Holiday season

 It’s that time of the year y’all,

when the orange-red leaves wither and fall

 As the summer takes a snooze so deep,

we enter the season of wheeze and sneeze

Hope no one stayed for long, so weary,

and pepped up for the month of  trick or treating.

Roasted turkey, pumpkin pie and much more on the table,

family and friends for thanksgiving dinner, if able.

Snowman, candy cane, carols are sung,

gifts by the tree means the Christmas magic has begun.

The holiday season wraps up this year with joy,

 a path to a new one with more adventures and blessings to enjoy. 

A thanksgiving poem

Let us sing a joyous praise, 

some glasses to toast, we shall raise.

As we approach the end of another year,

Let us celebrate with our families, near and dear.

Gratitude is what our hearts shall bring, 

For the harvests in abundance we reaped since spring

Together at the table with grateful feelings

A thanksgiving dinner with joy, laughter and lots of second servings.

Reflecting back at all the blessings we received,

Our thanks to the lord and everyone who helped us through the pandemic.

Galiyon sa rishtey

Rishtey bhi 

galiyon ki tarah 

Milti hai aur milvaathi hai 

Kabhi pathli, kabhi moti.

Bachte bachate hue 

Idhar udar, yahaan wahaan 

Kuch naye anubhav dilathi hai

Rishtey bhi 

Galiyon ki tarah 

Kabhi chupke 

aur kabhi sandesh ke Saath 

Muddke jati hai

ek doosare se takraathi hai

 Bichadbi jati hai 

Aur phir pata hi nahi chalta 

Kaunsi gali kis taraf chali gayi.

Rishtey bhi hai galiyon ki tarah 

Bachte bachate, idar udar, yahaan wahaan.

आत्मविश्वासी ज़िद्दी लोग

 

चाहे क्यों न खुदा भी करे  उनके जिद्द से नफरत

नफरत करने वाले भी सब्र करना सिखा देते है 

खुदा का खेल भी कुछ अलग नहीं

सब्र के नाम पे कुछ लोगो की ज़िन्दगी बीत जाती है

कहीं बार उन लोगो के ज़िन्दगी में कुछ अच्छा नहीं बनता

ऐसे ही कुछ लोग नास्तिक बन जाते है

और कुछ लोग अपने आप को बदक़िस्मती समाजके रह जाते है

पर कुछ लोग ऐसे भी होते है, जो ज़िद्दी है..

.. ये लोग किसी को दोषी नहीं मानते - न खुद को और न खुदा को..

..क्योंकि  वो कभी आसानी से हार नहीं मानते

चाहे खुदा भी क्यों न करे  उनके जिद्द से नफरत

Missed carriages

She has waited long,

to also be taken along.

She listened to ‘em all,

who told many a tales, tall.

They traveled their journeys,

with splendid views they glee.

Leave thy worries at bay

.. so they all say.

For, her carriage shall also come,

A journey under the Splendid sun.

Several miles astray

Refugeed in sheds of hay.

Wandering many paths

Looking for whats not hath.

sought a carriage after so long

Hears a distant mourning dove’s  song

Oh! she hears the song of misery

Hath she known, days to come so weary.

Wheeled over a rock so huge,

the carriage went down, apart it blew

Oh! her poor soul, it’s not her fault 

Fate has tricked her to stumbled and fall.

Persistence has kept her feet go on

Through many carriages that were missed and gone.

Now she has only a glimpse of hope

Until a miracle to her, if could approach. 

Samay ki darbar

Jawani hai kitni nasheeli

Samay ke darbar me 

jaise ek naachwali 

Naachti hai koobsurat se 

Magar usse yeh aagah nahi 

Uski nashe bhi toh hai utarni 

Aakir hai to Darbar samay ki,

Jahan budappan ki natak bhi hai honi. 

Translation:  

In the theater of time

Youth is intoxicating.

In the court of time,

Like a dancer

Who dances so beautifully 

She is not aware,

that intoxication would also wear out.

After all, in this theater of time,

Where old age will also show it’s talents.

Mountains

It always starts with a dot

Progresses to a circle

And then a sphere

It’s got beautiful curves

Like a paisley

It looks very pretty

Attracts her and others around

It kindles the consciousness

As it raises up like a mountain

Firm and rigid, yet beautiful and strong 

It also builds insecurities 

As someone else’s hands lay on ‘em 

It can also bring her shame

But it’s not her fault.

It’s helping her nurture 

For, there’s no other that’s better. 

The mountains are cracked

Is it what’s underneath it?

It hurts.

It has to be taken off.

It’s no longer beautiful and no longer useful

It is painful to get it off.

It was her identity.