जब-जब सिर उठाया by सर्वेश्वर दयाल सक्सेना

 One of my fav poems : 




जब-जब सिर उठाया
अपनी चौखट से टकराया
मस्तक पर लगी चोट,
मन में उठी कचोट,
अपनी ही भूल पर मैं,
बार-बार पछताया.
जब-जब सिर उठाया
अपनी चौखट से टकराया.
दरवाज़े घट गए या
मैं ही बड़ा हो गया,
दर्द के क्षणों में कुछ
समझ नहीं पाया.
जब-जब सिर उठाया
अपनी चौखट से टकराया.
''शीश झुका आओ''बोला
बाहर का आसमान,
''शीश झुका आओ'' बोलीं
भीतर की दीवारें,
दोनों ने ही मुझे
छोटा करना चाहा,
बुरा किया मैंने जो
यह घर बनाया.
जब-जब सिर उठाया
अपनी चौखट से टकराया.

Thirst and Fire

The below poem is dedicated to the victims of somalia Drought and various terrorists groups acting against the aid. The head of the U.N. refugee agency said that drought-ridden Somalia is the "worst humanitarian disaster" in the world after meeting with refugees who endured unspeakable hardship to reach the world's largest refugee camp.Somalia's militant Islamist group al-Shabab has put a ban on foreign aid agencies, as the region is hit by its worst drought in 60 years.

Thirst and Fire

Rain rain , please visit us again.

Earth is thundering with the hollers of pain.

A drought and terrorism coalesced well.

Languishing humanity and life like hell.

The dearth of cultivated earth envenomed their sufferings.

Famished for food, deteriorated their pizzazz & offerings.

Rain rain , please visit us again.

Not in abundance but with little also we will live the same.

The tax on water and the echoing gun-fires.

Killing of elders and burying the impeccant desires.

The relief camps filled with desiccant sources.

The hindrances for social societies meager resources.

Rain rain , please visit us again.

Vultures are waiting and cattle are dying at each lane.

Lustrous Sun appears more like a red hot plate.

Broiling the poor and piercing them with a sharp blade.

Terrifying Famine and the fundamentalists.

Flunked topographers and diplomatic nutritionists.

All are responsible for the hue and cry.

Ten thousand died , many more are in queue but still let’s give it another try.

 

Silence Prevails,

Aditya Dogra

सन्नाटा

Sham ki nammi mein , kuch dhundle se akaash mein
Dhalta sa chal raha tha , roshne se pare mein
Mann mein naa thi koyi bhi jalti hui umang
Dabta jaa raha tha dhunno mein bajta ek mridang

Palko se bhojhal sa ho gaya tha woh ek sapna
Kabhi paraye bhi thee , aaj naa koyi hai apna
Uss kavi ki kalpana ki rakh ka dhua hai uth raha 
Jab bhi koyi pass aaya , dil mein ek bad-gumma sa hi raha

Naddi ki kal kal karti lehron ne jharokoo ko bhar sa diya tha
Srappit se jeevan ko uss ne ehsaano taale dab sa diya tha
Aansuyoon ko palko takke rondte hi jaa raha tha mein
Apne hi zameer mein jhank kar jhanjorta sa jaa raha tha mein 

Pyaasi dharti kar rahi thi malhar ka intezaar
Doobte chand ko phir se ek subha ki ragni par tha aitbaar
Ruh mein sakoon ki talash thee 

Jab mere samne apni hi lashe thee

Silence Prevails ,
Aditya deadpan

Bright Silences

Huge walls surrounding the prison of life.

Staring at them to break free for gleam light.

Scrubbing the old wounds to feel the new pain.

Searching the files and folders to find thee name.

Entangled in the conundrum of luxuries and miseries .

Bewildered in the array of emotions and mysteries.

Cleaning my mirror to clean my reflection.

Practicing more to attain the perfection.

Looking at the black clouds to shower the rain.

Waddling along the calf in the mud to share true nature again.

Flying high over the sea to find its end .

Closed thee eyes and let it swim along the winds .

Nothing is mine , not even thee body .

Using the cold chisel to sharpen my mind.

Dispersing the sequester serenity into the self.

Burning the gossamer web of thine in the fragrance of Buddha.

Illumination thyself with the difference of  'I' and  'I'.

One stands for the 'I'gnorance and the other doesn't  include any 'I'.

SELF ILLUMINATION

Silence Prevails,
Aditya Deadpan
The above note is basically written after I read the book "Man's Search For Meaning - by Viktor Frankl" . The Author ,a doctor by profession , in the book has penned down his experiences in a Nazi Concentration camp.
One of his experience in his own words :

" This young woman knew that she would die in the next few days. But when I talked to her she was cheerful in spite of this knowledge. "I am grateful that fate has hit me so hard," she told me. "In my former life I was spoiled and did not take spiritual accomplishments seriously." Pointing through the window of the hut, she said, "This tree here is the only friend I have in my loneliness." Through that window she could see just one branch of a chestnut tree, and on the branch were two blossoms. "I often talk to this tree," she said to me. I was startled and didn't quite know how to take her words. Was she delirious? Did she have occasional hallucinations? Anxiously I asked her if the tree replied. "Yes." What did it say to her? She answered, "It said to me, 'I am here — I am here — I am life, eternal life.'  "

Raat Yo Kahne Laga Mujse Gagan ka Chaand

A beautiful poem By Ramdhari Singh Dinkar

रात यों कहने लगा मुझसे गगन का चाँद,

आदमी भी क्या अनोखा जीव है ।

उलझनें अपनी बनाकर आप ही फँसता,

और फिर बेचैन हो जगता, न सोता है ।

जानता है तू कि मैं कितना पुराना हूँ?

मैं चुका हूँ देख मनु को जनमते-मरते ।

और लाखों बार तुझ-से पागलों को भी

चाँदनी में बैठ स्वप्नों पर सही करते।

आदमी का स्वप्न? है वह बुलबुला जल का

आज उठता और कल फिर फूट जाता है ।

किन्तु, फिर भी धन्य ठहरा आदमी ही तो

बुलबुलों से खेलता, कविता बनाता है ।

मैं न बोला किन्तु मेरी रागिनी बोली,

देख फिर से चाँद! मुझको जानता है तू?

स्वप्न मेरे बुलबुले हैं? है यही पानी,

आग को भी क्या नहीं पहचानता है तू?

मैं न वह जो स्वप्न पर केवल सही करते,

आग में उसको गला लोहा बनाता हूँ ।

और उस पर नींव रखता हूँ नये घर की,

इस तरह दीवार फौलादी उठाता हूँ ।

मनु नहीं, मनु-पुत्र है यह सामने, जिसकी

कल्पना की जीभ में भी धार होती है ।

वाण ही होते विचारों के नहीं केवल,

स्वप्न के भी हाथ में तलवार होती है।

स्वर्ग के सम्राट को जाकर खबर कर दे

रोज ही आकाश चढ़ते जा रहे हैं वे ।

रोकिये, जैसे बने इन स्वप्नवालों को,

स्वर्ग की ही ओर बढ़ते आ रहे हैं वे।

Cradles of imaginations

I am black so what's wrong with that
At least I can absorb all the pain and suffering
At least I can act to arrest everyone's sadness
If not everyone I can make some one happy

I am black so what's wrong with that
At least I won't let anything bad get past me
At least I can seize all the grief of the world
If not everyone I can make some one hopeful

I am black
I am so black that no sorrow coming my way will escape me
No pain can shake me any further
No suffering can make me sad any further
Instead I would want all the sufferings come to me
I would want everything bad happening to happen to me
At least I can take them all

 So that no one else has to suffer
So that no one has to feel the pain anymore
So that no one has to be sad anymore
Something has to burn to enlighten this place, why not me?
Someone has to suffer to make is beautiful place to be, why not me?
Someone has to sacrifice to make others happy, why not me?

 Why not me, when no one care about me
Why not me, when I am seen as useless
Why not me, when I am seen someone who can't contribute
Why not me, when I am seen as BLACK

By - Pushpam Singh 

      NITDGP:03-07

Travelling through a tunnel

A deep breathe or a sigh
The light is in the end and the depth is high
The more we analyze life and realtionships
the more the number of drips and trips
Nature is filled with lot of surreal stories
so why should we spend our life in worries
Enjoy her enigmatic smile in floating leaves and flowing winds
The calm water and noisy wind chimps
White snow on the peaks and running rabbits in the jungly bushes
Colorful rainbow and the vitality in the tiger's ambush
Sounds and silences of the deserts
Respiting the rambling of the Blizzards
Vagabondness of animals and the ossified nature of human
Vivacious of the springs and the vacousness of the new man
Green is the grass ,vast is the sky
The strictures are limitless and the conciousness is at high
Blossoming flowers and sheding leaves
Falling branches and burried trees
Nature is all filled with happiness and griefs ...


By : Aditya Dogra