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ज़लज़ला

ज़लज़ला

रह-रह कर तेरी यादों का
कोई सैलाब सा आता है
लाख बचाता हूँ खुद को
पर मुझे वो बहा ले जाता है

डुबो कर सिर से पांव मेरा
तुम बेपरवाह , वापस चली जाती हो
मैं जर्जर किसी मलबे सा खुद को 
जमीं पर बिखरा हुआ पाता हूँ

फिर अपनी टूटी हिम्मत जुटा के
मैं फिर वापस उठना चाहता हूँ
और तभी तुम्हारी यादों का फिर एक ज़लज़ला सा आता है
और मैं फिर मिट्टी की ढेर में बिखर जाता हूँ

तुम कहोगी “तुम खुद ही हो दोषी
ये तो मेरी खता नहीं है”
जानता हूँ, ये सच भी है, पर मैं क्या करूँ
कि खुद पर अब वश मेरा नहीं है

……अभय…..

 

 

वो रास्ता..

Credit: Internet

वो रास्ता..

सच्चाईयों से मुँह फेरकर,

मुझपर तुम हँसते गए

दल-दल राह चुनी तुमने, 

और गर्त तक धसते गए

खुद पर वश नहीं था तुम्हें ,

गैरों की प्रवाह में बहते गए

जाल बुनी थी मेरे लिए ही,

और खुद ही तुम फँसते गए

नमी सोखकर मेरे ही जमीं की,

गैरों की भूमि पर बरसते रहे

सतरंगी इंद्रधनुष कब खिले गगन में,

उस पल को अब हम तरसते रहे

……….अभय ………..

What is Life..

Representative image

Hello Friends,

After reading the topic/heading of my today’s post you might have an inkling that I may discuss some philosophical aspect of life in this write up. But, to tell you the truth, it’s not a philosophical article, rather a narration based on some events.

Old age is a truth of Life. But when we remain young, we hardly grant our thought towards this immutable reality. Especially the influence of western culture, prominence of nuclear family, new modes of entertainments, introduction of Old Age Homes etc keeps the old away from the youth and children, in turn, keeps away one aspect of life that most of us has to go through.

I am blessed to have my grandfather with me. But the sad part is that he is now ailing from past few months and his condition is deteriorating as the time progresses. “Old age in itself is a disease” once I have heard this term, now experiencing through him. He is unable to perform his regular activity not even to take his meal by himself. Though, he is in sound mind with full consciousness and memory, yet physically challenged due to perils of old age.

Yesterday night when I was lifting him from the bed and supporting in a way that he can take his dinner and medicine, he narrated a story that compelled my eyes to go wet. He told me to keep his head in my lap, I obliged. He started.

My Grandpa to me….

“You know, when you were around 4-5 years old, you had a habit of harassing someone who was going outside the home. You just started crying, shouting to carry you wherever any one goes out, so that you can accompany him and enjoy the outing.

One evening, I was the victim. I was going towards the market to purchase some groceries, and you, as usual, started crying to come with me. Your mom persuaded, papa coerced, but in front of your determination every one gave up, including me. But I made a commitment out of you, that in the course of journey you will walk yourself and never ask me to carry you in my lap or on my shoulder. You readily agreed on these terms and conditions, which I knew, you din’t have any intention to obey it.

We started walking towards market place. Barely 50 steps we have taken, you said, with utter innocence, “Baba Godi” (Grandpa please carry me in your lap while walking). I smiled, but shouted “don’t you remember your promise and if you will not walk then we will return home.Then you reverberated, “Yes, I do remember that but……” and started walking with heavy feat.

Just after nearly 30 steps we have marched forward, you again came back to the same agenda..”Baba Godi!! now I am extremely tired”.

But I was testing your patience and enjoying the expression you were giving, which was just like as a true artist. Then suddenly you spoke something which touched my core of the heart. You said, “baba, don’t you know how little I am, my legs becomes tired after a long walk, so please carry me in your arms/lap. I promise you when I will become young I will also carry you in my lap”.

His narration was over. His head was still in my lap. His eyes were wet. He pronounced. I am looking now “You are fulfilling your promise”.

I was speechless. Pretended to be tough. Gave him the medicine, which was prescribed for him for the night. Requested him to chant and remember the name of the Lord and said good night.

I was in quagmire about to share the event, but thought that many of the readers, once they will read, can relish and find their sweet memory associated with their grandfather/mother.

Life is just emotions. How you perceive emotions. How you respond to the emotions. A special trait, which differentiates the Livings with the Dead.

Isn’t it?

मैं और तुम

मैं और तुम

 

मैं सूरज बन आता हूँ

तुम चंदा बन जाती हो,

तिमिर चीर कर मैं

पास तुम्हारे आता हूँ,

और तुम अपनी छटा

कहीं और बिखराती हो !!!

 

लाख यत्न कर,

मिलन की आस लिए

बन बादल मैं,

आसमान पर छाता हूँ

तुम बारिश की बन बूंदें

धरती पर उतर आती हो!!!

अगणित तारे सदियों से

देख रहे इस खेल को,

मैं भी हूँ मूक बना

और तरसता मेल को

पर मन में दृढ विश्वास लिए

सोचता हूँ, एक दिन ऐसा भी आएगा

सूरज चंदा साथ में एक दिन

विश्व भ्रमण को जायेगा!!!

 

बुँदे कहेगी बादल से

कुछ दिन नभ में ही रुक जाते हैं

फिर दोनों मिलकर इकट्ठे

धरती की प्यास बुझाते हैं!!!

…………अभय…………

शब्द सहयोग:

तिमिर: अंधकार या अँधेरा