DREAM

I have a dream
Though what it is I haven’t realized
I live my life in its pursuit
What you shall call the pursuit by a blind
What I shall call the pursuit in darkness
Because when light will fall
It would be my rebirth
Life demands meaning till then
Blind are those
Who cannot fight for a dream
Those who don’t dream
Are the blindfolded
Who have to reach the destination
Without knowing the way
Who have to find the way
Without  the sense of light
So is dreaming a way to escape from the world?
Is dreaming a way to see with a blindfold?
Because who knows what you are meant to do
And what you dream to do
Who knows  if dreams are just an illusion?
And its not an absurdist’s allusion
And as some poet had said
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there
wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams
 no mortal ever dared to dream before
I would say the poet would have
 stood peering deep into the darkness
because its not dreams that guide us
its our actions that shall always speak out loud
so let me grow vision instead of dreams
because dreamer is a loner
because dreamer
shall always remain to be a loner

What's reality?

This is going to be short. Well maybe you can say that it is an effect of literature over me but I really am quite confused about the way authors, filmmakers, playwrights present the world to us. On one hand I read Eugene Ionesco's The Lesson today (Eugene Ionesco is an absurd playwright. Check wiki definition of theatre of absurd) and as many of the absurd playwrights present that there is always chaos in the world and our existence in it is totally insignificant. On the other hand, we have all those indian movies and the major lot of novels we get where after all the turmoil, peace and happiness is restored and accept the antagonist (or in some cases even including him), everyone is happy. Then there are the flat good characters ending up into sadness at the end into many great works like Antonio in Merchant of Venice (yeah, mam discussed it in class) by William Shakespeare and the samurai in The Seven Samurai by Akira Kurosawa which is as I would say, a diplomatic way out of the previous two options.
So what exactly is reality? The one presented by most of the people? The one presented by Eugene Ionesco? The one presented by William Shakespeare and Akira Kurosawa? Or the one presented by Shahrukh Khan, "agar ending happy nahi hai to picture abhi baaki hai mere dost" type?
Maybe poets have gone a step ahead of all other forms of literature or maybe they have skipped this indispensible step the same way I did while writing some of my poems?
We need to know what world do we all live in before demanding for another one which is absolute rather than being relative in all respects.
Stuck deep into thoughts, signing off from my way out of reality.

P.S. Sorry it got a bit long especially after the starting note of keeping it short. Saving short for the next time.

It is my own land

The future burns in bits

Our depth is not of the oceans

We all belong to the pits

The rich is flying higher

The poor is dying in slum

Heads above us decide the tunes

What song am I supposed to hum?

The sea of jewels

Is even washing away the golden sand

But I am still not leaving it

Because it is my own land.

The peace of white

shall always exist

but between saffron and green

there is a thick layer of mist

when did fights turn into riots

and riots into terrorism

not even the god knows

hatred can breed in diversity

that’s what our history shows

broken seems to be our tricolor band

but I am still not leaving it

because it is my own land.

Everything can be bought these days

Even conscience hangs for sale

Bribery broke into us through many ways

Anti corruption seems to always trail

They say machinery always needs oiling

So whats better than it being organized

Rate boards would soon be put

Soon a subsystem for it will be devised

And we all are lending a helping hand

But I am still not leaving it

Because it is my own land.

What strength of men

What hidden powers

Resources are never short here

To build the highest tower

Of victory in this show off world

Where developing is the tag we get

And we would remain developing

If abroad is where all our people fret

Change shall come from within

And for that we need a magic wand

Till then I am not going to leave it

Because it is my own land.

सिकंदर

आंधी और तूफ़ान का साया
जिसने सब कुछ हिला दिया
अन्धेरा यह कैसा छाया
जिसने रौशनी से मिला दिया
जब जीतने का जज्बा था तो
कोई सानी नही मिला
और जब डूबने की इच्छा हुई
तो कही पानी नहीं मिला
बेकार गयी हर सुरक्षा
खाली गया हर वार
जीतने पर जीत न मिली
हारने पे न मिली हार
जीत ली जब दुनिया साडी
अब और क्या मैं पाऊंगा
जीने की वजह भी हारी
अब मर के सिकंदर कहलाऊंगा
आंधी और तूफ़ान का साया
जिसने मेरा सब कुछ हिला दिया
अँधेरा यह कैसा छाया
जिसने मुझको आज रूला दिया
खड़ा अकेला उस छोटी पर
ढूंढ रहा करने को काम
नीचे लोग आवाज़ दे रहे
बुला बुला के मेरा नाम
दे कर मैं उनको सहारा
सब को ऊपर लाऊंगा
यूह अकेला मर की भी मैं
ज़िन्दगी से क्या पाऊंगा
होगा अन्धेरा ऊपर मेरे
पर रौशनी तो निचे है
मंजिल चाहे आगे हो पर
साथी मेरे पीछे है
मर गया सिकंदर जी कर
क्या उसने खुद से पाया
पूरी दुनिया को हरा के
आखिर में तो ज़हर खाया
आखिर में तो ज़हर खाया

Last blog entry on this Valentines Day

My last blog post on this special occasion of Valentines Day. So talking about the most well commercialized relationship A.K.A. love, I was told by someone today that why are we supposed to express all our love on a single day in a year?

Well that was a very good question but since none of us gets much time to spend with our loved ones (especially if they are in another college or worse in another city), occasions like birthdays, Valentines day etc etc (though I know there may not be too many of them) may be able to bring that spark back for some time. It provides a reason for lovers to meet. And that is the purpose of such days, to remind you how important people are in your life. Like it’s the mother’s day when you truly appreciate what all has your mother done for you. So recognizing all that once a year is atleast better than not doing it.

Then people come back to the old discussion that true love does not require reasons and excuses. To this I would say that true love does not exist. It is too absolute to be true and as I say it, “This world is too relative to have anything absolute to exist in it.” If my sitting is also relative to that of the frame of earth, then how can something like love be absolute which is far too complex?

Simple answer to this is it is not and what we can only do is inch closer to that perfect thing high above us. Wishing you all a very romantic year ahead. Keep inching towards absoluteness. Kudos.

मैं कौन हूँ?

लहरों से आगे

आसमानो के नीचे

दूर उस ज़मीन पर

जो अकेला बन्दा खड़ा है

वोह मैं हू

हर पल जो किसी को ढूंढती रहती है

वोह मेरी नज़रें है

और जो तुम्हारे सीने में धड़कता है

वोह ही मेरा दिल है

पर मैं हू कौन?

मैं लाभ हू

मैं हानि हू

मैं आग हू

मैं पानी हु

मैं ही राजा

मैं ही रानी हू

मैं किसी शिरी का फरहाद हू

मैं किसी के दिल की फरियाद हू

किसी का सपना हू

किसी का अपना हू

और जिसका पराया हू

उसका भी मैं अपना हू

जब तुम्हे भूक लगती है

तो मैं खाना हू

जब ठंड

तो मैं धूप बन जाता हू

और गर्मी में साया भी मैं ही हू

हर दिल का मुझसे नाता है

और हर दिमाग का मुझसे रिश्ता

कोई मुझे भगवान् कहता है

कोई फ़रिश्ता

पर हु तो मैं तुम्हारा ही हिस्सा

बस देखो तो सही

खुद ढूंढते हो तुम

अपने लिए धुप, साया और खाना

प्यार के लिए भी

तुम्हे कही और नही जाना

सब तुम में ही है

तुम ही एक दुनिया हो

तुम ही हो एक संसार

तुम्हे ही मिलती है हर जीत

तुम्हारी ही है हर हार

मैं हू कही

पर भूल के मुझे

करो अपना काम

और हर गलती का

मुझपे न लगाओ इलज़ाम

क्युंकी मैं लहरों से आगे

आसमानो के नीचे

दूर उस ज़मीन पर

अकेला खड़ा हू

नज़रें चाहे सब पे हो

पर हाथ सबसे दूर

हाथो का है तुमसे ही रिश्ता

क्युकी चाहे भगवान् मैं हू

तुम ही हो अपना फ़रिश्ता

Love

Love is not dependent on age or face

It does not change with time or space

Love is not something we call as art

Love is every soul’s integral part

So let the haters get away with unfair

Since happiness is not hatred’s heir

Love shall always be prosperity’s mother

And love blossoms from one to another

It may have begun in one’s prime

But it gradually goldens with time

The two look into each other’s eyes

And purges away the darkness and lies

Even after those the end of lusty days

They don’t have to think of a praise

And the time finds it complete use

Them who shall never seek an excuse

Love is always new unlike art which grows old

And it keeps the blood warm when its too cold

So what has kept my eyelids open

Even after exhaustion on a weary night?

Love seems to have made me blind

Love seems to have takne my sight

And the love that is still not found

Want to fly but I am still on ground

I may have to rethink about my speed

But actually there is certainly no need

When even Ferrari shall seem to be slow

I am in love, its then I shall know

And I do not need to keep up the pace

Because it is not a bloody race

And with that sweetness, I have to live

That truth may not be able to give

And I want something very closely knit

Away from all lies, away from all wit.