सुनो?
यूं तो सन्नाटा है आज,
तुम्हारे मेरे दर्मियां,
मगर इन बेरोक हिचकियों को,
सुनो।
Category Archives: Poems
All the poems written by me…
बदलाव/Change
बदलाव तो आया है।
यह उम्र का पढ़ाव ही तो लाया है,
एक बदलाव तो आया है।
उड़ते रहने तलब थी, अब एक ठहराव सा आया है,
हो न हो, बदलाव तो आया है।
पहले फिजूल खर्ची, और “अब किसने किधर पैसा बचाया है?”,
यकीनन, बदलाव तो आया है।
किस लड़की से इश्क करें, और अब “किस लड़की को मां से मिलवाया है?”
जी बदलाव तो आया है।
घूमने जाना मतलब बियर ठंडी, और अब “Limca, eno, अन्य दवाइयां कौन लाया है?”
बदलाव तो आया है।
मेखाने जाना पहले, और अब आज दोस्तों ने चाय-पकोडों पर बुलाया है,
हम सब में यह बदलाव तो आया है।
बिन सर-पैर की बातें करना, और आज उन्हीं बातों ने याद करने पर हसाया है,
यह भी एक बदलाव तो आया है।
दुनिया बेहद हसीन थी, पर दुनियादारी ने बहुत कुछ सिखाया है,
खुद में एक बदलाव तो आया है।
बदलाव ही तो एक मात्र स्थिरता है, यह भी तो उसी ने सिखलाया है,
यही तो उसकी माया है!
सोच का यह बदलाव, बदलाव ही तो लाया है!
– प्रभास बाहुबली तिवारी।
Lifaafa
Garmiyon ki chutti pe nani ke ghar jana,
Der-sawer uthna, aur uthtey hi alloo paranthey khana.
Dino din masti karke, jab apne ghar janey par ansu tapkana,
Annt mein nanaji ka diya lifaafa hi toh kamaal dikhata.
Idhar garmiyan khatm hui hi hoti, aur fir janmdin ajana,
Papa mummy se mehenge se mehenga tohfa farmana,
Aur chunki pados ki aunty tohfa lana bhul gayi uss din, unka woh ghabrana,
Annt mein ek rupaye wala woh lifaafa hi toh kamaal dikhata.
Chalte-chalte school khatm, ab toh college mein admission karwana,
Jahan tahan se rishtedaaron ke bhinn bhinn sujhaav aana,
Najaney kitne hi form raton raat bhar jana,
Annt mein form aur fees daak ghar bhejne lifaafa hi toh kamaal dikhata.
College ke dauraan der raat lautna, mummy papa ko satana,
Bahar se khakar ayenge, yehi batana bhool jana,
Aur dekhte hi dekhte naukri dhundhne Gurgaon ke chakkar lagana,
Annt mein, kayi dino ki nakami baad, “offer letter” likha lifaafa hi toh kamaal dikhata.
Dhool-paseena-mehnat ke baad ghar laut tey hi bina khaye sojana,
Fir agle sawere usi kaam pe lag jana,
Tender jeetne ke junoon mein khud ko hi bhulana,
Annt mein sarkari babu ki table pe lifaafa hi toh kamaal dikhata.
Umr chaahe jo bhi ho, zindagi ka padhaav mein koi fark na jhalkata,
Akhir sabki muskaan ka kaaran, lifaafa hi banjata!
Chaos
I hear the electricity passing through the wires, beneath all the cemented wall,
The ticks of the wall clock amplified, synchronized with my pounding heart.
Its one. Or probably two. The concept of time doesn’t make sense anymore, at all,
I’ve left this body in the hands of present, while pendulum-ing between future, and to where it did start.
There are questions. Tougher than the last time. There is grief. More hurting than the last time,
There are floods of emotions, and loss of soul, and anger and fury and so much more. Much more than the last time.
As the fingers move on to next word, poor keys on the board bear the burden of my pain,
My legs move slowly, or my head, is it my head that’s spinning faster than it should, I can not make the difference anymore.
Its numbness, overall, in general, all over, and confusion and chaos, being tied next to the barn, thinking about a grand escape from my slain, but in vain,
I rest here now, with palms folded, to whoever above listens. Give me reason to believe in you, damn you, give me reason to have faith furthermore.
There must be a reason, as a part of Your grand plan, they say. Oh now, but, is there?
Show some honour, show some respect. Show that you care, show that you hear. Show that there is love, show that it wins. Show me why you messed up, how things from here would spin!
Last mile
Standing there, right there, in front of me,
In front of me, in that crowded hall, that’s when I first saw you.
Oblivious to my presence, you kept mumbling,
Mumbling a song, and tunes, when you’d forget the words and added new.
You tried to look sharp, oh but I could see,
I could see how you fought the sweat, and the nervousness, yet looked pretty, oh! What a view!
Two summers, two winters, and in between twice of each seasons have passed,
Twice of each seasons have passed, over 700 days have gone by, but how did we happen? I’ve got no clue.
It is not a story written in the heavens but on this very Earth,
On this very Earth, where the platter of our being is garnished by thorns, we less knew.
I am sure, oh yes I am sure, I tell you my pretty soul, there’s more,
There’s more, to this story, more to us, more left in us to fight for the stories we drew.
One last lap, left to run together, hold my hands,
Hold my hands, let’s walk that last mile, ’cause the ones up above know, I love you too.