rural visages..

t

feet soiled and wet drape leaves behind memories of village..

soil that bears,soil that gives,soil that is rich

din of quietness moves with the steps.....

A potter's life is a life of creativity giivng life to soil and clay...

She again

Dark, dense, green and thick
was the jungle I went across.
To forgo my fear and walk through it

where nature stood quiet and gross.                               

Branches bent and gibed at me
to hoover my thoughts I hid.
Heap of foliage then welcomed me
with one considerate push of wind.

 They had all shapes hanging there
Some where round and some had frills.
On the bed of grass had purple beads
and a swing of stem with leafy tendrils.


I lied down and gawked at azure,
Found myself in a room of white.
With all green and red and blue and yellow
butterflies as a fortuitous delight.


The flux of water killed my doze
when I dipped my feet in its cold.
Ford that had a glazing skin
looked spry to get time a hold.


Fishes danced around my feet
and stones seemed round enough.
I got washed off from inside
and asked them so that I could doff.


She owns a divinity and an ultimate love
where we glean over her figments apart.
To forget and lose and feel the breath
and sweep her inside into my heart

ballerina

set me free and I will dance beyond limits.......

चाचा नेहरु

चाचा नेहरु हूँ मैं तुम्हारा
जिसने लड़ी थी एक लड़ाई


इस देश को वहां देखने


की कसम थी जिसने खाई I

मैंने देखा था एक सपना


जब हर बच्चा होगा एक सिपाही


खूब पढो और उठो चलो


इस देश की तुम पर है जिम्मेवारी I

यह लाल गुलाब यह उजली टोपी


इतना बस हैं बतलाते


तुम्हारी महक से दुनिया गूंजे


इतनी खोज करो तुम सारे I


बचपन की यादें कहती हैं जब
कहाँ गया वह निर्भय साहस


सोचता हूँ खुद मैं हमेशा


कि समय सुखा देता है सब रस I


पर दिल में चेतना मुख पर चमक


ला देती है वे सारे पल


जब बेख़ौफ़ घुमा करते थे हम


जेब में रख कर देश का कल I

निदा फाजली

नई नई पोशाक बदलकर मौसम आते जाते हैं
फूल कहाँ जाते हैं जब भी जाते हैं लौट आते हैं


चलती फिरती धूप छाँव से चेहरा बाद में बनता है
पहले पहले सभी ख्यालों से तस्वीर बनाते हैं

शायद कुछ दिन और लगेंगे जख्मे दिल के भरने में

जो अक्सर याद आते थे वो कभी कभी याद आते हैं

I am sad...

I dont know what to say.
I never knew what to say.

When I lie down under the pool of stars,
All I can think is You didnt stay.

 We walked in the rain with bare foot.

We saw and felt how heaven appears.
You left me alone in the middle of the road.
Now I walk in the rain to hide my tears.

In the spring when flowers fell on my face'
you touched my cheeks to sweep them aside.
I am lying on the grass quiet and forlorn,
where once you kissed me and held by your side.



On the day when we went for a drive,
A tickling silence densed our love.

Today also a silence prevails,
ready for my peace to flail and shove.

leisure...

Indian colours of true devotion

standing azure and dancing childhood........

Heart's diary

There is one diary, intuitive diary known as "heart's diary" which writes and notes down every new and old event, feeling and experiences. It is only when this diary gets overfilled with barrage of emotions and deluge of thoughts, we need a diary of paper and pen to scribble the words fraught with an anxiety and fear of getting lost. This diary writes about the things lost and surprises that everyday we are offered by the almighty. I realize and offer my grain of gratitude to Him to make me potent enough to sense the beauty of life all around and the most beautiful thing that I see he has made is "me”. I am an entity whose eyes are made to see the greatest things of all time like presence of a mother, near to me, affectionating me, pampering me, swearing to loose everything for the one she loves and has cared for always.


Though words serve as a medium to continue the flow of thoughts and abridge the gap between what we feel and what we acclaim, sometimes they betray and prove themselves incapable of expressing. There remains something which I become unable to speak.