ज़िन्दगी के बिखरते पन्ने

क्या है ना,

ज़िन्दगी के पन्ने कितना भी समेट लो,

तेज हवा का झोंका चलते रहता है।

धन्य है इंसान जैसे जीव का,

जो अपने आखिरी दम तक पन्ने समेटता रहता है।

यह जानते हुए, की हवा का झोंका और तेज होना है।

 

 

The Workers!

I always wonder when I see tall hi-tech buildings, hotels getting build up.

About the workers,
Who are adding their blood and sweat,
To build such beautiful buildings.

Will they be allowed to enter into the premises,
Of the these buildings,
Once they get completed,
To see their art and labor?

They still live in jhuggis with tin roofs,
They still make thier food on woods,
They still eat cheap foods,
They still suffer and can't fulfill the wish of thier wives and children.

Though they make apartments,
laced with hitech equipment,
Beautiful gardens,
Beautiful kitchens,
big blue swimming pools,
Fulfilling the dreams of rich!

Tajmahal was build in twenty years.
And hands of the workers and artists were chopped off.
They knew it and left a loophole in it,
Which can't be repaired today!

Eid Mubarkbad

Day looks new,

Refreshing, green and clean.

Streets are empty,

Offices are closed,

Schools shut,

Parks are full,

Full of kids.

Sky is clear,

But sun is invisible,

But lights are there.

May be he is busy,

Busy in some preparations,

Preparations to welcome Moon.

Trees are looking green

And extra clean.

Guavas are ripening,

And some had turned white.

Yellows are falling on the ground,

And the seeds are spread,

All around the fruit.

Small colorful birds are jumping,

Jumping in the happiness,

And excitements,

From one branch to the other.

Mynahs are gathering,

As if today is their holiday.

The crows are speaking,

But in lower tone today.

They are on leave,

Off teasing other birds.

The wind is absent,

As if it’s helping the Sun,

In the preparations,

Preparations to welcome Moon.

Mosques are full,

Full of kids,

Full of white kurta and pajamas,

And round caps,

Caps are carved with many designs.

A wind takes a break,

And come down to the Earth.

To shook the trees,

To feed us some fresh oxygen.

Everybody and everything on earth,

Are preparing to end Ramzan.

Netaon se, hamari hai darkhwast,

Karde hame Azad.

Eid Mubarkbad!

Love in the Cinema

Your eyes, glittering and wandering,
Looked into mine.
The reflected lights from the screen,
Made your eyes, visible to mine.

Your hair; long and black,
Trying to hide your eyes,
Glittering and wandering.
Instead, they make your eyes,
Look more and more beautiful.

You’re beautiful, I say.
But, the cinema sound,
Big and noisy,
Stops my words,
From reaching into your ears.

You turn and face me,
To hear what I’ve just said.
You move your head so ears,
Closer to my lips,
So that my words can reach you.

I turn to repeat my words,
My lips move,
Your ear moves,
Closer to your ears.

Your lips deceives your ears,
And stops,
At mine and say,
Don’t move, let me kiss.

Smell of The Burning Milk

Unlike every morning I skipped jogging,
the reason is very simple.
My papers are about to begin,
So I need to study and I'm doing it.


After finishing my shower,
Jumped to study table to flip the book's cover.
But I started texting with my girlfriend,
(I've a girlfriend too!)


After texting for some time,
She asked me to call her,
But we started fighting after some time,
I didn't want to talk for long, 
As my phone balance was about to sing a song.


I was already getting roasted with the words like data, chips, ICs and all,
I looked out of window thanking her for disconnecting the call.
Switching fan off I came out of my room,
I could see outside weather bloom.


The sky was clear as the sun was glowing,
I could see the the leaves of the trees moving,
the moving leaves were proving,
the presence of the wind blowing.


But the clouds had started crossing the nearby mall,
I could see a small kid plying with a tennis ball.
The chirping of the birds were audible,
A walking cow looking for some food was visible.


The street road was calm and peaceful,
I started feeling the atmosphere cheerful.
I wanted to stand in balcony for long,
But something went wrong.


The smell of the burning milk forced me to get in,
I wanted to switch the gas off to set the milk in,
But I didn't do.


The smell was sweet and awesome,
It was reminding for some special one,
and the childhood days in my village,
To me later, that seemed like a cage.


Where my mom used to boil milk for long,
As my cows used to give light and thin milk,
I loved "that" smell of the burning milk,
I love the smell of the burning milk.
I love the smell of the burning milk.