Wednesday, December 23, 2009

हम सब धुंध भरे कमरों में...


हम सब
धुएं भरे कमरे में
अलग-अलग बंद
कुच्छ भटके हुए सार हैं
जिनका सन्दर्भ खो चुका है..

ओझल हाथों से
पथरीली दीवालों को टटोलातें हैं
कि शायद कोई शिलालेख मिल जाये;
...लेकिन ये दीवारें नयी हैं,
इनसे सिर्फ हाथ पर चूने की सफेदी लग जाती है


...कोई चिन्ह नहीं, कोई उभार नहीं,
जो हमें हमारी खोयी आकृति वापस दे दे


शायद यदि एक दूसरे को छू पाते,
तो कुछ मिल जाता


...लेकिन यह कमरे बंद हैं, अलग हैं...

कुछ सुराख़ हैं, जिनके धुंधले दायरे से
एक दूसरे का निशाना पा जाते हैं


...और तब लगता है की हम
अकेले नहीं हैं...


...और भी बहुत से हैं,
जो अलग-अलग
अपने-अपने
धुंध भरे बंद कमरों में
अपना सन्दर्भ टटोले रहे हैं!...

Thursday, December 17, 2009

उस शाम से, इस शाम तक...

These two poems were written some 32 & 33yrs back - around this time of the year...
well... everything returns, when you watch the river (even though you never step into the same river twice!)...
-----------
स्वप्निल सा था साथ तुम्हारा,
कोहरे में
छिप गया अँधेरा...
धुंधला, धुंधला,
भीगा, भीगा,
तारों पर मखमली बसेरा...

हाथ पकड़ कर
साथ चले तो
पग-पग पर
धरती पर उतरा
सपनों भरा यथार्थ हमारा...
.....
A year later:

हाँ, याद है कोहरे भरी वोह शाम
सहमा सा अँधेरा
बर्फ की चादर सरीखा
ठिठका हुआ, उलझा हुआ, रुकता धुंआ
जो तार पर थम, सांस में घुलता रहा...

कुछ शब्द जो सहमे हुए,
बह कर अधर से रुक गए
जडवत लटकते शून्य में...
संदिग्धता थी ,
टूट जायेंगे सभी यदि गिर पड़े...
... मासूम से वे शब्द जो सहमे खड़े थे मौन में...

पर अचानक एक आँचल ने समेटा,
आह बन कर सांस दी
वो जी उठे...

कुछ शब्द जो तुमने कहे, जुड़ते गए
पग, पग बढे, पाते, स्वयं को खोजते
स्वर-शब्द के स्पर्श से
स्पर्श तक
पग-पग मिले, मिलते रहे...
उस शाम से, इस शाम तक...
-----------
20-21 years later, it was the same time/month of the year... and the winter and mist took an entirely different meaning...

Wednesday, December 02, 2009

The Journey of the Sphinx/ "twice-born"

There are some journeys which are difficult to narrate/ explain.... here is one which I took (or which took me!) back during mid-'87... I had tried to sketch it as it was happening


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Around the same time, I had written these verses:

The solitary migratory bird
with a fire in the heart
burns itself out.

And so,
I tell myself:
learn a new way to fly,
a new way to sing...

For,
how long,
how often
you will re-enact
this eternal drama
of
rising from the ashes...


...and thus, I guess, around that time, I became a "twice-born"/Dwij... in the sense as William James described in his "The Varieties of Religious Experiences"

"The once-born souls go through life with an un-self-conscious attitude, happily ignorant of their own human frailties and mortality. They accept life as it comes, and suffer and prosper without pausing to reflect on forces - within them or outside them - which chart their destinies. The twice-borns, on the other hand, have experienced the taste of death, and emerged wiser and humbler to face life. Having become aware of their own mortality, they are accutely conscious of themselves and as separate and alone ... they consciously reflect upon, and critique and question their own choices."

amen!...