Saturday, December 29, 2018

हम

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

Friday, December 14, 2018

Twisted Sense of Manhood 2

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

Pencil

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

Thursday, December 13, 2018

Woh baat kaha

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?

Tuesday, November 27, 2018

Tadap

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।

Saturday, November 24, 2018

Spoils of War

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.

Thursday, November 15, 2018

गुमशुदा

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।