The Palanquin Bearers

Lightly, O lightly we bear her along,
She sways like a flower in the wind of our song;
She skims like a bird on the foam of a stream,
She floats like a laugh from the lips of a dream.
Gaily, O gaily we glide and we sing,
We bear her along like a pearl on a string.

Softly, O softly we bear her along,
She hangs like a star in the dew of our song;
She springs like a beam on the brow of the tide,
She falls like a tear from the eyes of a bride.
Lightly, O lightly we glide and we sing,
We bear her along like a pearl on a string.

--- Sarojini Naidu
(The Nightingale of India)

Haunted

It haunts me time and again, the question - Why was I born ? The fact that the world would be the same with or without me, is agonizingly stimulating. So many are born every day and so many die. What difference does it create to the world on large scale ? None. Birth and death are celebrated and mourned (respectively) only once a year, and that too, only by few loved ones. Is it a sin to be born ?

The idea of salvation says the prime objective of being born is to acquire freedom from the cycle of life and death. Why can't be any other way out ? If God exists, and he loves us, why does he have to put us through this ? If he doesn't, then who is the conniver? Well, these thoughts aren't expected from the unfortunate majority who struggle to make their ends meet. But the well-off minority, why don't they ever ponder about such a fundamental question? Perhaps they're too busy looking for superficial entities, as if they'll live unto eternity.

There are only two ways out of this conundrum, either live like the well-off minority, or aspire to be one of those handful men who have made a difference by their presence. The world today would be something else, had they not existed. But they were among the rarest of rare, & possessed extraordinary qualities, innate or acquired.

A Pslam of life

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream ! —
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real ! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal ;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way ;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle !
Be a hero in the strife !

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant !
Let the dead Past bury its dead !
Act,— act in the living Present !
Heart within, and God o'erhead !

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time ;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate ;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

--- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Let me

Let me drown in your eyes
if they'll start to glow!

Let me dissolve in your tears
...they'll cease to flow!

Let me melt in your embrace
as I take the blow!

Let me vanish in your heart
and we'll begin to grow!

I'll never complain

I'll never complain,
whatever be the pain
not sure if I did, earlier
..it won't happen again !

Do what you like to
go walk the talk,
I'm just a maverick who
you're free to mock !

You expect me to share,
just a pretense of care,
'cause if you really did,
one wouldn't really be morbid !

I was breathing when you
were away...
I am...even now,
& hope to, without you!

Isn't it all that matters ?

I'll never complain,
whatever be the pain
not sure if I did, earlier
..it won't happen again !

Gandhiji's Talisman

"I will give you a talisman. Whenever you are in doubt, or when the self becomes too much with you, apply the following test. Recall the face of the poorest and the weakest person whom you may have seen, and ask yourself, if the step you contemplate is going to be of any use to him. Will he gain anything by it? Will it restore him to a control over his own life and destiny? In other words, will it lead to swaraj [freedom] for the hungry and spiritually starving millions?
Then you will find your doubts and your self melt away."

--- Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi
[Source-Mahatma Gandhi [Last Phase, Vol. II (1958), P. 65].

वो मौसम का झोंका

किसी मौसम का झोंका था, जो इस दीवार पर लटकी हुई तस्वीर तिरछी कर गया है

गये सावन में ये दीवारें यूँ सीली नहीं थी
ना जाने क्यों इस दफ़ा इनमे सीलन आ गयी है,
दरारें पड़ गयी हैं
और सीलन इस तरह बहती है जैसे,
खुशक़ रुखरारों पे गीले आँसु चलते हैं.

ये बारिश गुनगुनाती थी इसी छत की मुंडेरो पर
ये बारिश गुनगुनाती थी इसी छत की मुंडेरो पर
ये घर की खिड़कियों के काँच पर उंगली से लिख जाती थी सन्देसे
गिरती रहती है बैठी हुई अब बंद रोशनदानों के पीछे.

दुपहरें ऐसी लगती हैं,
बिना मुहरों के खाली खाने रखें हैं
ना कोई खेलने वाला है बाज़ी
और ना कोई चाल चलता है

ना दिन होता है अब, ना रात होती है, सभी कुछ रुक गया है
वो क्या मौसम का झोंका था, जो इस दीवार पर लटकी हुई तस्वीर तिरछी कर गया है


--- गुलज़ार ( "पिया तोरा कैसा अभिमान", रेनकोट)