Poorva Chalne Ke Batohi..

Another one by Harivansh Rai Bachchan.. reading him one realises what classics are made of. The stanzas in bold..these i remember from class eighth..and they struck a chord somewhere.. and it was only sometime back that i was able to retrieve the whole of the poem with the help of these words.

Poorva chalne ke batohi, 
baat ki pehchaan kar le 


Pustako mein hai nahi 
Chhapi gayi iski kahani. 
Haal iska gynat hota Hai 
na auro ki zubaani. 


Anginat raahi gaye 
Is raah se, unkaa pataa kyaa? 
Par gaye kucch log is par 
Chhod pairo ki nishaani.


Yeh nishaani mook hokar 
Bhi bahut kuch bolti hai. 
Khol iskaa arth panthi 
Path ka anumaan kar le.


Poorva chalne ke batohi, 
baat ki pehchaan kar le.


Yeh buraa hai yaa ki accha 
Vyarth din is par bitaana, 
Ab asambhav chhod yeh path 
Doosre par pag badhaana. 


Tu ise accha samajh, 
Yatra saral isse banegi. 
Soch mat keval tujhe hi 
Yeh padaa man mei bitana


Har safal panthi yahi 
Vishvaas le is par badhaa hai 
Tu isi par aaj apne 
Chit ka avdhaan kar le.


Poorva chalne ke batohi, 
baat ki pehchaan kar le.


Hai anishchit kis jagah par 
Sarit, giri, gahvar milenge
Hai anishchit kis jagah par
Baag ban sundar milenge


Kis jagah yatra khatam ho
Jayegi yeh bhi anishchit 
Hai anishchit kab suman kab 
Kantako ke shar milenge, 


Kaun sahasaa choot jayenge, 
Milienge kaun sahasaa. 
Aa pade kuch bhi, rookegaa 
Tu na, aisi aan kar le

Swapna aata hai sukhon ka 

driga korkon mein deepti aati 

pankh kag jaatey pagon ko 

lalakti unmukt chaati

raste ka ek kaanta 
paon ka dil cheer deta
rakt ki do boond girti 
ek duniya doob jati 


aankh mein ho swapna lekin 
paaon prithvi par tikey hon 
kantakon ki is anokhi 
seekh ka sammaan karle 


Poorva chalne ke batohi, 
baat ki pehchaan karle

Jo Beet Gayi So Baat Gayi

Sharing some of my favourite hindi poems in a series. This one is by Harivansh Rai Bachchan.. you must have read it before

Jo Beet Gayi So Baat Gayi


Jeevan mein ek sitara tha
Maana woh behad pyara tha
Woh doob gaya to doob gaya
Ambar ke aanan ko dekho
Kitne iske tare toote
Kitne iske pyare chhoote
Jo chhoot gaye phir kahan mile
Par bolo toote taron par
Kab ambar shok manata hai
Jo beet gayi so baat gayi ....

Jeewan mein tha who ek kusum
The us pe nitya nyochawar tum
Wo sookh gaya to sookh gaya
Madhuwan ki chaati ko dekho
Sookhi kitni iski kaliyan
Jo murjhai phir kahan khili
Par bolo sookhe phoolon pe
Kab madhuvan shok manata hai ?

Jo beet gayi so baat gayi

Jeewan mein madhu ka pyala tha
Tumne tan man de daala tha
Woh toot gaya to toot gaya
Madiralay ka aangan dekho
Kitne pyaale hil jaate hain
Gir mitti mein mil jate hain
Jo girte hain kab uthte hain
Par bolo toote pyalon mein 
kab madiralay pachtata hai ?

Jo beet gayi so baat gayi

Mridu mitti ke hain bane huye
Madhu ghat phoota hi kartein hain
Laghu jeewan leke aaye hain
Pyale toota hi karte hain
Phir bhi madiralay ke andar
Madhu ke ghat madhu ke pyale hain
Jo madakta ke mare hain
Wo madhu loota hi karte hain
Wo kachcha peene wala hai
Jiski mamta ghat pyalon par
Jo sachche madhu se jala hua
Kab rota hai chillata hai?

Panther!

Introducing to my blog.. the love of my life! the sparkle of my eyes! It doesn't matter if you have bitten all my shoes atleast once, it doesn't matter that you jump more when Hina comes home than when i do!, it doesn't matter if you do naughty things with maxie, it doesn't matter that you distract me when i'm trying to study!! nothing matters..just that you are you! :)

Will post more pics in time

sath ho kar door hain

pyar hai ya garoor hai

kaash pehle jaan paate

ab ahem se majboor hain

na jaan-na na maan-na

na pyar ko pehchaan-na

ye kya hua aur kab hua

ki hai pada ab haarna

jab jaam tha to piya nahi

jab saath tha to dia nahi

hai hamare paas bahana

samay ne waqt diya nahi

karte gaye tumhari baatein

dil se aur dimag se

dil ne kaha 'ab bas karo'

dimag laga sochne.

rona aise aaya

nadiya rukh mod chali

aansuon ki jhari lagi,

ek duniya doob gayi

Fatal Attraction (Acrostic)

Fool was Dr. Faustus, for who else would

Abet damnation and rot in hell,

Trading his soul for power and mirth

Assisting his own tragic end,

Little could he have predicted,

A fatal attraction would make him pay

Tethered and damned he ended wasted, a

Tale we heard Marlowe say

Remember his words

And never forgo, what's

Considered coveted 

Today, could feel

Intolerable tomorrow, an

Obsession today, left

Neglected tomorrow

For more pls visit : http://acrosticonly.blogspot.com/2009/04/fatal-attraction.html

Friendship Acrostic

Friendship is a

Royal treat,

Insatiable hunger's

Eternal feast

No dress code, just

Don a 

Smile

Happiness will flow like sweet sunshine

Incessant chatter, laughter erupts

Pals for life, it's a lifetime's trust.

------------------------------------------

And this one is dedicated to my sweetest friend Hina.. i love her more than i love me :)..this lallu poem is not even an iota of what our friendship means to me. but now that i penned it down in jest.. i thought i would just as well post it. :)

For years and years

Remarkably we have

Imagined together

Endless dreams

Naive to smart

Duds to chics

Sinfully we have had so much fun

Hina's your name

I'll be there for you,

Promise me the same

For more pls visit: http://acrosticonly.blogspot.com/2009/04/friendship.html

Waqt ka Samvad

Tried my hand at Hindi poetry..sm days back..aise hi:

Abhi aaj hai

kal gaaj hai

yeh waqt ka

samvaad hai

Kal maun hai

kal shunya hai

ab aaj hai

ab satya hai

Ye waqt ki

hi baat hai

abhi aaj hai

kal gaaj hai

----------------

Uttejna

uttar nahi

samvedna se

jaan-na

Sanyam parakh

mushkil bada

paida karein

sneh bhawna

Yeh krodh ik

vinaash hai

ab aaj hai

kal gaaj hai

------------------

beeta samay

bhule chale

kuch seekh kar

fir pag dhare

Aage lagan

mann mein magan

ye roz ki toh

baat hai

abhi aaj hai

kal gaaj hai

yeh waqt ka

samvaad hai

---------------------

Expecto Patronum

On the beach she sat. Visual impressions of her life appearing and disappearing in consortium with the waves that played with the shore before her. Tears were flowing easy that evening.. so easy that she barely realised she was crying until she tasted the salinity in her mouth. She didn't take off her glasses.. she didn't wipe off the tears from the sides of her shoulders.. she didn't even move. Every now and then she would squeeze her eyes and heavy drops of tears would come running down .. some wetting her neck, some falling down on the sand on which she was sitting with her arms around her legs.. her favourite position. These were not tears, something inside was telling her, this was the cleansing of her soul. This was required before she could actually move on. 'Pain is important', she told herself. 'Extreme emotions lead you ahead, they teach you and they bring about changes in you. Time of extreme emotions are few but they remain with you. You will have to go through this phase, not once not twice for quite a few times, before you can get in complete control of yourself.'

At a distance not very far from where she sat.. she saw two puppies frolicking about. With their little teeth they were teasing one another, tugging at each others tails, their ears flapping, tiny tongues hanging out. Happy and innocent moves, ever on a look out for the next mischief. There was comfort in their sport, the world of purity in their bright eyes and pure almost inconceivable happiness in their puny tails..aiming towards the sky..as if challenging it. The sight made her cry all the more, it reminded her of her lost innocence. But just then, one of the puppies, that had come quite close to her, realised her presence and as if in a marvelling glance seemed to ask her, "huh? you?"! His little demure face slightly bent towards one side as the tiny ear lobe swung in the air. It looked at her in amazement and with courage came close to her. The pup seemed to be speculating in his mind, "Will she move or not? Is she a toy? Would she hurt me or give me a nice treat?" The little fellow came closer as she extended her hand wanting to touch it. Sceptic that the pup was, he came closer to sniff, but the very next moment hopped back two steps, in a half standing half lying position, a play-with-me posture that is a visual delight for any dog lover. 

A smile broke at last. 

The smears of tears against her skin were still showing but with his playful charade the pup had made a fan. She extended her hand again and made a sound of endearment. The fellow sprinted at her but this time did not scoot off like before. He licked her hand..once twice again and again.. he licked and licked and licked.. she wondered if he has a liking for her hand because of the saline taste of tears on them. She let him lick as much as he wanted. The ticklish feeling was divine. Something some people have never experienced. It felt therapeutic to her dried soul. The other pup soon joined them and in no time she was up and running along the sea side, with the little ones following her excitedly..jumping hopping sprinting.. all so joyfully. The trio made a happy group..her grief drowned in their happiness. What were they celebrating? What made them jump in jubilation for no reason at all? How could she forget her sorrow that seemed almost Brobdingnagian in size? 

I don't have the answers. But happiness be gets happiness. Sorrow will come again and so will happiness from unexpected quarters. Identify happiness and live, that's all she learnt.

For more tales visit tell-a-tale: http://storyteller0001.blogspot.com/2009/04/week-5.html

Pain is Addictive

Programmed to find

Another reason for misery

Inclined to dig, a

Nonchalant mystery

Incredible trait, this

Sadist in all of us

Alluring we find the sweet sensation

Deathly is the clutch

Dependent we become and

Instinctively touch, upon

Collection of memories 

Tidbits of soul

Invitation to join them always allures

Vacation of pain beckons, another

Entertaining painful thought to ponder

Written for Acrostic Only 

rain

I want.

More of this rain

To touch me again

make me feel the wonder

the shudder and the thunder

drops on the ground

the drizzling sound

the earth so warm

a stream is born.

Someplace else

li'l droplets form

a river forlorn.

Me? I'm in daze

skin set ablaze

heart out of cage.

The rain treads

on untouched estate

trespasses my person

out on excursion!

to curves forbidden

to spheres hidden

mocking the rules

unstopped - unchecked

transgressing fearless

wandering on me

and how i love it

Nostalgia (my first Acrostic attempt)

Never ending

Oscillations of this

Swinging mind 

Tearful yet tantalising memories

Augment with time

Longing for a beautiful past or

Grief for a loved one sits stored 

In this nostalgic heart

Abandoned, ignored

Written for Acrostic Only

the more things...

The more things change the more they remain the same.. the more i delve deeper into its meaning the more pragmatic and sensible this theory appears to me.. the more i run away, the closer i find myself. So, why not sit still and as a friend said some time back.. "let things happen" rather than inching forward and 'making' things happen. I belong to the latter group almost since birth i guess.. i don't wait for things to happen, i would rather do them. It's a natural tendency that has landed me in trouble more often than i would have liked.

--------------------

You know there is a belief in Chinese astrology that says that all the people in the world have certain basic characteristics on the basis of which they can be shelved into one or more categories like wood, water, metal, fire or earth. It says all the people generally have all these elements but the most dominating element can be said to be our personality element. I like to have a theory attached to things specially to my behaviour patters.. it is my way of simplifying my life cz otherwise i am an OCD patient when it comes complexifying things in my head. :) and i won't change.

Here's a link to a test which many would find stupid.. i somehow sometimes enjoy doing these things..am not a believer though, just like to play around. If u want you can try and find out which personality trait you are.. click:  http://lotusinstitute.com/5ElementsQuiz.html

--------------------

I wanna write a lot of things but don't want many people to read. Will find a solution to this soon.

madness

what i want i dont get

what i get i dont want

in this rigmarole of giving receiving

and constant expectation

happiness has gone missing

wud a call make me happy?

or is it smthing deep i desire

why do i feel im having to hold on

clutching smthing that isnt there

just so that this moment passes

and i realise that the time is gone

fooling screaming shouting inside

smiling loving accepting at fore

you be yourself all the time

but was it you, were you like this before?

why expect whats not there

why i want to share it all?

i dont get pleasure diary

all i seem to find is pain

i want to be thankful

but inside im insane

im not ready to ask

no no no no no no no 

i dont want to ask

and to get smthing that way

i want to be honest

and to be my best

i manage to be good 

but what about the rest

its not about me, 

im not to blame

i should make the efforts 

but i cant seem to face

im sad

im sad

i dont want to be this way

this aint a poem

the last thing it is is a song

it is an unrhyming bunch of words

woven together forcefully,

trying to resonate 

my life that makes no sense

to my emotions which run amok 

nor there's any rhyme to this prose

there's not even a name you can give to it

just like you don't name a road that leads no where

i leave it abandoned without a trace

School chalein hum!!

Busy with the humdrum of my life.. taking along inside me a heart full of perplexions and reflections, i was walking along the road i take everyday to reach the mainroad from where i take a rickshaw to the metro station. After a lot of days i was feeling light as well as right, my walk reflecting my state of mind- calm, but resolved. I waved to a rickshaw and boarded it. As happens daily, i passed by a school on my way. But unlike everyday, today i couldn't hear the drums and a band being played at its morning assembly nor was there a mêlée of students entering the school premises in their usual fashion. But what i saw brought an instant smile to my face and my mind hurled back to my school days and all the good things it lead to. That's when instantaneously this post took birth in my head. 

There were students outside the school some of them dressed up in their school uniforms, accompanied by their mothers and fathers. They were either going in or coming out of the big black iron school gate. Oh yes, i said to me, it was a PTA meeting, aka Parent-and-Teacher Meet (i've never known what the 'A' in PTA stands for.. 'association', is it?) 

But this was not what made me smile. It was the report cards and fresh stack of books being carried by the students and their parents that brought back sweet memories of the PTA meetings in my school (Kulachi Hansraj Model School, Ashok Vihar, pbui) and how we looked forward to these meets..(err.. ok till primary school we really did look forward to reportcards, ok?) The smell of new books, all bound in transparent book covers and all kinds of practical files and drawing stuff and art books and what not! Stationery material continues to tempt me till date, but the craze to open newly printed school books was surreal and oh! darn me if i let even a crease befall on the spine of my precious new book..NO SIR! Hehe.. it's fad i am yet to overcome! 

Getting the list of books and then ticking all those which were needed for the class i was promoted to..handing it over to the guy across the make-shift bookshop and waiting for my beautiful beautiful stack of books to be placed before me on the table. (later we would count the books and check if all are as per the 'list' ;))  Reluctantly though, but agreeing with Mom's reasoning not to shell money to buy more practical files, colourboxes, notebook covers and other material which wasn't really essential.but was thrown in the list JLT. She would say, "Last year's were still untouched weren't they? Or, sure those could be used again! Or anyway, the neighbourhood shopkeeper sold the same files and stuff at half the price, why not buy from him?.." would go on Mum's explanations. :) It didn't really matter! As long as my books were new and spotlessly clean..who cares about other stuff! Of course the fetish for having uncreased, untouched-looking books always wore out within a few days of study.....

And the Parent Teacher Meet! How nice! To have the teacher say nice things about you to your parents! Nothing like it! I remember i used to beg Mum to visit ALL my subject teachers (english and social sciences one - always. Math? never!) but that never happened cz we were always in a hurry! Wonder why! But we never left without meeting friends and introducing their parents to our parents and getting introduced as well. It was like a mela! Kids of all shapes and sizes (i was in size mouse category, if such exists) leading their parents to respective classrooms to introduce the mata pita to the guru and fir daant shuru! Scenes of some students getting scolded by either the parents or the teacher were usual on these days, their (the student's) imaginary tail between the legs..idher kuan udhar khaai.. PTM par jaan par ban aayi! haha (chuckle!)

Sometimes one would also find teachers being subject to criticism or questioning by a zealous parent, his kid standing horrified..petrified..!!  He now knew his "chandrama".. what future lectures of this teacher would do to him.. the teacher would take his/her revenge in times to come...he knew! 

Me? I was a good student i guess.. except for in eleventh standard.. i don't think any teacher of mine really hated me. Nice marks, good overall score.. ofcourse my name was always innocuously missing from the list of school toppers but i generally secured some rank in class till 8th std and after that it was usually 80 % and above. Now, that was some contentment, rank was never into our list of coveted things in higher classes!.. we had better things on our mind! 

:)

Coming back to the books part.. i remember what a treat the English Interactive Reader used to be! So many new stories! The session wouldn't have begun and i would have read the whole book..such zest! and when in class the teacher would ask.. "Has anyone cared to read this text?".. Up went the hands of those who had! Mine included.."Yes, ma'am, i have".

 

Random Express

Emotions.. why do they loom large over all of us? Those of us who are in touch with our spiritual side as well as those who just touch the surface, never taking the plunge. I keep diving in the abyss of good old thinking about life. I keep doing that.. reading people.. trying to picture life on a chessboard and trying to place people, situations in on it.. trying to see from up above.. trying to know why where what. 

I wish things were different. I wish my life was fuller, happier and greener. The plant of life has withered away.. no leaves no fruit just a dried bush it has become. (Too many metaphors?) This does not mean I don’t value what I have.. 

I want to be happy again. How did it feel? Do I remember? I hate it if/when someone calls me a pessimist.. I think I'm not, but I won't plead my case.. I have been told it is important to do it..so i am trying these days.

Pessimist is one who can't see the greener pastures even if they are there; Optimist is one who thinks he is on the greenest patch, Realist is one who realises there are better grasslands when he misses softer grass and tries to do something to make better this one?; Dreamer the one who wants the perfect meadow, complete with the horse and the hound.. rain and the cloud..with a stream nearby and the gushing sound. I think Realistic and Dreamer have a purpose..the other two are pitiable but yes, they are happier. (btw what happens if you switch the analogies for the Pessimist and the Optimist above? They still fit perfectly don't they? Same difference.)

Is dreaming too bad? They say you should dream but when you do what happens? Nothing really, till you channel your dream into actions and conviction that it can be done. And even if it leaves you saddened, don't give up as long as the rein is in your hands cz dreaming is the next best thing to achieving. 

Most successful people are those who sell dreams, the most lauded bunch of words are those that motivate you to dream (remember, "I have a dream"- speech or "You can win"); the most enjoyable moments of our lives are when a dream comes true. However tiny-winy it maybe. Even if it’s of the same ilk as eating an icecream at midnight.

But let’s be honest, dreaming is dangerous too. 

 

no words

Little hands

Tender and soft

Her body fragile

Asking to be aloft

 

Her eyes shine

darkbrown like mine

Look up at me

talk silently

 

Tiny fingers

Slightly clutch

My finger, and I,

Love the touch

 

I leave the work

And lift her up

“My baby’”, i say

“I love you so much”

 

The baby had felt

this love before

unsaid, unspoken

even in the womb

But this was special

my eyes turned moist

my bundle of fulfilment

a lifetime's trust

March 2, 2009 

I met a month old baby today. She is my friend's niece. (it's her pic) It felt as if this child was magical. She is beautiful. Coincidently when going about my documents folder i stumbled upon this poem i had written long time back. Reproduced above.