Phuur...


Kehete The...

Jis peher se beetey hum
Who peher tere kal ko na jaane
Tu upni Manzil
aur upni kiasmath
Khud upne haatho se likhna jaane

zindagi kuch bole
Nidar Chalna hai tujhe
Taqdeer ke saath Buland
Rehena hai tujhe


Purani Baatey aur Purani soch
Se aagey badna hai tujhe
Har Mukaam par yaad karna hai
Is bachpan ki seekh ko tujhe

Dunya ke saath
Aur Samay ke peeche
Aagey badna hai tujhe


Ab Kehete hai mujhe...

 jo Guzar Gaya bachpan
Toh Upni seekh bhulani hai tujhe
Jo pad likh ke aagey nikla
Waapas toh aana hai tujhe

umar ke saath aayega samajh
gareebo mein nahi, doodh
baata jata hai bhagwaano mein
Aur sitare ek khoobsurat dhrishti nahi
Insaano ke pagalpan ke karan hai

Kehete hai mujhe ...

Umar ka tajurba hai
Har din ek Samaan nahi
Har Din ek bhagwaan nahi
Har din ka varat alag hai
Har din ka bhog alag hai

Ki
Har cheez  se mujhe archan hai
har achcan ka ek upai hai
Archano se mujhe
seekhna hai nahi
Andar ki or dekhna hai nahi

Yaha Eeshwar ka koi nyayay nahi
bas puja ka yeh ek paat hai
thoda paisa thoda Karam kaand hai
Koi din na ek samaan hai
Kabhi shani kabhi mangal
Inka na koi deen imaan hai

Yaad hai!...

Dunya ke saath
Saymay ke peeche
Lagta hai
Parinda hu mein
Ek din
phuur ho jana hai mujhe

A Wishful Ounce

It is the way it is
As far as I see,
Always a far away tree
Always the lonely leaf
For the valley of merit seeks
A little appreciation of its
Earthen efforts of rivers running
Finding meaning as agreed

It is the way it’s is
Lesser of the two evils I speak
An omitted word a silent sound
A letting go of a wishful ounce
Always a far away tree
Always the lonely leaf

It’s a curious thing
The bond between
The valleys mountains
And it’s river indeed
A watchful fantasy lived by
Yet another omitted word
Of a meandering river
Down the mountain steep

It is the way it is
Always a mountain steep
Always a meandering river
As far as can I see..

Space in between

To savour moments that have left us
 As I stand on the bridge
 Between yesterday and today
 I wonder what it could have been
 As I walk collecting parts of myself
 Scattered in memories and stories
 Once which seemed, a certain reality

 What if it was just me
 And what it’d be if not for family
 In the faint melodies of my yesterdays
 I pick up on sounds of myself
 Of what it’d be had it been just me

 No this is not melancholy
 It’s a mere thought of who might I
 Eventually choose to be
 I am no soldier, they find purpose 
 In things other people see
 I am no messenger, they define purpose
 To people who can’t read
 I just am a bunch of words
 In scattered memories and stories
 Once which seemed like, a certain reality

 It is one to the heart’s desires
 Of a certain peace
 Among the people who we love
And from whom love we seek
 the other a peculiar oneness
 With just me, as I walk
 To savour the moments that leave us
 As I stand on the bridge
 Between yesterday and today
 Facing of what will be eventually