Tag Archives: poetry

मेरी पेहचान….

31 Jul
I remember this journey. I was traveling to Mumbai in a bus and as I took my seat, I saw an old woman holding a little boy in her lap and a big suitcase in the other trying to get into the bus. I went ahead to help her get her luggage and escorted her to her seat. As she sat down, settled her son and breathed a heavy sigh, she thanked me and said (in Marathi) – “I guess I can’t do anything by myself!”
I could sense a weird concoction of helplessness and hopefulness in that statement. Probably she had desired something so badly that the failure made her crestfallen. Or probably she just had a million dreams which were never fulfilled. But what inspired me the most was her enthusiasm. As this famous quote by Winston Churchill goes –
“Success is the ability to go from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm”
I found the lines that I had then scribbled in my notepad a few days ago and decided to complete the poem. A tribute to the failures and the successes hidden behind them!
*
ना कभी मैंने धरी इस हाथ में तलवार हैं,
ना कभी इस दिल से उमड़ी शौर्य की ललकार हैं|
भयभीत सा मेरा मुकुट, असहायता ही शान हैं,
आम से भी आम ऐसी ही मेरी पेहचान हैं|
.
ना कभी किसी जंग में, संघर्ष का हिस्सा बना,
ना कभी किसी जीत के जयघोष से सीना तना|
ना ही मेरे आंसुओं में मोतियों सी जान हैं,
आम से भी आम ऐसी ही मेरी पेहचान हैं|
.
मैंने बस जीवन में मेरे रिक्त स्थानों को भरा,
और मेरी सोच को भी बंधनों ने हैं धरा|
मेरे मन में न कोई अंगार हैं, तूफान हैं,
आम से भी आम ऐसी ही मेरी पेहचान हैं|
.
बंद मुट्ठी खोल दूं, या बादलों के पर बुनूं?
या क्षितिज की अंतहीन लालिमा को लांघ दूं?
खोल दो पिंजरा भी लेकिन, पंख में न जान हैं,
आम से भी आम ऐसी ही मेरी पेहचान हैं|
**************
P.S: I apologize to those who do no understand Hindi. I will certainly try to come up with an English translation. If anyone wants to volunteer, please feel free!
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Valley of Thoughts

11 May

It was just one of those solitary moments when I was immersed in the past – reminiscing and relishing. It often surprises me how the ‘self’ and the soul lay apart. It is this subversive conflict that palpates the drama which sometimes is fascinating and at others frustrating.

Nature at its bounty or when barren is capable of putting a mirror in front of us and make us look deeper into this conjecture of self-conflict. It is just impossible for poetry to not happen using nature and its elements as a metaphor. As I chanced upon this thought, a few lines came to my mind which I scribbled on a scrap paper near me. Here is the story which the valley in my thoughts told me…

Through the serpentine turns it lay,

With it’s arms open wide.

Is it yearning for ripples or rain?

Or just a mere tide?

The mountains surround with brawn,

Yet shorn of their pride,

Like the paradoxical challenges,

That keep the joy aside.

The clouds eclipse the Amber,

Turning it to the dark.

Igniting a fire somewhere within,

As elusive as reality stark.

And yet again the night recedes,

Breaking the spasm of dawn.

The twinkling dew drops witness,

The ruptured moments by gone.

***********************

Photograph Courtesy –  Abhishek Bhattacherjee (The Oasis, Austin, TX)

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