Khayaalon se karoon ek sawaal,
Meelon tak itni doori kyon?
Manzil koi dastak de,
Ankahe saare raaz kahe.
Woh meri zidd,
Mera jazba,
Aur junoon.
Jeene ka andaaz woh,
Mar mitne ka khawab bhi woh.
Aisa hi hai woh…
Jigar ke paar,
Jeet ka vaar.
Josh ki lalkaar,
Mann ki pukaar.
Bas aur koi nahi,
Akela woh, akela main.
Hum ladte rahe,
Phir bhi chalte rahe.
Haste haste…
Kabhi woh meri dagar,
Aur main uske nagar.
Aisa mera woh humsafar…
~ Mera Hounsla!
Maangle tu aaj,
Toofani lambi raat.
Buja de saare deepak,
Umeedon ke dwaar.
Jal gayi rasi,
Par bal na tuta.
Chalta rahe kafila,
Bhay naam hai tera.
Shikanj meri itni,
Koshish karta rahoon.
Joh jung mein hai tu,
Toh vaar main bhi karoon.
Tu bhay hai,
Toh main hosla hoon.
Tu le panaah soch mein,
Toh main dil mein basu.
Tu kamzor bana faislon ko,
Main buland awaaz dil ki.
Dagmagaye kabhi tere paiyr,
Main pathar ki ek lakir.
Sunn yaara apne mann ki,
Sirf andar dil ki.
Bhaga yeh bhay ko,
Mita uske ghar ko.
Jala mashaal roshni ki,
Ujaala kar aashiyaane ko.
Darr ka na koi naam,
Bhala uska kya hai kaam.
Rukna nahi,
Aur zukna nahi.
Maut se aage tu nikal,
Zindagi; silsilon ka…
Keval ek naam hai.
No boast to praise,
No toast to raise,
I hit a simple truth,
Feminine… I am.
Feminism is me.
The bold individualism.
The attitude in my sleeves.
The mark of silent attention.
The comfort of my jeans.
The scars on my skin.
Allow me to grow thick and thin.
Enthral bold experiences.
Skill thrilling adventures.
Sail mighty endurances.
Toughen gentle resolves.
Perceive grim battles.
Aim me to stand high and tall.
The womb of world,
Calls me names.
Ripping through shuttering eyes,
My feminism cuts barriers ahead.
For new terrains and green plains.
Feminine… I am.
Feminism is me.
Clutched in shackles of bondage,
Peace is my destination.
Running cold shivers to the spine,
Tranquility is nothing but a perception.
I walk the aisle of fire,
Draining the truth in vain.
My gumboots ran cold in chilly snow,
Warmth is nothing but a perception.
Cold blood baths wet my land,
Loathing cries pain the new widow.
Sacrifice inherits delirium,
Revenge is nothing but a perception.
Violence ain’t any solution,
Vengeance is no justice.
The able mind to strum the right chord,
Happiness is then a real perception.
Happiness strings music,
Music plays harmony,
Harmony bridges freedom,
Freedom unveils salvation,
Salvation is then nothing,
My only ‘true perception.’
Ae musafir…
Ruk zara,
Dekh, yahan…
Thoda wahan bhi…
Aankhen band kar,
Mann ki nazar khol,
Paaoge mujhe,
Meri rooh ko.
Mere ehsaas ko.
Main bani aarzoo,
Main rahoon sach,
Pehchaan mujhe…
Main hoon woh,
Main thodi si ‘Chhapak’.
…Na dekh mera rang,
Na dekh mera roop,
Main pyaari Chhapak,
Keval dekh; mera mann.
Nazar na rakh kayar,
Aankhein na juka sharam si,
Main masoom Chhapak,
Dua kar; zamaana rahe paak.
Andhere ka mooh kaala,
Ujaale pe kyon laga taala,
Main timtimati Chhapak,
Sitaaron sa; mera aashiyana.
Dard ki na koi bhasha,
Satya ki na koi zubaan,
Main adbhut Chhapak,
Insaaf bana; jeevan ka saath.
Phir ek daur aaya,
Hua naya janam,
Mita nishaan kalank ka.
Badal ne bahein kholi,
Hawa ne khuli saans li,
Gun gunati main yunhi boli,
Main thodi si ‘Chhapak’.
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.’
O, lovely damsel, stop…
A faint voice mellowed in wild air.
Tell me thy story.
A petite white lily,
Shining dreams in tiny eyes,
Rolling around green moss,
Standing tall, amidst the growing grass.
Playful mud she adorns,
Blissful soak of platonic amuse,
Lonely streets make a wander haven,
Together, thy create her paradise galore.
Mighty glass ceilings she unfolds,
Wrapped in oodles of societal norms,
The spirit inside her shouts loud,
Alone, I beat the chauvinism sojourn.
Uncertain solitude she braves,
It raises a gentle mother in her,
She births the future of tomorrow,
Builds a generous nation of able minds.
I am the woman of today.
Born centuries ago.
Courage is my shining armour.
No odd thy break me.
Thou respect me, thou love me.
I believe, who I am.
I am the, ‘Woman of ‘Courage.’
I wail in tears,
A gentle smile lifts me.
I fall in stupor,
The mighty lift wakes me.
I fail to giant storms,
A warm pat puts my grip back.
I loath in sadness,
A brave heart pours courage in me.
I succumb to defeat,
An innate warrior flushes hot blood again.
Ye ye… I wonder in awe,
Who is this?
Where does it hail from?
A mellow voice rings in my ears,
I am the ‘Strength’.
I am infinite.
I gave you life.
I yielded you.
My womb nurtured you,
To live for eternity.
I am your ‘Maa’.
I am your Strength.
Dedicated to my Mom. You melt in the cosmos but your undying spirit is the charisma of my strength. Love you, Maa!
Ami
Passions 