Guru Surdas
Accounts he used to teach us
Guruji was surdas
He had everything
Memorized by heart
Did not know that
He had a flair for poetry
Guruji was quite colorful
One day the tuition
Was halted midway
Guruji commanded
Everyone to be silent
On the radio
In the vigorous voice
Of Balkavi Bairagi
Listening to the song
Guruji got
Goosebumps
From that day on
We didn't study any more.
Father
Since I gained consciousness
I saw Father
Entangled in books and papers
Sitting for hours, writing continuously,
I found out that
Father was a poet
A poet friend of Bal Swaroop Rahi
In one of his old diaries
I read some of his songs
One refrain of his song
I still remember
"I sing the songs of love,
Therefore, my youth is mine
I smile even in sorrow,
Therefore, my flow is mine."
Indeed
Reading his songs
Inspired me to write
Poems too,
But later he stopped
Writing poems
Due to the responsibility of building a house
And filling
Family expenses
Earning a few pennies
Doing various kinds of writing
And kept puffing cigarette after cigarette
Betel leaf with tobacco and cigarettes,
Father struggled
All his life
Won every battle against life
But couldn't bear the strike of Corona
And lost to life,
Fell into a deep sleep
I was sitting thousands of miles away
Regretfully
Couldn't join his final journey,
Due to Corona
Not just me, no one
Could join his final journey
Just like he fought
The battles of life alone
He fought
Death alone too,
Only my younger brother
Performed his last rites
With the help of a funeral agency.
Train to Heaven
- "Brother, where is this train going?"
- "Where do you want to go?"
- "I..I..I want to go to Heaven."
- "The train to Heaven will leave on next Sunday, this train is going to Hell."
"Oh .., next Sunday...by then it will be too late."
- "Then board in it and change the train to heaven from there."
- "Yes, it will be fine" - saying this the passenger stepped into the train and the train started moving as if it was waiting only for him.
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Vlak do Nebe
Journey of Love
That evening still haunts me,
Those moments still linger in my memory.
The times spent with you,
My hand wasn't in yours,
Nor were your arms around my neck,
But love-filled breaths,
Had dissolved in the air,
Your fragrance scattered everywhere,
I was immersed in that scent,
Our journey of a few moments,
If only, yes if only,
This journey never ended,
I can't believe it,
Perhaps you don't either,
Even though we parted, we're not apart,
And my soul still,
Remains in that journey,
Are you still with me,
In this journey?
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Cesta lásky
Colour of Love
Just now, I thought of you
And
As I thought of you,
The color of love began to dissolve
In the atmosphere,
Stars started twinkling,
The river began to hum,
Dancing flowers
Unveiled the veils of buds,
Drenched in the drops of dew
All night long,
Scattered on the moonlit blanket
Are night blooming jasmine flowers,
Upon those flowers whispers
Your enchanting form,
Like a verse of a poet,
When your laughter sparkled,
Your tinkling laughter
Awakened stones asleep for centuries,
And those stones burst forth
With streams of love,
Those waters of love
To bathe in,
See, my beloved!
How stirred up
Our love is.
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Barva lásky
Lambretta Scooter
My uncle had a red Lambretta
Scooter, which could start
Without a key, on
which I would become
Smart whenever he came to our house,
I used to ride his scooter, it had
Petrol, in those days it used to cost
Seven rupees a liter
And used to roam on
Empty roads, for about half an
Hour, Tau ji would be getting
Angry at home, but I knew that he would
Not forget the secret of his happiness.
I would bring a pair of
Banarasi paan of number 120. I would
Be happy after getting the paan.
Tau ji would scold me lovingly.
Šachy
Gayatri mantra
Milostná báseň
Chunni Lal, the Kite Seller
At the corner of
Arya Samaj Street
There was a small shop
Of Chunni Lal, the kite seller
Where almost every evening
I used to go
To buy kites and string
There was often a crowd
At his shop
Colorful spools of string
Were displayed
In his shop
Chunni Lal didn't use a yardstick
But his hands
To measure the string
Chunni Lal used to do.
Echoing in the ears
Were mixed voices
Chunni... two annas' worth of red string
Chunni... four annas' worth of green string
Chunni... eight annas' worth of yellow string
Four annas' worth of string
He wound around the thumb and pinky finger
Of his left hand
His hand spun swiftly
Like Shiva's drum
And then, according to the cost
Of two annas, four annas, and eight annas
His hand would suddenly stop,
I bought a lot of string from Chunni Lal
But to this day, I have not understood
His standard of measuring string.
84 bells temple
Katra Gokul Shah,
Just in front of
Bazaar Sita Ram,
The ancient
84- bells temple
Is still present.
The sound of its 84 bells
Even today
It still echoes
In my ears.
The symbol of 84 lakh births,
The skill of playing
These 84 bells
All together,
Not everyone knows how to do it.
During The Evening
Aarti,
The Continuous Ringing Of These 84 Bells,
Listening To The Music Of These Bells
The Evening Embraces
The Night Layer By Layer
The Night Unfolds
One Bell
And
1 Lakh Lifetimes
84 Bells
And
84 Lakh Lifetimes
Only A Human
Can Journey Through
84 Lakh Lifetimes
Ringing
84 Bells Together,
Convincing Themselves
Denying The Mirrors
Wearing Masks
84 Bells
Ringing Together.
Gayatri Mantra
I still remember
My first day
In Andhra School
In first class
The principal
Came to the class and asked -
'Who knows Gayatri Mantra?'
The whole class was silent but
I raised my hand,
Then stood up and
Recited Gayatri Mantra to everyone.
Everyone clapped,
It's music is still
Fresh in the ears.
ये ज़ुल्फ़ अगर खुल के बिखर जाए तो अच्छा
इस रात की तक़दीर सँवर जाए तो अच्छा"
221-1221-1221-122
मफ़ऊल - मफ़ाईल - मफ़ाईल - फ़ऊलुन
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
दिल चीज़ क्या है आप मेरी जान लीजिए
बस एक बार मेरा कहा मान लीजिए
मफ़ऊल- फ़ाइलात- मुफ़ाईल- फायलुन
221-2121-1221-212
उनके ख्याल आये तो आते चले गए
यूँ हसरतों के दाग़ मुहब्बत ने धो दिए
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ख़ुदा तक जाएगा झगड़ा हमारा
Masala Dosa
About 60 years ago
From today
It was not easy
To find masala dosa in Delhi,
But
In the canteen
Of my Andhra school
South Indian dishes were available
Masala dosa, idli-vada
Upma, chana vada
Coconut chutney
And
Sambar,
I used to eat them
To my heart's content
Especially chana vada
I liked it a lot
At that time I didn't know
That in life someday
I would have to go and live
In South India
And often
Have to eat masala dosa
There I saw
How interesting it is
To make masala dosa
With the same broom of sticks
It used to get cleaned
The griddle of masala dosa
With which we clean
The courtyard of the house.
Army Tank
At Andhra School, of Delhi,
Behind its farthest ground stood
An old iron army tank,
On which I sat,
Feeling profound.
I imagined myself a commander,
To join the army school,
I studied hard
Passed the written exam
With ease,
But the interview
I failed.
Gaining admission in Army School
Wasn't a simple feat,
Though being a commander wasn't to be,
I still marched
In the school's parade,
On January 26, 1973.
That day remains a vivid tale,
In my memory,
It will never pale.
पतंग के कन्ने
मैं रोज़ जाता था स्कूल
और
वह नहीं जाता था स्कूल
बस रहता था
सरे दिन घर में
लेकिन था उस्ताद
पतंग के कन्ने बाँधने में
और
काग़ज़ पर
तस्वीर बनाने में
मुझे बहुत भाती थी
उसकी तस्वीरें ,
लेकिन पतंग के
कन्ने बंधवाने के लिए तो
मुझे करनी पड़ती थी
उसकी चिरौरी
और बिना कन्ने बाँधे
संभव नहीं था पतंग उड़ाना
क्योंकि कन्नों का
सही अनुपात में बंधा होना
होता है बहुत ज़रूरी
किसी भी पतंग की
सही उड़ान के लिए।
कवि - इन्दुकांत आंगिरस
सीढ़ियों का संगीत
आज
एक क़दम सीढ़ी चढ़ता हूँ
तो दिल दरक जाता है
एक ज़माना था जब मैं
अपने तिमंज़ले मकान की
५२ सीढ़ियाँ
५२ सेकण्ड्स से कम समय में
चढ़ जाता था
और
उन्हीं सीढ़ियों से उतरने में
लगता था पहले से भी कम वक़्त
ज़िंदगी में
कितनी ही सीढ़ियों पर
चढ़ा , उतरा
लेकिन उन ५२ सीढ़ियों पर
चढ़ते - उतरते
मेरे नन्हें पैरों की
थाप का संगीत
जितना कर्णप्रिय
और लयात्मक था
वैसा नहीं सुना कभी।
कवि - इन्दुकांत आंगिरस
My Grandfather
In Delhi,
The first lathe machine installer,
Lala Jaydayal, my grandfather,
Had a factory at Ajmeri Gate.
Counted among Delhi's elites,
in 1940, he owned
A horse carriage and a motor car.
The family went on outings to India Gate.
Now, bankrupt,
Residing in a makeshift attic,
I fetched cold water
From the neighborhood well for him.
His story was full of pain.
Even now, sometimes,
He donned his staff and hat,
Ventured to the market,
And brought back dates.
No one called him ‘Sir’ anymore.
The shops at Hauz Qazi sold off,
The factory gone,
Grandfather had forgotten to smile.
I still wonder
How a Delhi aristocrat
Became obscure.
Now, no one remembers his name.
गाजर का हलुआ
दिल्ली कि सर्दियों में
अक्सर बनाती थी मेरी नानी
गाजर का हलुआ
घिसनी पड़ती थी हमें
बहुत साड़ी गाजरें
फिर लगभग २- ३ घंटों तक
पकाया जाता था हलुआ
अंगीठी की धीमी आँच में
और फिर
मिलता था खाने को
गरम गरम गाजर का हलुआ
एक निश्चित मिकदाऱ में
रोज़ नाश्ते में मिलता था
गाजर का हलुआ
पर नियत नहीं भरती थी ,
नानी अक्सर किस बड़े पात्र में
हलुआ छापा कर रख देती थी
और दोपहर में
जब सो जाती थी नानी
मैं अक्सर ढूँढ निकालता था
हलुए का वो पात्र
और इस सफाई से करता था साफ़
५०-१०० ग्राम हलुआ
कि नानी को पता न चले
लेकिन आज तक समझ नहीं पाया
कि नाश्ते मैं देते वक़्त हलुआ मुझे
क्यों धीरे से मुस्कुराती थी नानी ?
कवि - इन्दुकांत आंगिरस
ताँगा
घर से स्कूल तक का
ताँगे का सफ़र
होता था बहुत दिलचस्प
एक दिन मैं देर तलाक
खेलता रहा स्कूल में
तो छूट गया ताँगा
बहुत देर तक मायूस
खड़ा रहा था सड़क किनारे
फिर मांगी थी लिफ़्ट
एक साइकिल सवार अंकल से
उन्होंने बिठया था मुझे
साइकिल के सामने वाले डंडे पर
और सही सलामत छोड़ा था
मुझे तुर्कमान गेट तक
वह से पैदल लौट गया था अपने घर
उस दिन मेरी नानी ने
बहुत डांटा था मुझे
देर से घर पहुँचने के लिए
मैंने नहीं बताया उन्हें कि
छूट गया था मेरा ताँगा
बल्कि कह दिया था उन से कि
ताँगा आया देर से क्योंकि
घोड़े को था बुखार
अगले दिन मुझे
चढ़ गया था बुखार।
सीढ़ियों का संगीत
आज
एक क़दम सीढ़ी चढ़ता हूँ
तो दिल दरक जाता है
एक ज़माना था जब मैं
अपने तिमंज़ले मकान की
५२ सीढ़ियाँ
५२ सेकण्ड्स से कम समय में
चढ़ जाता था
और
उन्हीं सीढ़ियों से उतरने में
लगता था पहले से भी कम वक़्त
ज़िंदगी में
कितनी ही सीढ़ियों पर
चढ़ा , उतरा
लेकिन उन ५२ सीढ़ियों पर
चढ़ते - उतरते
मेरे नन्हें पैरों की
थाप का संगीत
जितना कर्णप्रिय
और लयात्मक था
वैसा नहीं सुना कभी।
कवि - इन्दुकांत आंगिरस
जल कुंड
कुछ याद नहीं ठीक से
कितना छोटा था मैं
लेकिन नई दिल्ली के
बिड़ला मंदिर में
उन संगमरमर के
छोटे - छोटे सफ़ेद हाथियों पर
बैठा था मैं
और
जक - कुंडों में
झलकती मेरी परछाई
इस श्वेत - श्याम
तस्वीर में
आज भी वैसी ही ताज़ा है।
पतंग
बहुत दिनों से
नहीं लिखी कोई कविता
बहुत दिनों से
मेरा मन नहीं रीता
आख़िर याद आ गयी
बचपन की एक शाम
था पतंगों से भरा आसमान
लेकिन मैं लेता था पलंग पर
लपेटे अपनी बाजू पर प्लास्टर
मेरी पतंग मेरे पलंग के नीचे
फड़फड़ा रही थी
आकाश में उड़ती
रंग - बिरंगी पतंगें
मुझे रह रह कर बुला रही थीं
एक पतंग उड़ रही थी आकाश में
और एक मेरे मन के भीतर ,
मैंने लेते लेते करवट ली
