Imagination on Canvas

Taking a dip in vibrant colours,
From red to blue, and white to grey;
Dabbing it with the scent of flowers,
Roses, lilies and the mother of pearl;
Spreading its wings far and wide,
My imagination takes on its flight.

Paints the canvas by splashing colour,
Radiant hues to brighten the sombre;
Adding sparkle to the dull reality,
Creating positivity that had eroded;
Moulding a nuevo world,
When the old one had folded. 

फूलों का वजूद

फूल तू चाहता है
हर रंग के ,
अपना पिटारा भरना चाहता है
उनकी सुगन्ध से ,
अपनी सेज सजाना चाहता है
उनकी मुलैयिमियत से ,
अपने गले का हार महकाना चाहता है
उनके यौवन से ,
अपने थाल सजाना चाहता है
उनकी शीतलता से  …

इतनी बेदर्दी से
उनका इस्तेमाल तू करता है ,
अपने पैरों तले उनके वजूद को रौंद कर
आगे तू बढ़ जाता है  …

इस सब के बाद अगर
वही फूल तोड़ते वक़्त ,
एक कांटा तुझे चुभ जाये ,
तो दर्द से तू कराहता है  …

कितना ख़ुदग़र्ज़ है तू ऐ इंसान ,
कभी उन फूलों का दर्द बांट कर तो देख  …
कराहने से पहले ,
उन बेजुबानों की चीख़ सुन कर तो देख  …
आंसू टपकाने से पहले ,
ज़ुल्म सहते उनके दिलों के दर्द को टटोल कर तो देख  …

किसी के वजूद को मिटाने से पहले ,
तेरा हश्र क्या होगा ,
यह सोच कर तो देख  …
मिट्टी से उपजा है ,
मिट्टी में मिल जाना है ,
उसी मिट्टी की उपज को उखाड़ने तू चला है  …
अपना हक़ समझ कर ,
उन मासूमों का हक़ मिटाने तू चला है   …

Sayonara

I knew it had to come,
Was just there on the rung.
Then why these feelings,
These emotions of sadness,
Was it under-preparedness,
Or enough is never enough?

Teary-eyed, with a heavy heart,
Bidding goodbye is not an easy task.

An amazing journey it has been,
Sharing our ways through thick and thin.
Landed there alone,
But going back with wonderful ties.
Can't thank you enough,
Each one of you has been so nice.

We might be far away by miles,
But distances can't change our ties;
Will stay connected in hearts and minds.

Thank you all for the lovely time,
Shine and prosper,
And keep up the smiles.

Goodbye is not the end,
Till we meet again - Sayonara!

Future and Past - Through Glass

A teller of future and past,
A piece of glass.

I hold it in my hand,
And it makes me reflect upon;
The path I tread,
The roads I walked,
The homes I adorned,
The hands I held,
And the love I spread.
Painting this picture of my past,
Its a reminiscence of what I was.

Another piece of glass,
I hold in the other hand;
And it makes me visualize,
The path that lies ahead,
The pitstops and pitfalls on the way,
The opportunities and threats at bay,
And the camaraderie that stays.
Crafting this picture of my future,
It opens wide horizons for me,
To step out and make my choice;
To pick up those pearls of future,
And straw them in the riviere of present;
Which would have another string,
When glanced through the mirror of past.

 

Get-Aways

She said thanks,
He was too busy to hear;
She said sorry,
He really didn't care.

She came in front,
He said you are blocking;
She turned away,
He said you didn't stop me.

She asked him out,
He said its always about you;
She sat with him at home,
He said its boring with you.

She asked him where he was,
He said he is not used to answering that;
She didn't ask when he went away again,
He said it was her ego playing that game.

She kept silent,
He said share problems that brew;
The moment she started,
He burst in anger and said 'screw you'.

And the cycle started again,
With 'thanks' and 'sorry',
And many more get-aways...