प्याजी सी साडी

प्याजी सी साडी में लिपटी हुई वोह,
खडी थी कहने को बहुत कुछ आतुर,
परतों पे परतें, जैसे तहें हों,
प्याज की भाँती, आंखों में आंसू कुछ,
एक शांत सी नींद और होठों पे मुस्कराहट
परतों के नीचे का रहस्य मिला जब
उनसे नहीं कोई गिला हमें अब
जब अपने ही खो गए अर्थ कहीं सब

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Can life teach?

It actually began, quite reluctantly. Unnecessary as it may seem, life teaches you what you allow it to teach. Even Life cannot teach you what it offers you. One has to let himself dissolve into the experience and let it sink in, and that I might call religion or education. Whatever the other person is willing to accept. Nay. Does it matter? Nay. Life is about teaching oneself. Being a self-thought-taught "person", picking up bits and pieces from various experiences, I tread on a path; I have myself laid out for myself. Never have I asked, in other words, begged for words, from "messiahs". Never did I think myself of having enough virtue, call it patience, to learn from others. So "rich" were my experiences. Things change, dynamically. Responding to an open question, throwing caution to the winds, I immersed myself into a debate, with people who thought, had streamlined their thinking apparatus and abilities. Gradually, they pestered; read "lee...

Can you hear me?

When the last tree has fallen, When the last drops of water are polluted, When the last bird ceases to sing, Will “they” realize that money cannot be eaten. Reading these somewhat crazy lines, I was joyous, at being finally able to have convinced myself, that this human race has faintest of hopes of living out the new century. I had been troubled for a pretty long time at, what seems to me, a race to extinction. I am an educated, liberal and informed individual. Having been educated at the best of the institutions, I developed a deep admiration for Mother Nature and her so “wily” ways. Listening to my Guru and his talks on “biomimetic” methods, I sensed a deep concern in him. Of late, all he talked of was “Green” Chemistry. I connect to people, people my age and people “not” my age, irrespective of who and what they are, thanks to my rootless upbringing. I used to be appalled at how short sighted “genuinely” gifted men can be. Talks of Dollar salaries, Ivy League scholarsh...

The void...

I feel empty. I feel raw. I feel rotten. I feel like not feeling. I have nothing to show, if someone to ask me about what I have achieved in my stay on this planet. Nothing. what is a few flirtations with literature, knowledge, pain and sweat. No blood. No tears. No medallions. No gallantry. Ah! I am disgusted with myself for being so ordinary. I deserve the void for I do not work half as hard as I could. I am wasting my life.

Teens to Toons

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