Khwaish
Anjani ye khwab ki duniya,
le jaati hai sapno ki raho mein,
Adrishya hai jo vastavikta mein ,
ojhal sa na vo lagta hai
Main khwab sanjoti rehti hu,
vo dor thaamti rehti hu.
Kab honge poore sapne mere?
Kab hogi barish Armano ki?
Kab khulenge seep ye moti ke?
Kab hogi aashaon ki poornta?
Is dor ko na koi kheeche meri,
ye dor hai mere sapno ki.
Ab sabra nahi is chahat ka,har poonji mere jeevan ki,
nirbhar hai ab ek aasha par .
Jyoti ye mere aankho ki
bas kwhaab dekhti rehti hai.
Bal hai kitna is umeed mein
Hai dor meri kuch seedhi si.
Ab jaana hai door bahut
Thamne us chhor ko,
Jo ab tak hai bas dhundhli si
Kuch dor se meri khichti si
Sooraj ki dikhti kirno mein
Taaron ki chamak se vidyut si
Hai chandara ki sheet ka kope usmein
Aur nadi ki dhaar si behti si
Ye dor hai mere armaano ki
Khwabon ko such ye kartu si.
Jul 24, 2009
A phase back again
.... when i don’t know, what to do with the life given to me. Work at office is no more hectic , and it gives me an ample time to get confused about ways to spend my time on this planet. There’s one thing really good about having an extremely hectic schedule at office, one has no time thinking about anything else. I get kind of lost in the world of coding, defect fixing and calls and mails and meetings,that’s where the whole life revolves around. it' s not that i love doing this, but it is what i get paid for. Only when the hangover of this lost world is shredded, I realize, “ what the hell am I trying to do? Next, what comes into picture is this post.
There 's a melancholic feeling which takes a toll over my mind.I endlessly stare at the blank walls, trying to figure out ... the crimpy path ahead, which does not even promise me a slow crawl towards a blissfull living. I peep inside myself , just to find that the passion to do things which i want is fading away, i have forced myself,to get satisfied with this mundane existence.
The glitches which I get after the long hours of staring at the walls, then need to be done away with , that’s when a dozen movies, Gmail pings and pile of books get ready to be absorbed in my empty brain. The second option for keeping those scary thoughts at bay hcomes as ->
I get hyperactive , early mornings become a norm, I try getting more organized , my age old diary, with each page carving a different idea for a more satisfied living, gets active, ready to listen to my new plans .
The more i try to run away from the sepulchral inner voice, the more it traps me.
The idea of a better life, now demands, security, more than risk, there is a fear of losing more than before each time, passing years seem to have doused the passion within.
But there is a me, which wants to come out of this shell of commonness.There's a small child within, which dreams of a fairy land, and waits for the magic of life to unsheathe itself.
If only I could get back to those reckless childhood days, where blogs and thoughts didn’t make sense, I just wish I could go back to the days when I was a little kid , jumping around carelessly, freely without trying to figure out, ways to lead a happy ,satified life.
There 's a melancholic feeling which takes a toll over my mind.I endlessly stare at the blank walls, trying to figure out ... the crimpy path ahead, which does not even promise me a slow crawl towards a blissfull living. I peep inside myself , just to find that the passion to do things which i want is fading away, i have forced myself,to get satisfied with this mundane existence.
The glitches which I get after the long hours of staring at the walls, then need to be done away with , that’s when a dozen movies, Gmail pings and pile of books get ready to be absorbed in my empty brain. The second option for keeping those scary thoughts at bay hcomes as ->
I get hyperactive , early mornings become a norm, I try getting more organized , my age old diary, with each page carving a different idea for a more satisfied living, gets active, ready to listen to my new plans .
The more i try to run away from the sepulchral inner voice, the more it traps me.
The idea of a better life, now demands, security, more than risk, there is a fear of losing more than before each time, passing years seem to have doused the passion within.
But there is a me, which wants to come out of this shell of commonness.There's a small child within, which dreams of a fairy land, and waits for the magic of life to unsheathe itself.
If only I could get back to those reckless childhood days, where blogs and thoughts didn’t make sense, I just wish I could go back to the days when I was a little kid , jumping around carelessly, freely without trying to figure out, ways to lead a happy ,satified life.
Jul 9, 2008
Teach India
Lucky do I feel , when I see a seven year old kid, slogging day and night to sweep the streets, to earn a one day meal,for I was born with a shinning luck, to have enjoyed my childhood days, in luxury. Shackles of poverty did not take away, the most cherishable moments of my life. It did not forbid me from dreaming to fly, create a world of my dreams, to live in my world of dreams.Education was the magic wand given to me , to earn my lavish living. It makes me thank my stars to have provided me with the MAGIC Of EDUCATION,when I see the little girl on the street,with those bright eyes, looking at the sky and wondering, if life can ever be as charming as that of the kids in polished shoes and white uniforms, rushing to school, with a bunch of coloured books? "I wish I could go to school", is her cherished dream .
The song below is an innocent wish of this little girl, it's a request to each of us, for, she cannot afford to go to a school. Do contribute your 2 hrs/week for the teach India Initiative.
http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/India/What_is_Teach_India/articleshow/3204521.cms
Teach me Please!
I wish to fly like a bird in the sky.
Let not my bondage, to my birth become, the destiny of my life.
The sun seems bright, and the stars at my sight, they give me a hope to fly in the sky.
I wish to learn, I wish to know,
they say it’s learning, it’s knowledge and thoughts,
they give you feathers to fly in the sky, and think of a life with an angel by your side.
I don’t know what, it is to read.
I don’t know what, it is to write.
They say it earns you bread to eat
and feed you for months and months on feast.
Teach me to read & teach me to write, for I have a reason to learn them all right.
It is a lovely place, to sing, play and dance.
They say it’s a school, which makes things all right.
For they teach you to read, think & write,
They make you get the money to buy,
a dozen of candy and cakes every night.
I won’t ask for a Barbie doll,
I won’t ask for a sugar candy
Just teach me, how to play with words, it’s numbers, which I want to toss.
Mummy can’t buy me those feathers to fly.
Daddy can’t take me high to the sky.
For everything comes for a cost so high.
They say I need to pay, to fly so high.
The words are costly, so are the numbers,
So take all my sugar candies, the little doll and my new frock.
Give me words and numbers to think.
I want to learn, I want to know.
Something more than the garbage bins, the dirty lanes and the dirty broom.
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