Showing posts with label Poetry English. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry English. Show all posts

साल

 Best wishes on New Year to one and all.

I always leave my hometown Patna with mixed feelings, some of hope, some of despair.What has remained consistent is the warmth of the people there.

I was visiting Patna recently ,at a time when frenetic activities and canvassing for the local municipal corporation elections were underway.

The sights and sounds have crystallised in this hastily written poem.

साल

क्यों इतना शोर?क्यों इतना बवाल?
वो गया साल! ये नया साल!

ना कुछ बदला,ना कुछ सुधरा,
बस वही भेड़ की भेड़चाल।

बंटी चुनाव से पूर्व हलवा पूड़ी,
बाकी दिन रहे तरसते रोटी दाल।

नेता रथ पर घूमता गाजे बाजे संग,
नंगे पैर  दौड़ता गुदड़ी का लाल।

संकरी सड़कों पर दौड़ती  जहाजनुमा गाड़ियां,
कौवा चला हंस की चाल।

बन रहे पुल और नहरें आज कागज़ पे,
सरकारी कोष ठन ठन गोपाल!

बाकी बचे की नोच खसोट में,
लगे हुए "सफेदपोश "और दलाल।

चंद चमचमाती इमारतों ने ढका,
पीछे पड़े कचरे,मलबे का टाल।

नर्सिंग होंम और क्लिनिक में होड़ लगी है,
बिलखते मरीज़ और चरमराते अस्पताल।

ज़ेवर ज़ेवरात की दमकती दुकानें,
पीला हुआ सब काला माल।


मत करो शोर,मत करो बवाल,
बस आस अवश्य मन में ये पाल,
वो गया साल, ये नया साल !


मत करो शोर,मत करो बवाल,
बस आस अवश्य मन में ये पाल,
वो गया साल, ये नया साल !

The little girl

 As a break from the routine, I had partcipated in a cultural program held on the occasion of International Nurses Day.

One of my juniors, made a small video while we were getting ready for the function. I had posted that video ,to which someone had remarked "do you have daughter who looks like you".
Of course, that statement was made in jest but there was an element of truth in it !☺️


She loves to watch the stars,
As they twinkle on dark nights,
And hear the waves crash,
As the silver orb shines bright. 

She loves to chase the butterfly,
Which flits from flower to flower,
And feel their gossamer wings,
In the early morning hour. 

She loves to taste the raindrops,
Cascading off her hair,
And float regal paperboats,
In waterlogged thoroughfare. 

She loves to borrow from the canary,
And spread some sunshine,
The crimson and the claret,
She steals from summer wine. 

She loves the caress of grass,
While bouncing in her bare feet,
And watch the rainbow dance,
On dewdrops, in their leafy seat. 

She loves the strain of music,
Floating in the air,
Of some longlost song,
With friends she would share. 

She loves her orange tongue,
Which she sticks out at the mirror,
The taste of ice popsicle,
Fresh and tingling, it lingers. 

She loves to pirouette and twirl,
The beats never tire ,
The wind blows her tresses,
Keeping adrift all desires. 

She remains frozen in time,
Pristine and free,
Chaos and churning, keep distance!
The little girl lives in me !!