Ladybug

One fine evening, strolling through grass,
Sweaty and tired my feet, I paused to rest.
Stretching my legs upon grass,
I looked up horizon,
to the swarms of birds,
to the train whistling in distance,
to the cars honking,
to the kids playing,
lonely people, walking, with earplugs,
calming, soothing, stirring.

Suddenly, my hand crept.
A creepy crawler was the guest.
Small and oval
and red with black polka dots.
My mind raced back to years, when I had her.

Was her first day of college, I was sophomore.
Shy, yet radiant;
Calm, yet curious.
Notes were exchanged, so were the eyes.
Sitting long hours in park was our time.

One day, she lifted a ladybug, from the grass.
and put it on my skin, I crept,startled.
She was laughing, I was embarrassed.

Days,weeks,months, flew away and away.
Just like the little ladybug.

It was my last day, in college,
and in my hands, tickets were flapping
to a far off university.
I had to go.
Leave her, here.
The park,the college,the ladybug.
She was ears, 
She was tears.
Me standing, holding silence in my eyes.
I left without saying anything.

Suddenly a gentle tap on the shoulder
brought me back to the present.
'Hey, you found a ladybug. Aren't they cute?'
'Yes, they are. Now lets go home,
Millie will be waiting.'
She is still radiant. 

Dear Diary#2 History Tour- Seeing Delhi in Rainbow

11th March was the day chosen for the 'History Tour', organized by none other than Dr. Manish Karmwar Sir (History Dept.). I was just passing by the notice board, when my eyes caught the notice of the trip. I contacted sir as soon as I could. And then the day arrived.

We were to report in college by 8:30 A.M, and after collecting in the bus, we were briefed by Sir, as what this trip is going to be about. A 

journey through various heritage sites, preserving within them years of history and architectural marvels. And so, everyone was quite excited about what the day was about to unfold in front of us. The first stop was the famed Shanti Van.

The landscape was identical to the Windows XP wallpaper, and the ambiance was too calm to easily get mesmerized. A walk to the inner part was all too exciting. Various Engraved stones, informing us about the complex and its constituents and their history. A further expedition brought us to a lake, where a family of swans was baking in the sun. After chasing them down to quite further, we returned to the gate, but not before sir told us to observe the swans, and how swimmers use the techniques of these birds for better swimming. Sure we have to observe nature on a history trip. Thus ended the first step of our journey.

Next stop was the Kotla Firoz Shah (not the stadium!!!). The Feroz Shah Kotla was a fortress built by Sultan Feroz Shah Tughlaq to house his version of Delhi city called Ferozabad. A pristine polished sandstone pillar from the 3rd. century B.C. rises from the palace's crumbling remains. This Mughal structure, spread in a vast area was no less of a marvel, albeit less popular. Most of the structure was in ruins. Only 2 structures were still in a healthy shape, a mosque, and the sky-high inscribed Ashoka Pillar, brought from Punjab and installed here. Several small rooms underneath and surrounding it is used for worshiping spirits.

Next in line was again a garden. But not just any garden, something having bearing royal footsteps. So there we were, standing inside Lodhi Garden! 

Lodhi Gardens is a city park situated in New Delhi, India. Spread over 90 acres it contains, Mohammed Shah's Tomb, Tomb of Sikandar Lodi, Shisha Gumbad and Bara Gumbad, architectural works of the 15th century by Lodhis. 

The inner chamber of these domes was engraved, but contains lots of empty pockets. Sir explained how there were used to be gems, but was looted by the following dynasties. The garden was quite dense; having lot of corners where one would advise you not to go. The garden too had a lake, but unfortunately without any bird, as the water was much dirty. 

By this time, everyone was quite tired, but everyone rejoiced when the name of last landmark was announced. We were about to see one of Delhi's most renowned historical structure- The Humayun's Tomb. 

As the name suggests, it contains the tomb of Mughal king Humanyun, and various others. It was the first garden-tomb on the Indian subcontinent. It was also the first structure to use red sandstone at such a scale. The grand door leading to the pathway to the main tomb was quite a marvel. But the main tomb was something far greater. The grand structure was breath-taking. Various minarets surrounding it, the dome-shaped top and giant doorways, all lead to the magnificence of the structure. The inside chamber of the tomb was designed with white marble, and was painted with fine handmanship. And the reader will be further pleased when I will add the detail, that at this time, a drizzle began. To see the tomb in the rain was to experience the beauty and sanctity of the tomb in another dimension altogether. 

When we were on the premises, a question was well raised by one of the fellow student, that the structures we visited today, especially the tomb, was built by people who wanted to be remembered. But weren't these a big waste of money, and land and labor, when we can build something useful for the common masses? To these, the sir replied-

"You are correct in one way. But the way I see it, all of these are necessary. What is a country without history, and what is history? The record of the cultural transformation of a country. And this culture is what depicted in these monuments. Today, after hundreds of year we stand here, we cannot help but feel what it was like in those dynasties, those times. They give us identity, a national one. They complete our emotional need to escape into the history, and relive it. And thus they are important."

And this ended our journey. On our way back, when the rain stopped, and the sun shone through clouds, far on the horizon was a rainbow. It felt like the rainbow was smiling upon us for this day, spent in the different era, and we couldn't help but sharing that smile on our faces as well. 

Ebony & Ivory

You think,I'm weak, helpless, gullible.

you assume I am worthless, mute, dumb.

That I am alone, in a blind alley, waiting

for a piece of hope, ray of delight;mere

wanderer, that you can conquer, or capture

with your heartless actions and pitiful words.

That you can decide, what is best for me; Don't.

Tired am I, far much tired, sulking in, numb

with pain, you don't know me, so don't pretend.

This world wasn't created by you,So don't 

try to destroy it. Don't draw unnecessary lines,

over the dead bodies of unfortunates; Enough,Don't.

System,law,order is what you protect. I am not

outside of it, you have to extend,include me. Rather

you create ebony and ivory, everywhere, every time.

Silence, to you; silence to them; silence to all

or let us speak in one tone. Interrupt us, Don't.

Out with contempt, Out with conjured rules, out.

Don't wage war, if you ain't ready for outcome.

In a war, no one wins; humanity loses always but.

We won't let it happen, we are the future, from 

the past. Weapons we will bear, steel less, verbal, now. 

I've said enough,I've had enough. Enough sufferings

for a lifetime. Marxist I may not be, hardly I

understand these big words, but I know something,

that these humans, you are seeing, are and will be

here, for them, for you, for us, for all. 

वो......

सालो से खड़ा हैं,उस गली के मोड़ पर,
बोला नही हैं अब तक… 
बस देखता रहता है…। 
उधर से गुज़रते लोगो को,
सुनता रहता हैं,उनकी बातो को॥ 

जाने क्या-क्या सुना होगा??
पर खड़ा हैं आज भी तनकर। 
जैसे खुद आज भी श्रेष्ठ हैं 
मुझसे,तुमसे और हम सबसे ॥ 

याद नही,गर झुका हो कभी,
बस बारिश में झूमते देखा हैं। 
ललक सी  आसमां को छूने की 
पर  पाँव अब भी जमीन पर है॥ 

जानता हैं जैसे सबको,
सो ताल्लुक बढ़ाता  नही किसी से । 
बच्चो के साथ देखा हैं खेलते,
तो  कभी पथिक को पंखा झलते॥ 

कुछ ऐसा ही हैं .... सालो से खड़ा 
उस गली के मोड़ पर... वोह कदम्ब का पेड़ ॥ 

मेरी दिल्ली

बरसो बाद मुझे मेरी दिल्ली
महफ़ूज़ लगी। .......
भरे भेडियो के बीच ,में एक नन्ही सी जान
बेख़ौफ़ लगी॥
बरसो बाद.....
हज़ारो मशाले थी जनपथ पर
प्रतिशोध की,न्याय की
इंडिया की मशाल, अमन -ओ-चैन की
बड़ी अच्छी लगी ॥
बरसो बाद…
अनशन पर बैठे लोग,

दिनों-दिन गंवाए
एक भूखे  को मिली रोटी 
दिल को रहत मिली ॥
बरसो बाद। …।
आँखों का पानी जहा सूख ही चूका था,
दामिनी की पुकार पर,
कुछ आँखों में नमी दिखी ,
बरसो बाद......
कभी बुरका,कभी घाघरा,
तो कभी जीन्स टॉप में दिखी ।
आँचल में गरिमा-इतिहास समेटे,

एक नारी का सा ही रूप लगी ॥
बरसो बाद मुझे मेरी दिल्ली,
मेरी सी लगी ।
बढ़ती,सिमटती, आब सी ढलती
मेरा अपना ही रूप लगी ॥ 

अच्छी लगी

खिड़की से झांकती

वो बारिश की बौछार 
शहरी मकानो में 
दादी की खाट 

अच्छी लगी.…!!!!! 

महंगाई के दौर में 
माँ की दांत, बड़ी सस्ती थी 
मतलब के इस जहाँ में 
दोस्त की फटकार 
अच्छी लगी.…!!!!!

एक बेबस को दिए 
जोह कुछ कदमो का साथ 
दुआओ से भरे हाथ 

अच्छी लगी.…!!!!! 




भूखे  बच्चे को जब दी थी रोटी 
वो तृप्त सी मुस्कान अच्छी लगी 
एक मजनू को मेरे 
प्रेम की तकरार 
अच्छी लगी.…!!!!!

ईद और दिवाली, मणि थी एक दिन 
जश्न की वह रात, बड़ी अच्छी लगी 
धर्म क नाम पर बने आडंबरों में
कबीर और रहीम की जाती,
अच्छी लगी.…!!!!!


शगुफ़्ते बच्चो की बात पर 
बस हंस दिए करती थी 
पर आसमां को आगोश में भरने की 
अच्छी लगी.…!!!!! 

Dear Diary #1 My Village, My Home

Sitting in my room, watching my favorite series on my laptop, I was oblivious of everything around me. The random disturbance of the flies were the only distraction. You must be guessing that this quite mood setting is definitely going to lead somewhere disastrous or unexpected. Well you guessed right.

Enters my mom, a lady in her late forties. She blabbered something, because I had my headphones on. The only words I caught at first were, "Your grandmother.....above....have to go." That was strange. My grandmother was already dead 3 years ago. What is she talking about now? I removed my headphones, and stared her. She saw my face, and said,"I just received the phone call. She is dead." That's when it strike. My Real Grandmother was dead, the one who lives in my home-village. Well, LIVED. You must be wondering about two grandmothers. Well to summarize, My real grandmother gave my father to her sister, who was infertile. 

The arrangements were made. We were to leave for my village by 8 pm. Me,mom-dad and my brother, along with other relatives were en route to the village. My village, the one I hadn't seen in years, Nine to be precise.

The journey was a 120 km far. Until we were on the city road, everything was fine. Though it was mid December, the winters hadn't strike yet. so we were in our semi winter clothes. But as soon as we took the turn for our village road, MAN It was CHILLY... The open area on both sides, made the fog even more dense. And it was a nighttime too. The road was to be a 10 km long, and the night, the fog and the alone road was making us hallucinate. It was something you see in a horror film just before the appearance of a white walking ghost!!! The chants were on a leash. Suddenly a rabbit came in front of the car. A white one, and his ears were all the way pointy. It ran in front of our van for some 500 meters, like it came to welcome us. 

Anyways, we reached there by 11 pm. My cousin brother received us in front of his home. I took a look around. Everything was different in appearance, as I recalled from 9 years back. But then it is a long time too. We went inside. Voices of mourning was coming from a room, where the body of my grandmother was laid covered in whites. All the ladies went inside,and I along with my cousins stayed outside.We looked up to the sky. It was crystal clear. We all read about the village or the hills night sky, full of stars. It was there, in all its beauty. I know, you must be wondering Why I am writing about this, when my grandmother is laying dead inside. Well she died at 87 years of age, a pretty well. And died of natural cause, without any pain. So her death was not a subject of sadness to me. Besides I know I have to help in making arrangements for the funeral ceremony, So I cant cry or let myself sob. 

Our sleeping arrangements were made, and I was told to wake up at 6 am sharp. Not a biggie, as I was habitual to rise early. Next day, after all the arrangements (details I wont bore you with), we carried her to the burial place. The burial ceremony went good, but quite in a rush, according to me. Well maybe that's the way village people do. I was the last one to walk off the place. As I was walking, I turned around and saw her burning one last time, capturing that moment both in my heart, and my mobile (Techno-savvy I am).

We were to leave by the evening, and come back again on Sunday, for the Tehrvi, a feast organized in the memory of the deceased one. So till the evening, I was free to roam around. I went up to the roof. All was quite and peaceful. I also wandered in the streets. The houses, all left alone, and build probably 100-200 years back. I am sure the ASI will be happy to dig up these places for excavation. This was something, something connecting me to the village. I was hoping to see my village for such a long time, and today finally got the chance. These streets, these houses, all was a link to the past, the peaceful one. No words are there to describe the scenic beauty. I know, if you all visited these places, the first thing you will complaint about is filth;Not the city plastic waste, but of village's cow dung. Well that's the way it is, what can I do.

The noon passed too, and we climbed up the van. Though I knew I was coming just two days after too, but this moment, this aura in the air of my grandmother, still blessing me, will be over by then. I wanted to absorb it as much as I can. I took one last good look at the door, and with the start of the engine, I bid the house of my grandmother, because next time, It won't be the house of my grandmother, but my cousin, and just my village home, 'cause I was taking my grandmother with me, in my heart, forever.