Ek arsa ho gaya...

Khidkiyon se jhaankti wo chhani si dhoop aur agarbatti ki khushbuyein,
Ek arsa ho gaya tha usey ghar ki subah dekhe huye,
Maathe pe rakha haath aur meethi si wo loriaan,
Muddatein guzar gyi thi ma ki god mein lete huye.

Kisi ka nanha bachpan aur dhoondhti nazrein,
Chhodh aaya wo apni gudiya ko raah takte huye,
Kisi ke besabra shikwe din raat intzaar karte hain,
Peechhe chhooti hai ek adhoori mohabbaat tadapte huye.

Sookhi coffee ke cup se wo mehekte lamhe,
ab talak bikhre hai us aangan ki chaarpai mein lipte huye,
Aaj bhi shiddat se khoonti mein tangi hai wo vardi,
Jiske dhabbon mein na jane kitne kisse hain simte huye.

Kai khwaab toote the jab wo sarhadon mein soya tha,
Apni palkon mein chand hasratein samete huye,
Aakhir nibha diya wo vaada bhi jo waapasi ka kar gaya tha wo,
Wo lauta, magar tirange ka khoobsurat kafan lapete huye.

Wo kar gaya apne hisse ki mohabbat watan se apne,
Khud ko  sabki khaatir yu hi fanaa karte huye,
Par kahin rooh banke wo apni keemat ka hisaab karta hoga,
Jab sabko dekhta hoga aapas mein bewajeh ladte huye.

Your First Birthday without you!

A tribute to my God, my Jethi Ma, on her birthday, first one without her. She's no more, yet I couldn't get over this habit of writing something for her on her birthday. From somewhere, I hope she's looking. In whichever form she's in, I have faith she'll be by my side, always!  Happy birthday Jethu.   Whatever came to my mind, I wrote. An unstructured expression of love,  for you, when you're being missed:

"Your first birthday without you"

It’s just three months since you’re gone,
And each fleeting day seemed like a year to me
My days used to begin with your voice and end with yours
And now there’s no one lending one’s ears to me.

Laughing away the jokes and fighting away the plights
You made sufferings appear lighter than bubbles
Whenever my bygones haunted me and I got scared
You profoundly took care of me through all my troubles

You were my first cradle, always acting as a cushion when life hit hard
And my first canvas where I painted and scribbled whatever came to my heart
You were the only pair of eyes who used to see through my soul
Friend, mom, father and sibling, for me, how well you played each part

I remember three years back when I prepared your birthday card
I designed it in a way so that you can feel it without your eyes
I travelled back to home to present it on your birthday as a surprise
But you surprised me, hospitalized, paralyzed, broken, with rheumy eyes.

Still you never gave up on your efforts to offer me reasons to smile
You welcomed me home each time in the same way you did before
Standing for my sake despite your weak body and shattered dreams,
Hiding behind the curtains to surprise me when I entered opening the door

I remember how you used to search and raise your paralyzed hand
To rest it on my head to shower your blessings and express your love
That is the most prized possession I’ll treasure till the end
It’s pristine, and unsurpassed, like something bestowed from heaven above.

I still recall months back when you were struggling with life each day
One morning in the hospital you woke up, held me and you cried
The reason surprised me as it was not that you were in pain
But that you thought in that phase you were not able to make my days bright

But till your last day you were the sunshine of my life
Whose ‘GoodMorning Cindroo’ used to make my day
I were your reason who kept you from breaking apart
And you were my strength driving me each day

I have this custom of writing poem for you each year Jethu
I couldn’t hold back myself from following that this year too
I wish you can just come back once and listen to me
So that once more I can kiss you and tell how much I love you.

I won’t quit as I reckon you’ll be my strength in all the walks of life
And you’ll still listen to me when I’ll speak my heart out each passing night
For the world I may be odd or dull or sluggish or frail, I don’t really care
I only remember that for you I was a chirpy bird with sturdy wings and utmost flight

Your demise taught me a lesson silently and practically
Like the way you taught me about life, it’s joys and sorrows
That, never overlook a chance to express love to a loved one
Because not everyone lingers in all the tomorrows

I just wish if I can dial back home and once again wish you
Because It’s your Birthday today, the first one without you
I’ll never forget that chuckling, warm, affectionate tone
That used to respond to my “Jethi Ma, Happy Birthday to You”

Faith..

Wrapped up in the molten silence by the strings of the bygones,

It’s okay to ponder over your tacit dreams sometimes.

The time might have paced faster than your feeble steps,

And it’s fine if you were slowed down by hard-hitting times.

Remember, in childhood when you fell down, you got up.

You dusted yourself and moved on. You have it in you.

As a kid, you got up and painted your own stunning rainbow,

You never bothered if your sky carried a melancholic hue.

So now, rise and stride as you have a survivor’s gait,

Gather your broken pieces since it’s never too late.

You are the stardust and have all it takes to form galaxies,

You’re brighter than your night and stronger than your fate.

Your invictus soul might be fazed by your rheumy eyes,

But always let your smile triumph over your tears.

Have faith that the dawn follows all the darkest nights,

And let your faith be higher than your fears.

~D.K

Pride....

Served before us ancestrally like a vintage wine
Running through our shrinking veins like rotten blood
Ego – a delusional booster. A myth of self-dynamism.
Our pale-blue world suspended like a mote of dust in the sunbeam
Our existence thriving on a spurious edge of forever
Oblivious to magnanimity of the Universe
Acknowledgement of a multiverse lying as a flotsam in some pieces of brains
We triumph over our perishable bracket.
Aware, yet spurning.
We sip in our delectable prides of self, of materialism, of nothingness
Day in, day out.
Waiting leisurely for our green dot to be turned blue by melting snows.
Nevertheless, somewhere, a tribe toils hard to turn it red.
Blood-red rivers. Wars. Terrorism – A respite before The Great Epilogue.
Repugnance – A religion, infant.
Altruism – A bearded man on a deathbed.
Still, we are proud – of what, still a question anticipating an answer.
Wealth – Dozing somewhere along the debris after an earthquake
Relations – Melting away with the turning pages of the calendar.
People – Turning into muzzy voices of the past eluding the minds relentlessly
Respect – Aah! A wrinkled man, unchaperoned, axed by his ostentatious progeny
Our pride – a tesseract – a projection of our self over time
We gulp it – relishing its flamboyancy no matter how untrue
Our ego – a soul-numbing antidote unshackling the sentience of a feeble self
Ego – A twig, we muse – thwarting us from drowning in the realities of the unreal world
Pride – Ugly, yet a savior from the depressive self-destruction episode.
Pride – A glass of wine – Sparklingly ambivalent.
~ Damini Kala