पिछले कुछ हफ्ते
लिख नहीं पाया था मैं कुछ
जो कहा
वोह दर्द था
कागज पर उड़ेला हुआ
डर गया था मैं,
कुछ लिख भी पाऊँगा कभी?
लिख नहीं पाया था मैं कुछ
जो कहा
वोह दर्द था
कागज पर उड़ेला हुआ
डर गया था मैं,
कुछ लिख भी पाऊँगा कभी?
पर कल घर जाते हुए
जब तीन कविताओं ने मेरा द्वार खटखटाया
मुझे लगा, अंततः
कविता ने जड़ जमा ली है मेरे अन्दर
अब अगर वसंत हो या पतझर
कुछ भी हो जीवन का मौसम
ये पेड़ मरेगा नहीं
कविता फलेगी-फूलेगी मेरे अंतर, हमेशा
for the past few weeks
i had not been able to write anything
whatever was said
was pain
poured on to paper
and scared i was
will i be able to write anything ever again?
but, yesterday while going home
when three poems knocked at my door
i felt, that indeed
poetry has taken root within me
now if it is spring or it is autumn
any season it is in life
this tree won’t die
poetry will continue to flower within my soul, always
Born in New Delhi, India in 1980 and is a retired pessimist (still) living in New Delhi. He has Haryanvi ancestors, a Punjabi girlfriend, friends all over the world, two (or more) yet to be born children, (many) memories of (many) pet dogs and no cats ever. He holds an honours degree in English Literature from the University of Delhi and creates advertisements for paying the bills. His interests are universal, and include: living, eating, sleeping and when not sleeping, daydreaming. Other abiding interests include reading, writing, street photography, newspaper editorials, watching the moon and planning trekking trips that never materialize.
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