Say a Little Prayer! A compelling read.

 

Om shanti…
Om shanti…
Om.
Chant. Recite. Scream.
Scream Loud.

Hello, anyone in there?
Can you hear me?
Its me. Hellos…

Ever wondered does God hear us? Do our prayers reach him? Since childhood our deep-rooted cultures taught us to pray. Prayers upon the first rise, prayers for the first morsel, prayers before bed. Prayers say it all.

‘Prayers’ – the tiny messengers to God.

From my kidding days to greying today, I’ve mastered my prayers thoroughly. As time grew my mental maths got much weaker but my prayers grew larger and stronger. Unshakable pillars engraved inside me, I guess.

 Truly undisputed. Aren’t they?

What is a Prayer?
It often makes me ponder. On a simplified note I’d rather say its my heartfelt convo with my 3.00 am buddy – God. Also it could be some kinda group talkathon which reels loud mantras and shlokas in bold chants. Is it a propaganda too of the societal rights and the wrongs we follow. Can prayer be ‘The spiritual habitat?’

Can a prayer compel me to look deep within and know the real me?

Prayer with Technology
Today, everything comes at our comfort lap. We need not seek hibernation in Himalayas and meditate with penance for days and months to reach out to God. Google Apps saved us. Our lives are much sorted. Technology helps us bridge the gap. Prayer is more of an User experience (UX) today. With the flexibility in its nature it offers an adaptable interface. One can program it and re-program it much to his/her suitable needs. All it takes is a simple tweet with a send button no matter where you are. The scores pomp a million views with a thousand likes on your desktop. I’m sure it has reached the palmtop of God too and now your prayer ought to be answered in a quickie.

 Are we nurturing a generation of mockery to follow the wisdom of Ai rather than the power of our own heartfelt?

I am stalking God
I follow God everywhere. Why? Because I fear. My fear is gripped tight underneath my heels and takes me places far and near. The dilemma of ‘What ifs’ is a choco-block in my head. Am I inviting some bad episode? Its like a game. One rule missed and the bad omen gets a ‘life’. The fear allows me to trade with God. Commerce is in my DNA. Bargains and exchanges become the primary oaths of my prayer.

 Am I challenging the very being of God and the immortal strength in prayers?

I am an Atheist
I don’t pray. I don’t believe in it. I don’t know its type. The non-prayer is my real type – my true religion. That’s my pattern. Prayer ain’t in captivity but in liberation. Prayer lies in a simple connect with the nature. The painter is an atheist. He hyms a prayer with his abstract. He worships the hues of his palette. His picture paints beautiful dots with God. The writer is an atheist. His pen conveys volumes of meaningful and desired conversations with God. The yogi is an atheist. His meditation is a path of zen to God. The warrior is an atheist. Courage is his release. And the strength to knock life back in its boots is his sole path to God.

To me prayer is what I send as a signal wave in nature and in return mother nature gifts it back to me. Prayer is in chaos and love, both. Its in a gentle smile, a warm hug and a cheeky peck of simple love. It’s a loud unheard voice of my inner silence. It’s the small humdrum of my soulspeak. Prayer is the faith of my will. It’s a discipline that I strictly follow obey its rules by heart. Its in the sublime power to submit to the light of my inner self and come in unison with the outer cosmos. Prayer is to heal me with my rights and wrongs of life. I call it my safety belt – my very own being.

I ring a prayer everyday. Do you?

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Zindagi, tu kyon khaamosh hai…

Celebrating National Poetry Month – ‘April’

Aaj mausam tanha hai,
Pal kuch khafa hai,
Thodi si pehchaan toh do.
Zindagi, tu kyon khaamosh hai…
Mohobbat se aaj ishq hai!

Shabdon ne racha mayajaal,
Mann phir bhi na de sukoon,
Aitbaar teri nishaani ka.
Zindagi, tu kyon khaamosh hai…
Sile hoth bole nayi kahaani!

Banjaaro ki basti badi,
Dil-da-badshah ek,
Pyaar di sachi talaash.
Zindagi, tu kyon khaamosh hai…
Intezaar ki dastak bani deewangi!

Dil tu kyon qaidi hai,
Chodd saath bewafa ka,
Sunn pukar khule aasman ki.
Zindagi, tu kyon khaamosh hai…
Apne hi mohalle se tu fanaa hai!

Ae, zindagi poochoon main aaj,
Aakhir tu kyon khaamosh hai…
Bata, kya tera raaz.

Agar, sawal hai tu.
Toh wajah bhi tu.

Agar, nafrat bani tu.
Toh ulfat bhi tu.

Agar, mazhab rahe tu.
Toh matlab bhi tu.

Agar, mera aks tu.
Toh, chaaya bhi tu.

Agar, dard de tu.
Toh, dawa bhi tu.

Agar, tamashaa bana tu.
Toh, haqueeqat bhi sirf tu.

Tu hai junoon.
Tu hi kare jung.

Ae, zindagi tu kyon khaamosh hai…
Aaj, gulha hawa mein tera shahed hai,
Tujhse hi main rahoon,
Mujh mein hi tu rahe.

Ae, zindagi…
Tu kyon khaamosh hai?

Apna time aayega…

Toasting ‘1st anniversary’ to Ad Passions Infinite – 23/01/18 to 23/01/19.

Beedi poori phookh daali,
Chilum bola; bhai apun bhi tere saath,
Yaad mein nikla sirf dhuan.
Saala, Love yeh kaisa,
Apna time aayega…

Katte pe raha intezaar,
Ek…ich pyaali mein apna pyaar,
Socha aayegi aaj toh bahaar.
Saala, Love yeh kaisa,
Apna time aayega…

Lamp-post ki batti gul,
Gully mein andhera full,
Billo rani banegi bijli.
Saala, Love yeh kaisa,
Apna time aayega…

Signal pe dum mara,
Lal, pili dekhta raha,
Hari pe hui gaadi chalu.
Baap, apni toh ho..re..lli hai shuru.
Saala, Love yeh kaisa,
Apna time aayega…

Gateway se banstand tak chala,
Pathar pe naam bhi likh daala,
Issh…strong banegi apni kahaani.
Saala, Love yeh kaisa,
Apna time aayega…

Apni bhi private gaadi,
Neeli batti wali Auto niraali,
Ek…ich seat pe chipke apun dono,
Aaju-baju bajega no pandu.
Saala, Love yeh kaisa,
Apna time aayega…

Gulab pakda haath mein,
Candle light ka booking dhabe pe,
Darling, pyaar se kha toh lo,
Kya tasty…ichh hai chicken masala.
Saala, Love yeh kaisa,
Apna time aayega…

Johri apni ki jeb ke andar,
Anguthi pahuchi ghar ke bheetar,
Maar hi daala mauke pe chouka,
Tu…ich maangta apun ke dil ko.
Saala, Love yeh kaisa,
Apna time aayega…

Shaadi banayegi apne se,
Kholi liya tere waaste,
Einglis medium ki paltan apunki,
Kya banegi tu ab; meri baiko?
Saala, Love yeh kaisa,
Apna time aayega…

I am the Rebel

Perched on a dark cliff,
Inside the dense woods,
I meet a petite robin,
Donned in an amber hood.

He dives into the deep sea,
Fears no dead waves,
Shores back to n fro,
Anchoring firm on his rising fins.

He braves the scarlet roads,
Masks a warrior demon,
Combats tall in grim battles,
Conquering scars on gliding bows.

The call of silence awakens him,
The sound of dream beckons him,
He is the untamed.
Born now, he is the ‘Rebel.’

To the conviction,
To the faith,
He paints the abstract.
He is the Rebel.

To the passion,
To the cause,
He rides his belief.
He is the Rebel.

To the origin,
To the pattern,
He ain’t lie morbid.
He is the Rebel.

To the price,
To the reward,
He reigns the hat.
He is the Rebel.

To the force,
To the strength,
He masters his choice,
He is the Rebel.

He is guts.
He is glory.
He is legend.
He is the story.
He is the Rebel.

He is substance.
He is existence.
He is freedom.
He is immortal.
He is inside me.
I am the ‘Rebel.’

Nasha! – Love Intoxicated

Dhuaan iss hawa mein,
Mehek teri mere mann mein,
Uff, yeh kya ho gaya,
Benakab hua nasha,
Pyaar ka iss dil mein.

Gulabi rang kyon chaaya…,
Armaan honton se takraya,
Uff, yeh kya mehfil hai,
Bechain hua nasha,
Jazbaaton ka iss khayaal mein.

Jaadu tere husn ka,
Ada meri madhoshi ka,
Uff, yeh kya khoobsoorti hai,
Qayamat hua nasha,
Raat ki iss jawaani mein.

Reshmi toofan aaya,
Aankhon se paigam laya,
Uff, yeh kya masti hai,
Humsafar hua nasha,
Meethe rishton ka iss palkon mein.

Faaslon ka mukam aaya,
Teri umeed ka maahol laya,
Uff, yeh kya kalma padha,
Ishq hua nasha,
Mazahab dhadktein dilon mein.

Mulakat hui jab dard se,
Kashish lipti tere ehsaas se,
Uff, yeh kya bhool hai,
Zindagai hua nasha,
Maseeha dua ka sulagti rooh mein.

 

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