Category Archives: PS’ Poetic Pen

#Post 2 :UnOfficially Her – #nofilter


Rose-tinted glasses

I got down from the car
& walked towards the NREGS Site.
The women wage-seekers till then squatting,
got up in fright.

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As I hopped through the field- dust & sand,
my ‘Attender’ ran behind;
my goggles, a bottle and umbrella in hand.

“Amma! Amma!The sun is blazing hot.
Here, wear this! don’t forget
the fever it last time brought.”

Hesitant, I put on the sun-glasses.
My PA spoke to the workers,
a whisper hushed the masses.

“Madam has come to review your work,
you draw your wages, but duty you shirk.
Your productivity is so low,
as you squat and go.
Don’t you care that Madam will know?”

Beads of sweat trickled down their head,
Beads of sweat on my cheeks now so red.
I fumbled as I admonished them,
feigning anger that had vanished then.

I removed my sun-glasses
& looked them eye to eye.
I didn’t know what to speak & why.

An infant wailed,
inside a made-up swing
hanging from the tree.

Its mother was confused,
whether to quieten it
or pacify me.

Old plastic bottles with muddy waters within,
cuddled up with broken tiffin boxes,
beneath the only tree in the scene.

I started walking back,
my head covered with my saree pallu.
sun-glasses in my hand,
as I forgot to reprimand.

Wait Amma! Wait Amma!! Our vehicle has managed to come half way.”
“But Why ?!? I can walk like all of you do”
No No Amma. It’s not a ‘walking distance’. We’re used to it, but not you.

As I sat in the vehicle & pulled down the window,
smiled slowly, waving at the women- my mind still in limbo.

I gulped down the mineral water,
put the AC on high.
Introspecting the Officer in me,
I heaved an irritated sigh.

May be I should be more ‘practical’.
Feel from the heart, yet work from the head.
My sentimental self is unsuitable,
for the road that I tread.

Lets accept the truth.
At the most,
A compassionate crocodile tear is all I may shed.
But they must toil hard for their daily bread.

If I have to do justice to this job & my people,
I’ve got to work tough & stop feeling feeble.

Yet, as I got down at another
such site for inspection.
Lessons that I had learnt
from self introspection,
Suddenly vanished somewhere,
into the thin air.

I subconsciously removed my sun-glasses again.
doing so somehow I felt I shared their pain.
My saree pallu quickly covered my face.
All ‘Practical’, ‘Rational’ disappeared without a trace.

Now, the unforgiving sun burnt all of us,
sitting with them & fighting my sentimental fuss,
hiding my weird emotion,
beneath a layer of sun-screen lotion…

I reviewed their works with all my might,
shunning my creature comforts,
somehow felt right…

Because as beautiful as it may seem for a while,
rose-tinted glasses sometimes blur the truth.

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Plant a Tree


If you want to become one with the
earth, water, sun and air;
Plant a tree somewhere.

If you want to live beyond your years;
Plant a tree.

If you want to witness empires come and go,
to become a page of history;
Plant a Tree.

If you want to become a story teller, an artist,
a saint or a sculptor;
Plant a Tree.

If you want to become someone’s home,
someone’s shade, someone’s shoulder;
Plant a Tree.

If you want to become a forever learner,
a patient giver, an observant grower;
Plant a Tree.

If you want to become something
beyond you can ever be;
Plant a Tree.

Yes, if you want to stay after you go;
Then Go!
Go Plant a Tree!

4

ज़रा इश्क़ सीखा दो !


एक बात पूछें तुमसे ,

ज़रा दिल पर हाथ रख कर केहना। 
जो इश्क़ हमसे सीखा था,
अब वो किससे करते हो ?
 
जो सीखा था तुमसे ,
वो किसी और से न कभी कर पाए। 
तुमको भूलाने की कोशिश की ,
और बेवजह पछताए। 
 
हमारी लड़ाई में 
हम दोनों ही हार जाते हैं। 
तैश तुम करते हो ,
और तरस हम जाते हैं … 
 
काफी वक़्त जो हो गया ,
वक़्त में बहुत कुछ सा खो गया …
तुम अब याद आते नहीं,
दुनिया से लड़, तुमसे मिल जाने की चाहतें नहीं। 
 
फ़िर भी तुमसे गुफ़्तगू का मोह है !
कुछ बातें ज़रा सी नयी,
बाकी कुछ पुरानी वही !
 
सच कहते हो तुम ,
तुमसे अब वो उलफ़त न रही। 
पर तुमसे जुड़ी हर लम्हे से है। 
 
मुझे अबके तुमसे, कोई प्रीत नहीं। 
पर दस साल पहले के, कुछ पल से है …
 
दस साल में तुम बदले , में बदली ,
न जाने क्या क्या बदल गया !
अगर ज़रा कुछ ठहर गया ,
तो तुमसे बातें करने का जुनून मेरा। 
 
जो पूछते हो तो लो सुनो !
 
तुमसे जो इश्क़ सीखा था,
उसे रोज़ इनसे करने की  ख़्वाहिश करती हूँ ….
मेरी नाकामियां मुझे चुभती  हैं 
और दुनिया हमें देख कहती है ,
‘ इश्क़ करना तो कोई इनसे सीखे !’
 
अब दुनिया को क्या मालूम ,
इश्क़ सीखने सिखाने की चीज़ होती ,
तो अनगिनत ये आरज़ू ,अधूरी क्यों रहती ! 

Love-300x225

~ Stained Glass ~


IMG_20171127_224950_110
Aren’t we all a piece of
stained glass pottery?
Trotting through life,
playing through its lottery.

We begin with a white, worthless,
see-through shard.
Inconspicuous, fragile, off guard!

In the quest to add a liitle value to ourselves,
We pick some colours from the world’s shelves.

We become stained glass-
A cathedral’s window
Or a flower vase.

The light changes us sometimes.
At others we change it to
a spectrum sublime.

We exchange a few glances
with the world.
Some stories we tell.
Some remain untold.

Then one day we break nevertheless!
The colours go with us
in mysterious ways…
Fragile we still were, to all the way there.
Worthy or worthless?
Who cares!

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PS: Metamorphosis of an old neglected vase once inhabited by a moneyplant.
It took refuge under me and I painted it with every colour of my imagination.

Rain kissed


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Rain kissed Clouds,
Too heavy to stay back in the sky,
Too stubborn to give away and fall.

Hanging like uncertainty over fate,
They seek the opportune moment & wait.

They would fall soon,
With their pride crushing,
kissing the ground

Washing away all that was,
All moments from the past.
Some that were lost;
And some that were found.

And then you think,
“What’s the pride worth?
If time swallows this paper,
In its stoic ink…
All in an eternal blink!

Yet! Clouds like fate,
Seek the opportune moment
And wait…

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