The year 2021

 The year 2021

Happiness and gratefulness are some of the basic emotions of human nature

but this year we all felt this emotions from within.

Trying to capture all the moments with our devices,

to relive them today, tomorrow and for rests.

This year could have been summed up into many ways 

but onto a big picture it was a year of self reflection. 

A year beautiful as a destination after a disturbing trip has 

been an amazing gift.

With high highs and low lows this year has 

come to an end.

2021 you have been splendid,

hopefully 2022 you will be too. 

Musafir

 Musafir

Roz marra ki zindagi se thak kar
kuch naya karne ki khushi me
raho par nikla bina kisi mazil.

Safar me saath unn anjano ka
lag sa gaya kuch anokha sa.

Deewaro se durr unn pahado par
bana liya hai chota sa aashiyana
aapna.

Do waqt ki roti ke liye do pahad chadhna,
shayad iss hi mehenat ka fal hota hai mitha.

Raaton me khud ko tara ke neeche paya
toh subh khud ko duniya se upar dekha.

Din bitate, lautne par murjhaya ye dil,
Par wo kisse yaad kar jhum sa gaya ye dil.

Aasliyat se kuch din durr zarur,
Par ek baar phir ye Musafir aapne ghar
laut ayaa hai huzur.

Live

 Live

We all live but we all complain,

we all wonder but we merely suffer.

In this ruling less world we still are trapped inside us,

in this world of freedom,

we still haven’t left the cage of our zone.

We all are afraid,

we all are scared,

not for one but for our last breath.

Life is short, indeed,

but not complicated as it seems.

Counting days and nights,

thriving hard to make

everything perfect,

little do we know, the beauty of imperfection

is the true essence of life 

we have been living all along.

Sooner or later, this all will be a theory,

while we attain the utmost freedom in our sleep, eternally.

The end has begun may be not,

the end is close maybe not,

however to live what we have not,

the hourglass can be reversed.

For a moment, open your arms

 and let the breeze pass through your soul,

the time will go still,  for once

if ‘we’ are the reason for what we live.  

                                      - Insha

Wo chaar deewar

 Wo chaar deewar  

Chaar diwaro ke andar hua mera janam,

Char diwaro ke andar sikha mene chalna,

Din se hafte, hafto se mahine, mahino se saal,

Bitate bitate khud ko sambhala hai mene inn char diwaro ke andar.

Khud ke khayalo ko, khud ke soch ko,

Ubhara hai mene

Inn Chaar diwaro ke andar.

Kehete hai zindagi jine ke liye

hume is duniya ke soch se chalna zaruri hai

Par iss duniya ki rit se alag

Iss duniya ke bhaw se alag,

Khud ko sawara hai mene

Inn chaar diwaro ke anadar.

Little by little

 Little by little 

The thought of separation despised me,

the distance between the two horrified me,

the ignorance, the wait, tortured me.

Little by little, feelings were turned into fragments of flowers,

with the wind in the open garden, they flew for another hour.

Little by little, the memories flashed and the fountain of tears were once again

a pool of fears.


The degree of separation was never a reason

but lack of faith was always a treason.
 

The days have passed yet the box is empty,

maybe for once a quill will be handy.


Not for a moment but for years,

the stain of ink will remind me of you.

A poem.

Ek kahani

Ek kahani  

Ek kahani likhi hai
kabhi milo toh sunaungi tab.

Khud se dur karne ki koshish me
Bhul chuki ho khud ko hi,
Pal bhaar me hi paraya
Kar chuki hu khud ko hi.

Kisi se kaha toh nhi
Par jab kaha,
Kho chuki hu khud ko hi.

Ab na intezaar tumhare wado ka
Raha,
Na tasali tumhare aane ki rahi,
Ab wakt hai unn lamho ko
Bhulane ka,
Jisme tumhari yaade judhi rahi.

Dil todhna mujhe aata nhi,
Par
Ghila hai har wo cheez ka
Jo tumne mujhe bataya nhi.

Aawara si hu ab, pal bhaar me nadaan se hu ab,
Wakt bitega jab tum jesa koi, dubara se ek kahani sikha jaega.

Ek kahai likhi hai
kabhi milo toh sunaungi tab.

Father

 Father

Holding his little finger the princess learned how to walk,

On a blotted stomach he managed to let the little one fall asleep.

The nights were long and the days were short,

no matter what time of the year,

Working dusk till dawn.

Trying to build a castle for his little princess,

He always worked on weekends.

Like hero, like king,

none of the above but still,

my beam,

My Father.

Mother

 Mother

Holding your hand from thick to thins,

Consoling me at my misery to laughing on to my jokes,

Encouraging me to work at my worst to supporting me in my every decision,

We have a bond that can never flop.

With the morning bed tea you wake me up,

With the afternoon snacks you spoil me like a brat,

With evening juice you make me want to reap every fruit.

You understand me like no one ever will,

You are my forever and eternal,

You are my,

 Mother. 

Our earth Our mother

 Our earth, Our mother 

Million years ago,

a ball of fire burst,

Knowing nothing

        But

forming billions of

Starts and Moons

like us.

 

Growing each day

with new species and warms,

One day ‘the earth’ had a new

Mammal called ‘human’.

And once again the earth

was addressed as ‘Mother’.

 

Inspite of the care and love

the child forgets,

the mother’s pain and hard work.

 

The selfless being still protects,

the child with same love and affection.

 

The notorious ones still disobeys and goes against, yet the mother stays silent.

 

With no words but actions,

with no tears but pain,

with no pleasure but guilt,

the child pays for his actions.

But no sooner than commits another fun.

 

There is time, there is future,

we hear.

As a matter fact there is only,

One life here.

 

If not now then when?

 

Lets be obedient, Lets be grateful.

 

For once not for us

But for the one

who gave us birth

 

Our planet earth.

A poem.

Place where I belong

 Place where I belong 

In the darkness I sleep

while in the sunshine I rise.

Deep down in my heart,

I am still fetching a place

which I can call mine.

 

Time passes with every change of the place.

Indeed, the older I get, the weaker I feel.

But with every new place I discover something

different within me.

 

None of the destination matters unless I feel my soul.

 

With no reason I travel,

with no journey I walk,

not with a motto but

with the hope of finding

some place

where I belong.

 

Just poem.