बूंद बूंद पानी को तरस गए है हम
बेपरवाह रोड़े गए वो नदी है हम
एक उजड़ी बस्ती का घर के हम
वीराने में खड़े अकेले हैं अब हम
न किसी का रूह न किसी की परछाई है हम
बस एक टूटे सपने का सारांश है हम
I write poems on topics that move me in Hindi and in English. You may also find a few sketches which I try to sometimes draw for fun's sake (I am no good).
बूंद बूंद पानी को तरस गए है हम
बेपरवाह रोड़े गए वो नदी है हम
एक उजड़ी बस्ती का घर के हम
वीराने में खड़े अकेले हैं अब हम
न किसी का रूह न किसी की परछाई है हम
बस एक टूटे सपने का सारांश है हम
All the candle marches
All the night vigils
All the solidarity
All the fights against hipocracy
What was all that for?
Laws were made laws were kept
Women are still a commodity on the bed
Leaders have come, leaders have changed
Women will be safe, Safety never came.
What was all that for?
The khaps still have a last say
Those fathers still have a last say
Men are in wait for their next prey
Ripping and tearing, night or day.
What was all that for?
Love is still a crime
A crime paid for by rape
Rape has always been a crime
But the rule of Men is above the law they say
What was all that for?
We've marched, we've fought, we have raised our voice
We've cried, we've suffered, was it our choice?
Yet -
We were strong but out numbered, we held our poise
We persisted and held our fort, but our bodies next day - everytime you find
What was all that for?
हम ही आलम हम ही खुदा हैं
नियम और कानून, आगे हमारे सर झुकाए खड़ा है
हम हैं तो तुम्हारा वजूद है
हम न हो तोह तुम्हारा कौन है
Was it for all this?
It's a patriarchial society, with a twisted sense of manhood
Cops are men who subject us to degradation
We are blamed for something that was never our fault to begin with
Yet none ever come to trail and rarely see the noose
Twisted sense of manhood - they live out like rabbid dogs on the loose
Reign them in and execute them scoundrels
But when the Alpa himself is Rabbid
How then will the pack ever come to justice
Credits: Line picked up from a song by Indian Ocean
I love writing with a pencil
It has a very raw feel to it
A sense of nostalgia
A sense of longing
I love the sound of scribbling
It takes me back to the old days
Days of loaded bags
Weeks of pending homework
I love the sight of graphite on virgin paper
Splattered across like art in progress
A pencil borrowed, lost mine
Takes you back into a treasured time
Scribbling on with a blunt nib
Incoherent yet making complete sense
I love writing with a pencil
It is an artifact which helps create history
तारे भी आये है और रात भी जवान है
पर चाँद के बिना वो बात कहा
हँसी भी है और हसीना भी
पर तेरे बिना वो बात कहा
मदिरा भी हैं मधुशाला मैं हम
पर यार बिना वो बात कहा
तकिया भी है और रजाई भी
पर तेरे सीने से लपटने की वो बात कहा
ख़ुशी तोह है और मुस्कान भी
पर तेरे बिना उसकी बात कहा?
Mohabbat karke bhi dekha hai
Toota hua Dil bhi dekha hai
Mohabatt ko kisi aur ka hote bhi dekha hai
Khud ko gam main doobne se bhi roka hai
Dil pe marham lagte bhi dekha hai
Usi marham ko ghav ghera karte bhi dekha hai
Dekha toh sab kuch tha ab tak sahib
Par apni rooh ko kisi aur ki hone ka Drishya,
Yeh tadap aaj pehli Baar dekha hai.
In Hindi
मोहब्बत करके भी देख लिया
टूटा दिल भी देख लिया
मोहब्बत को किसी और का होते भी देख लिया
खुद को गम मे डूबने से भी रोक लिया
दिल पे मरहम लगते भी देखा है
उसी मरहम को घाव घेरा करते भी देखा है
देखा तोह सब कुछ था अब तक साहिब
पर अपने रूह को किसी और की होने का दृश्य,
यह तड़प आज पहली बार देखा है।
We've been the spoils of war for both the victor and the vanquished
A trophy that was discarded once a purpose was fulfilled
We've been the spoils of war in the old days and the new
A medium for vengeance - exploited and lived only a few.
Should have witnessed the men as they marched into our lands
Sparing none of us - we were cattle in the slaughter stands
Should have witnessed them men transform into beasts
Marching on forward gloating over their feats
Did Jinnah pause for a second to ponder over the loss
Did Nehru fear for his brethren and the impending loss
War Medals we were, with no place to call home
Then came the government to call us back home
Caged like a bird, with wings clipped off
With litter of our own - here the buck stopped
Where were they when Bauji was beheaded
Where were they when I was dragged naked?
Where were you all, you leaders of our nation?
Where were you all, when your daughters were getting beaten?
The ones who went back were snubbed by their own
Those left behind had no where else to go.
We are the spoils of war and we will be the death of you all.
पन्नो में कई शब्द कुछ ऐसे खो जाते है
की पन्नो को खुद इसका एहसास नही रहता
वह तोह बस कागज़ पे छपी उस लेखक की यादे है
जो इन्हें पड़ने वाले अनुभव करते है।