

मैं रोया परदेस में ,

भीगा माँ का प्यार,

दिल ने दिल से बात की,

बिन चिट्ठी बिन तार....

xxxxx

सीधा सादा डाकिया,

जादू करे महान,

एक ही थैले में भरे,

आँसू और मुस्कान...

xxxxx
निदा फ़ाज़्लि..

Rumi unleashed

"When I am with you, we stay up all night.
When you're not here, I can't go to sleep.
Praise God for those two insomnias!
And the difference between them."

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"It may be that the satisfaction I need
depends on my going away,
so that when I've gone and come back,
I'll find it at home."

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"Your task is not to seek for love,
but merely to seek and find
all the barriers within yourself
that you have built against it."

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You are in love with me,
I shall make you perplexed.
Do not build much,
for I intend to have you in ruins.
If you build two hundred houses
in a manner that the bees do;
I shall make you as homeless
as a fly.
If you are the mount Qaf in stability.
I shall make you whirl like a millstone.
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If you are irritated by every rub,

how will your mirror be polished?
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How could you reach the pearl
by only looking at the sea?
If you seek the pearl,
be a diver:
the diver needs several qualities:
he must trust his rope and
his life to the Friend's hand,
he must stop breathing,
and he must jump.
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The soul which cannot endure fire
and smoke
won't find the Secret.
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"This is love:
to fly toward a secret sky,
to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment.
First to let go of life.
Finally, to take a step without feet."

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RUMI

Illusions

Don’t be
Dismayed at good- byes.
A farewell is necessary before
You can meet
Again
And meeting
Again, after moments or
Lifetimes, is certain for
those who are
friends

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You are
Never given a wish
without also being given the
Power to make it true.
You may
Have to work for it,
However

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The bond
That links your true family
Is not one of blood, but
Of respect and joy in
Each other’s life.
Rarely do members
Of one family grow up
Under the same
Roof

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You
Teach best
What you most need
To learn

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Live
Never to be
Ashamed of anything you do
Or say is published
Around the world-
Even if
What is published
Is not true

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Your friends
Will know you better
In the first minute you meet
Than
Your acquaintances
Will know you in
A thousand
Years

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Your only
Obligation, in any lifetime
Is to be true to yourself.
Being true to anyone else or
Anything else is impossible.

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(Richard Bach)

nice one

One day you'll ask me:

"which is more important, my life or yours?"

I'll say "mine" and

you'll walk away,

not knowing that

"you are my life".

-khalil gibran

kuchh aur...

न मैं तलाश करुँ तुम में, जो नहीं हो तुम;

न तुम तलाश करो मुझ में, जो नहीं हूँ मैं.

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यहाँ कोई किसी को रास्ता नहीं देता;

मुझे गिरा के अगर तुम संभल सको

तो चलो;

किसी के वास्ते राहें कहाँ बदलतीं हैं,

तुम अपने आप को खुद ही बदल सको

तो चलो.

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मुझ जैसा एक आदमी, मेरा ही हमनाम,

उल्टा सीधा वो चले, मुझे करे बदनाम.

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-Nida Faazli

ज़िन्दगी का अलग रूप

क्या सोचते हैं हम और क्या हो जाता है,

ज़िन्दगी का अलग ही रूप सामने आता है,

हमारे सारे सपने यूँ टूट जाते हैं,

जैसे पतझड़ में पत्ते पेड़ों का साथ छोड़ जाते हैं,

कहते हैं की आँखों से आंसू गिरते हैं,

पर मैंने इन्हें दिल से निकलते देखा है,

अपनी ज़िन्दगी को अपने सामने,

मृत्यु में बदलते देखा है,आता है एक समय भी ऐसा,

जब हमारे सारे सपने कहीं खो जाते हैं,

हम अपना अस्तित्व खो कर भी ,

जिंदा रहने के लिए मजबूर हो जाते हैं,

हर इच्छा हर चाह से मन विरान हो जाता है,

ये वो गुलशन है जो अपने उजड़ने का मातम मनाता है,

क्यों हमारी ज़िन्दगी हमारे सपनो के मुताबिक नहीं चलती,

क्यों ये दुनिया हमारे शब्दों को भूलकर,

दिल की आवाज़ को नहीं सुनती,

क्यों अपने परिश्रम का बलिदान कर देने पर भी,

हम भाग्यहीन रह जाते हैं,

क्यों देते हुए दूसरों को बहुत,

हमारे खुद के हाथ खाली रह जाते हैं,

मेरे अब तक के जीवन का यही सार है,

बहते आंसू, टूटे सपने,हमारे ,

ये ही , जीवन के आधार हैं...

xxxx

Kavita- my colleague at Newfields