यादें - कविता #hindipoetry #poetry #हिन्दी #हिन्दीकविता

चलो सारा सामान जांच लेते हैं,

 एक और बार,

 सभी बक्सों में से,

 जो सालों से बंद है,

 धूल इकट्ठा करने में मशगूल,

 कोनों में,

 अलमारियों के ऊपर,

 पलंगों के नीचे,

 जहां भी उन्हें रहने या छिपने के लिए जगह मिली।

 कितने छोटे,

 और बड़ी चीजें,

 बक्सों में हैं,

 जो रखी थी,

 यह सोचकर कि जरूरत पड़ने पर,

 उन्हें निकाला जाएगा,

 लेकिन भूल गए,

 समय की अवधि में,

 उनको मौका मिला,

 धूल इकट्ठा करने को, 

 या आसपास मकड़ी के जाले उगाने को।

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 कुछ दवाएं हो सकती हैं,

 कुछ शैंपू,

 या कुछ तेल,

 मसाले आदि

 एक बार खोल कर,

 प्रत्येक की जांच करना आवश्यक है,

 इतने सालों बाद,

 फेंकना भी जरूरी है,

 जो समाप्त हो चुके हैं,

 क्योंकि वे किसी काम के नहीं हैं,

 उन का उपयोग करना,

 अपना नुकसान करने के बराबर हो सकता है।

वैसे इस बहाने,

कुछ खाली जगह बन जाएगी,

जहां हम कुछ उपयोगी सामान रख सकेंगे,

 या उन बेकार बक्सों को फेंक कर,

 वहां पहुंचेगी ताजी हवा,

 और साथ-साथ कुछ खाली जगह बढ़ जाएगी।

 मुझे याद,

 मैंने एक बार कुछ कहा था,

 भावनाओं में इतना तेज,

 जिसने तुम्हें घंटों रुलाया था।

 ऐसी बहुत सी बातें,

 सालों पुरानी,

 मुझे अभी तक याद हैं।

 तुम्हे भी याद होंगी,

 मेरे बारे में ऐसी बहुत सी बातें,

 उनमें से कुछ,

 मन में कहीं दब चुकी होंगी,

 ऐसे ही, बक्सों में सामान की तरह, 

 वर्ष दर वर्ष।

 ये अधूरी पुरानी यादें,

 इतनी जगह घेर चुकी हैं,

 जिन में बहुत ऐसी हैं, जिनका, 

 कुछ करने को नहीं है,

 हमारे आज के जीवन के साथ,

 और हमारी खुशी से।

 फिर भी,

 वो पल पड़े हैं,

 पुरानी यादों से भरे हुए,

 कुछ जगह तो चाहिए होगी,

 याद में आज की मधुर अनुभूति रखने को,

 इसलिये,

 दिल और दिमाग में जगह बनानी है।

 वो डिब्बे, और,

 उनमें यादें,

 हानिकारक हो सकता है,

 अप्रभावी, या,

 अर्थहीन भी।

 हमें करने दो,

 एक बार फिर,

 उन बक्सों को खोलने का यत्न,

 जो धूल चाट रहे हैं

 हमारे दिलों,

 और दिमाग में,

 सालों से।

 चलो उनको खोलते हैं,

 आकलन करना,

 समाप्ति तिथि,

 उन सभी यादों की।

A Recipe I Inherited From My Grandmother #WriteAPageADay #pebbleinwaterswrites @blogchatter

 A recipe that I inherited from my grandmother.

If you want a method, it is important to know this first.

That it is a priceless recipe.

Whoever gets it once, then understand that life has become like a very tasty dish.

Its sweet fragrance will make every moment pleasant.

The one who tastes it once, it will be as if intoxicated.

So know that recipe.

Photo credit: Karon Elliott Edleson on Visualhunt

You can give any name to that recipe.

Add as many of these as you want.

The words should come from the heart of the speaker and touch the heart of the listener. 

A smile that has the power to convert anger into love. 

Such magic in hand that can make every dish unmatched.

Have so much faith on life that even if the death comes, then first it bows down and salute.

These ingredients keep my mind very clear.

And live life in such a way that there remains no element of jealousy.

I call it the recipe of life prescribed by my grandmother.

When Someone Was Kind To Me #WriteAPageADay #pebbleinwaterswrites @blogchatter

When someone was kind to me.

When I was strong.  

Then, that period was a bit strange.  

Every moment of life was intense.  

Every dream had wings.

Sky was always full of colorful birds. 

Every beautiful bird had it's own sweet sound.

Whenever I looked in the mirror, it all looked good.

The shore was always visible even in the storm.

Even the stubborn waves were always under my influence.

Though there were thousands of difficulties.  But at that time harshest of it was just a simple puzzle game.

Photo credit: Vicki's Nature on Visualhunt.com

When someone was kind to me.

It was so easy to even touch the sky.

I knew nothing but just fly high.

It was a completely different environment.  Forests, mountains, rivers, or deserts.

My name was everywhere.

Every result was in my own hands.

That too was a period.

A golden period. 

When someone was kind to me.

What was that period?

What was that period?

Where is that gone now?

Where are those moments now?

I could never understand - why?  

Who was it that was kind to me?

Now, everything is a bargain here.

Can't it be that this year it becomes the same as before?

When someone was kind to me.

My Favorite Poem #WriteAPageADay #pebbleinwaterswrites @blogchatter

 My favorite poem?  Surely, there cannot be only one.  There are many.  Some got molded with age and are no longer a favorite.  Age has no effect on some.  Those poems were my favorite then, and I still love them as much today.  My early favorite poetry writers are Faiz Ahmed Faiz, Amrita Pritam, Rumi, Gulzar, Agyeya.  It just doesn't happen here.  there are more.  

Photo credit: Thomas Cizauskas on VisualHunt

Here's apoem by Rumi:

All through eternity

Beauty unveils His exquisite form

in the solitude of nothingness;

He holds a mirror to His Face

and beholds His own beauty.

he is the knower and the known,

the seer and the seen;

No eye but His own

has ever looked upon this Universe.

His every quality finds an expression:

Eternity becomes the verdant field of Time and Space;

Love, the life-giving garden of this world.

Every branch and leaf and fruit

Reveals an aspect of His perfection-

They cypress give hint of His majesty,

The rose gives tidings of His beauty.

Whenever Beauty looks,

Love is also there;

Whenever beauty shows a rosy cheek

Love lights Her fire from that flame.

When beauty dwells in the dark folds of night

Love comes and finds a heart 

entangled in tresses.

Beauty and Love are as body and soul.

Beauty is the mine, Love is the diamond.

They have together

since the beginning of time-

Side by side, step by step.

I swear, since seeing Your face,

the whole world is fraud and fantasy

The garden is bewildered as to what is leaf

or blossom. The distracted birds

can’t distinguish the birdseed from the snare.

A house of love with no limits,

a presence more beautiful than venus or the moon,

a beauty whose image fills the mirror of the heart.

A short poem by Faiz :

Speak, for your lips are free

Speak, for your tongue is still yours

Your upright body belongs to you

Speak, for your soul still is yours

A poem by Amrita Pritam :

I will meet you yet again

How and where

I know not

Perhaps I will become a

figment of your imagination

and maybe spreading myself

in a mysterious line

on your canvas

I will keep gazing at you.

Perhaps I will become a ray

of sunshine to be

embraced by your colours

I will paint myself on your canvas

I know not how and where —

but I will meet you for sure.

Maybe I will turn into a spring

and rub foaming

drops of water on your body

and rest my coolness on

your burning chest

I know nothing

but that this life

will walk along with me.

When the body perishes

all perishes

but the threads of memory

are woven of enduring atoms

I will pick these particles

weave the threads

and I will meet you yet again.

A poem by Gulzar :

In a billion years, when

The sun’s fire dwindles

And ash blows across its surface

When the moon will no longer wane

And the land not rise

When like a cold, burnt-out piece of coal

This earth revolves, lost in its gyre,

Trailing a dying sepia glow

I think then

If a poem written on a piece of paper

Was to waft along

And perchance land on the sun,

The sun would ignite again!

A poem by Agyeya:

“the bird flew –

a tremble, then

at peace

was the leaf.”

Now, the question comes why do I like these poems and other such kind of poems. There's something unique in them that touches heart, mind, and soul together. Every time I read, if gives me a fresh layer of understanding. These are thought provoking and intriguing. In a very few lines these convey a deep and mindful message. 

Those Moments #MyFriendAlexa #pebbleinwaterswrites #poetry

Many years ago,
during our childhood,
we met for the first time.
I don't know what flashed in your mind,
in the foggy face of the evening,
what did you feel, that
you secretly held my hand
very innocently
and we sat down in a corner, on the terrace boundary,
silently,
without any effort of listening or understanding
the silence between us,
and within.

Someone came and asked you
"What's going on?"
you answered innocently
"Oh! I thought it was him."
I still remember that long time,
which, in a few moments,
said a lot, so silently,
and then vanished in a void.

Do you remember that till now?

If yes, call me
from your window sill
shake the branch of stuck flowers.


Another memory of yours
emerged,
same childhood,
me and you,
outside a room,
stuck to
the window bars
in the back lane
holding with innocent hands
peeping inside with
utter silence, and astonishing eyes
soaked in the aquarium kept in the room,
having different colors
of little fish
dancing in a rhythm.
How long we stood there,
mesmerized, I do not remember,
when my eyes turned away from the fish
and got stuck on your face.
Life became finer in those moments.
I could see
colorful fish
on your face, in your eyes,
wavy and glittery.

Do you remember?
That was our second
and the last meeting.
If you also still remember,
go to your window
having flowers outside,
just shake the twigs lightly
and the flowers that have fallen on the ground,
place them in a corner,
by the wall,
and let
those flowers dry,
I will wait
to meet you,
or lose.

All three of us together,
at our respective places,
will wait.

I neither remember your face,
nor your name.
But I still remember those little caring
hands and that innocent touch.
That silence and those colorful fish
on your face.

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मुस्कुराते रहिए - #ghazal #ग़ज़ल #हिन्दी

खुश रहिए ना रहिए, मुस्कुराते रहिए।

किसी भी हाल में रहिए, मुस्कुराते रहिए।।

क्या कहा, हाल यहाँ हो गया बेहाल आपका?

यकीं करे ना करे कोई, मुस्कुराते रहिए।।

कत्ल करने का शौक़ रखते हैं अगर आप।

खंजर की नहीं ज़रूरत, मुस्कुराते रहिए।।

अटका था कोई अश्क पुराना जो बह गया।

मकाँ हो गया फ़िर खाली, मुस्कुराते रहिए।।

खामोशी हुआ तकाज़ा, जो रिश्ते हुए कमज़ोर।

ये वक़्त की है मार, मुस्कुराते रहिए।।

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Xenagogue - Where Are You? #poetry #BlogchatterA2z

I am continuously searching for, 

My continuity in this slowed down, 

World that has almost come to a, 

Standstill and I feel like lost totally, 

As if somebody blindfolded me and, 

Left me in an unknown territory, 

Where even the known faces look, 

Unknown. I stand alone. Fearful.

Frightened. All of a sudden tears, 

Start pouring out without any pain, 

When I start finding out the reasons, 

Of painless tears flowing through, 

Years and the tearless pains in the, 

Looms of my mind losing a track of,

The one I had always around me,

Who used to be my light in the dark, 

My Xenagogue.

Photo credit: Rod Waddington on VisualHunt

Life was not so isolated ever in the, 

Past where even the encrypted, 

Eruptions were never so strange to, 

Everybody knowing the fact that, 

Behind every complex situation, 

There is a simple solution to keep, 

Life moving smooth sailing through, 

Hardships sooner or later because, 

Somebody somewhere around was, 

There to hold the hand and show, 

Right path in a very natural way, 

Even if I was standing there in, 

Entangled and estranged roads of, 

Life I was never too down and, 

Drowned as it has become now, 

Because of breathlessness and, 

Losing my Xenagogue. 

I am not sure if I will be back on, 

Track after losing all my hopes, 

Getting every single prayer lost, 

In vain not resisting my pains and,

Disdainful feelings wondering in, 

Mind that has forgotten to regain, 

Back with the power of prayers, 

Mindfulness and meditation now, 

Fearing every moment on slippery, 

Muddy path that is so uncertain of, 

Potholes and puddles underneath, 

Making every step full of surprises,

Every step I take I pray to get back, 

That time when things were not, 

That bad even though troublesome, 

Times were there but not that, 

Painful, tearful, and fearful because, 

Every step I had my Xenagogue. 

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Unfold All Prayers #poetry #BlogchatterA2z

Unfold All yours prayers

Stored and saved all those years

Right since childhood.

Unfold all your prayers.

Unfold all your prayers

Not for yourself alone

But for the sake of everybody.

Unfold all your prayers. 

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Unfold all your prayers

Tell everybody else to do the same

Every whisper matters.

Unfold all your prayers. 

Unfold all your prayers

Folded hands, closed eyes

Ignite as many hopes as possible.

Unfold all your prayers. 

Unfold all your prayers

Every human effort falling short

Release all powers against death. 

Unfold all your prayers.

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Quirky Q #BlogchatterA2z #poetry

What if I call you my querquedule? 

I will become your counterpart, 

with a broad white stripe, 

from eye to nape.

If you become a quark and I, 

an antiquark, 

We both can live together, 

in this universe as quarkonium. 

First time I saw you, 

you became my quaaltagh, 

Everytime, 

Everyday. 

We both make a good quader

We never have to figure out, 

if there's anything better in life, 

than you and me? 

Photo credit: S!nny on Visualhunt.com

We meet at a quadrivium

and then there was no turning back, 

We had only one path ahead, 

Path of unity. 

When you told we are together

for only a few days, 

I made every second of that

a quadragesimal.

As long as you are with me, 

it's all quaff-tide. 

Whether you agree to it, 

or not. 

Your love is the biggest, 

and the only one

Quandorum in my life, 

nothing more nothing less. 

You can see very well, 

all the time I am 

Quaquaversal, 

Filled with your love. 

The moment that, 

love of yours go missing, 

I just go, 

Quaumsy.

During those moments, 

Every situation for me, 

becomes, 

Quavery-Mavery. 

You were, are, and will remain, 

my quean, 

And I forever yours

Quean-crazed. 

Before you even think of, 

calling me, 

I will be there, 

Quicksticks. 

With you in my life, 

What else I need, 

I am okay with

Quidamity. 

Now, for me, it really, 

doesn't matter, what I like, 

What I don't, 

It's just quicquidlibet. 

When it's you, 

with me, 

nothing is, 

Quiddle. 

When you are not around, 

I’m so confused, 

And lost, that every moment is, 

Quidnunc. 

Your eyes are so full, 

And I am thirsty for life, 

I am just

Quifting, every moment. 

Your eyes are nothing

But deep oceans

Whenever I dived in

I Quobbled. 

The whole world is

Busy in

Quomodocunquize, and I 

In you. 

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कल करेंगे बात - गज़ल #BlogchatterA2Z #ghazal #ग़ज़ल

कल करेंगे बात आज रहने दे,

आज तेरे हुस्न के आशिक़ हैं बहुत।

जिसको देखें तेरी तारीफ़ बांधे बैठा है, 

तमाम महफ़िल में तेरे चर्चे हैं बहुत,

हरएक नूर फीका है तेरे नूर के आगे,

तेरे नूर के आगे सब बेनूर हैं बहुत।

ये अच्छी बात तेरे हिस्से में हैं 'आज', 

जितने भी हों, 'कल' भी आने हैं बहुत।

इस आज के होते कल को भूल ना जाना, 

उस कल के तोहफे भी मिलने हैं बहुत।

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कल भी महफिलें तो होंगी मगर कोई और,

उन महफिलों में आशिक़ भी होने हैं बहुत।

तब मगर तेरा हुस्न पड़ा होगा कहीं फीका सा,

तेरे ही ना होंगे यूँ तो होने ज़रूर हैं चर्चे बहुत।

जैसे तू आज है कल कोई और होगा नूर का टुकड़ा,

कल तुझे ही सताने ये आज के खयाल आयेंगे बहुत।

तारीफें कल भी होंगी, मगर किसी और की,

तू है? कहाँ है? ये सोचने वाले ना होने हैं बहुत।

ये आज के तोहफ़े तो सहेज कर रख जितने भी,

कल जो मिलने हैं वो होने सिर्फ़ दर्द हैं बहुत।

कल मैं आऊंगा तेरे पास एक दोस्त का कंधा बन के,

तू करना दर्द का साँझा, मेरे कंधे मज़बूत हैं बहुत।

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Jalfrezi #poetry #BlogchatterA2z #jalfrezi

Nobody could cook the way he could - Love Jalfrezi. 

His recipe is an exceptional secret,

Everybody knows the ingredients, 

Yet, nobody the exact style. 

Every time he puts fresh emotions, feelings, words, and expressions, 

And makes it perfect Spicy and suitable for diet.

That is his Love Jalfrezi.

The way he serves, nobody can, 

You never know how healthy it is, 

It could be overloaded with the flirty cream, 

Before you could think of that, 

The delicacy would hook your heart. 

That is his Love Jalfrezi.

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Though it is supposed to be dry, 

It is not, and by the time, 

You realize that,

It's too late.

By that time, your heart is, 

Stir fried so graciously, 

That you feel there on, 

the Top of the world. 

That's his Love Jalfrezi.

This is first of its kind, 

Where you are the taster, 

And you are the dish, 

Enjoying your own portions, 

Bit by bit. 

That's his Love Jalfrezi. 

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फ़ुरसतिया - एक कविता #BlogchatterA2z #हिन्दी #कविता #hindipoetry #hindi

कुछ ख़ास नहीँ है करने को बस फ़ुरसतिया रहे हैं।

इस दहलाने वाले माहौल में दिल को बहला रहे हैं।।

जानते हैं हालांकि ये कोशिश नाकाम है और रहेगी।

फिर भी खुद को इन्हीं बातों से महफ़ूज़ करा रहे हैं।।

तुम कहते हो सब ठीक है पर जानते हो कि नहीँ है।

ये हालात ही ऐसे हैं लगातार कमज़ोर बना रहे हैं।।

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झगड़ने की कोई वज़ह भी तो हो या फिर ऐसे ही।

बेवजह अंधेरे में जुगनू की रोशनी से भरमा रहे हैं।।

ये जो कहते हैं अपने को मसीहा ये करो ये ना करो।

वक़्त का फायदा उठा कर सब को बरगला रहे हैं।।

तुम भी और हम भी यूँ तो जानते हैं वक़्त खराब है।

और कुछ है भी नहीं सो इसी का साथ निभा रहे हैं।।

चेहरे की मायूसियों को देखने की कोशिशें फिजूल।

चेहरे के हर रंग को अब महज सब से छुपा रहे हैं।।

अब क्या बताऊँ ये फ़ुरसतियाना क्या फ़ुरसतियाना।

एक उम्मीद है जब कहें अच्छे से फ़ुरसतिया रहे हैं।।

This post is powered by Blogchatter. I’m participating in #BlogchatterA2Z - 2021

Collars - A Double Murder #poetry #BlogchatterA2z @blogchatter

She gripped my collars with both her hands, 

So tightly, 

That we both suffocated to death, 

Because of breathlessness.

We were standing on a cliff, 

So narrow to accommodate even two feet, 

Her feet were on mine, 

I would have been completely out of balance, 

But for her.

We have been here before, 

Many times, 

Just she and I, 

To test our closeness, 

And a little space of selfishness, 

Between the two of us.

Many times, 

I tried to get her too close, 

In an attempt to kill selfishness, 

But we both were selfish enough, 

To let her stay freely in that closeness.

Climbing on this cliff is an art, 

Which she taught me, 

She was an expert, 

I was a rookie, 

Now we both are experts in zooming-in and zooming-out.

I inhaled my cigar so intensely, 

That my chest started paining, 

I had no other option than to spit all my venom, 

On her face, 

She just turned blue from pink.

I never knew, 

One can be murdered just by holding collars, 

That was so easy, 

But now it was useless, 

It was too late to run back the time.

This was the only shirt, 

She gifted me on our first kiss, 

Tongue to tongue, 

And before I could guess, 

Transferred her poison pouch in my mouth.

 

Photo credit: Ted's photos - For Me & You on Visualhunt.com

She never found a reason to gigil, 

I never found a reason to love, 

But still we both lived together, 

As two strangers with two hearts and one brain, 

Stashed in a single body.

We were standing on that cliff, 

Squeezed too close not for love but fear, 

Had there been a little more space, 

I would have never let her come too close, 

Now I understood why she brought me here.

She wanted me to close my eyes with my mouth open and tongue out,

She wanted to plant our second kiss tongue to tongue, 

She pulled me in,

I pushed her out, 

And we both lost balance.

I would have survived if she had not gripped my collars before falling from that steep height,

I had enough time to listen to my heart to unzip my collars and let her fall,

But mind was common, and I had already done a blunder of our first kiss, 

I had to suffocate to death with her,

Because she was my alter ego with her collars on me.

This post is powered by Blogchatter. I’m participating in #BlogchatterA2Z - 2021

#PhotoMemory: haiku

Memories burnt,
with your body years ago.
Life still. Photographed.

कौन है? - एक कविता

कौन है ?
जो मेरे अस्तित्व का हिस्सा है
और मुझे ही परास्त करने की होड़ में रहता है
मेरे ही साथ रहता है
लेकिन, न सुनता है
ना ही कुछ कहता है
एक मस्त हाथी की भांति
अपनी ही मौज में रहता है।

कौन है ?
कब से जानना चाहता हूँ
कौन बताएगा?
बाहर इतना शोर है
अंदर संपूर्ण मौन है।

कौन है ?
जो देखकर भी अनदेखा करता है
दिल के सर्द कोनों को
शब्दों की आंच से सेका करता है।

अनभिज्ञ नहीं हूँ मैं
इतना तो जानता हूँ
जो भी है
मेरे अंदर है
मेरा ही हिस्सा है।

शायद ये वो शब्द हैं
जो मेरे ज़हन में
तो रहते हैं
मगर अपने अर्थ तक
पहुँचने का रास्ता
भूल गए ,
या सही से पहचान ही
नहीं पाए।

कौन है ?
जो  शब्दों  की भीड़ में भी
अर्थ की मानिंद असहाय है,
मौन है।

Good Mornings To Gold Mornings #Colgate360GoldMornings

My mantra on how to turn good mornings into gold mornings

Poetry: Good Mornings to Gold Mornings #Colgate360GoldMornings

I have my mantra to turn good mornings into gold mornings. Do you have yours?

Photo credit: Frank Wuestefeld via VisualHunt / CC BY-NC-SA

Wake up in the morning

as early as possible.

Look at the vigor and radiance

on the glowing Sun.

Look at the zeal 

to give its warmth 

to you on Earth.

There is always a smile

on the face of the Sun.

Whenever you feel that warmth

Whenever you feel that smile

just think of getting some of it

turning your

Good Mornings to Gold Mornings

Think of #Colgate360Mornings.

Think of bringing warmth and smile 

in someone's life.

Photo credit: mtchm via Visualhunt.com / CC BY-NC-ND

The distance between

Earth and Sun
is no constraint in

bonding of

unshattered love,

unrestricted warmth,

undisclosed passion,

and

undying relation.

Save your smiles.

The more you give,

the more you get.

Saving is not retaining,

it is to give more.

I ensure to sync my eyes, 

body language, words, and smile

so that nothing appears fake

because

nothing is fake.

I know the beauty

lies within.

I ensure to turn my

Good Mornings to Gold Mornings.

So whenever I see you smiling

or whenever I smile,
I think of #Colgate360Mornings.

Photo credit: munna-shiv nagar via Visual hunt / CC BY-ND

I don't know if you know
It takes a little extra courage

it takes a little extra energy

to understand that there is 

no hurdle, no obstacle in life.

It is just the way you take it.

When Sun decides to spread its light,

The light goes as far as you see.

The warmth is as deep as you feel.

It all depends on you

I take a hurdle

as a new challenge,

a new opportunity.

Rise like Sun in the life of others.

Bring light, smile, warmth, and energy

along with you.

Even when the Sun is setting,

it gives a promise, an assurance,

a trust, to come back again

next morning.

It rises with a smile

It sets with a smile.

The rising has its warmth and assurance,

the setting has its promise and hope.

Be like a Sun.

That is what I have learned.

That is my mantra

on how to turn

Good Mornings into Gold Mornings.

That is what brings a smile on my face

And whenever I get a smile on my face

I think of #Colgate360GoldMornings.

This thought brings more smiles,

the smiles bring more thoughts.

Life goes on like this.

An everyday rise,

An everyday set.

Photo credit: CaptPiper via Visualhunt.com / CC BY-NC

Haiku: First Crush

This is a haiku on title First Crush

haiku is a Japanese term typically a three line poetry

A haiku is a 3-line thought on any transient moment encompassing nature

Introduction: This is a haiku on First Crush. A haiku is a Japanese term typically a three line poetry. The 3 lines comprise of any transient moment encompassing nature.

Photo credit: Hani Amir via Visualhunt.com / CC BY-NC-ND

Unity of sperm and egg

First breath bringing life

the crudest teacher.

Voice of Silence

Holding my hand
He told me
to follow.
I could feel
the music
while
neither of us
uttering a word.

We walked
quite a long distance,
a path
that was strange
for me,
but not scary
or unpleasant.
In fact,
every step was
a scale of music,
a continuum of rhythm,
a word of prayer.

He kept walking,
I kept following.

He led
all the way
as if a king.
I followed
all along
as if a servant.
He never let me down.
I never lost
faith in him.
He always saved me.
I always felt protected.
He always commanded.
I always obeyed.
It was all in sync.

All these years
I kept following him.
All these years
he has never
let me down.
The long path of life,
The voice of silence,

He is my heart.
I am his soul.

Image source: thehistory-project.org

Dasvidaniya 2015 #Lessonslearntin2015 #TalesOf2015

Dasvidaniya 2015.

Dasvidaniya 2015.
May you live long in the hearts,
May you stay alive even if gone,
Let me jot down the best
of you,
Let me recollect the
long lasting lessons,
I learnt during
my 365 days
living inside you.

I lived inside you
for 365 days.
In return
you are going to live
inside me
for my all years to come.
This is my first #Lessonslearntin2015.

52 cards in a standard deck
of playing cards.
52 weeks in a year,
If I treat each week as a year,
I completed 52 in 2015.
52 is an untouchable number.
52 is a noncototient.
52 is the 6th Bell number.
52 is the atomic number of tellurium,
52 is the Saros number of the solar eclipse.
I have become the white key on Piano.
This is my second #Lessonslearntin2015.

27 years of journey
of 9 to 6 ended.
A new beginning,
with a lot of new
opportunities.
Now work is not a constraint
of time.
Now time is not a  contraint
of work.
Instead of reporting to
anybody else,
I have started reporting
to myself.
The third #Lessonslearntin2015
came this way.

Passion for books
increased.
Books have always
given more to me
than the time I spent
with them.
Books give long lasting
impressions
in mind and on heart.
My fourth #Lessonslearntin2015.

I started exploring
myself
differently
in different ways.
I have discovered
myeself.
There is always a lot
hidden inside
that one is not able
to explore
during lifetime.
This is my fifth #Lessonslearntin2015.

This is my list of
lessons learnt in 2015.
I am sure
everyone had
a good learning.
Learning is
the most important
factor of life.
Learning is
a never ending
process. Learning
never goes waste.
Learning
grows your
wisdom.

My hopes and asiprations
remain the same
as in previous years.
I hope to become
a little better,
Contribute
a little more to the society.
I aspire never to become best
Because when you become best
you are left with no further
destination.
You become standstill,
with no path left further.

There is a little trepidation
Another year is gone
swiftly converting
every moment of
present to past,
bringing future
nearer and nearer.
Another set of memories
added.
A feeling of
some great moments
snatched away.

Resolutions are
good to make
but it is unfair
to kill
an unborn child
it is unfair to
drop
resolutions made.

There is a lot learnt,
experienced
and left behind.
That is a lot
in store
further.
End of one year
is the beginning
of another.

I’m sharing my #TalesOf2015 with BlogAdda.

#lostpassion Have I Lost My Passion For Life?

Have I lost my passion for life?

It is said that age has nothing to do with young or old. I find it correct. You are young or old not by age but by your passion for life. You are young as long as you are able to recreate yourself on your own. When you don't require any substitutes. If you are able to recreate yourself you are able to be happy. Then you don't need to look around for a dose of happiness. It comes from within, automatically, unstoppably, and instantly. There are many instances to share, I think in everyone's life.

When you took my hand
in your hand
I let it go switftly
without thinking twice
because
it came instantly
from within
The touch itself spoke of
sanity.
We sat for a few minutes
hand in hand
just a general talk
and then we split.
You on your ladder
climbing up and up,
I on my path.
We never met again...
Those few minutes
have become an everlasting
memory in our heart
as fresh as it was
yesterday,
No guilt, no penitance.
That moment was on top of everything
at that moment.

When I dropped my shoe
on the way
sitting on the bicycle
You never got angry knowing this
reaching home,
not even a single word of untrust.
Just reminded me to be careful
for new sandals and shoes.
I was on top of everything else
for you
at that moment.

Many moments like this
are preserved in my heart
and in the hearts of those
with whom those precious
moments were spent.
Howsoever small, those moments
are bigger than life size.

Long time back
it stopped happening.
I lost the meaning
and value
of those moments.
No new such kind of moments
are created now.
Or even if there are,
they are evolving not at that
frequency.

Am I losing my passion for life - #lostmypassion