Dear Love,
Bid you a sad good night
To night
As you are a merchant,
I,m a poor purchaser
Of memories and desire
You know about my ways,
Know about my bygone days.
You know
I,ll crave for all
That is my past.
I,ll seek to get back all
That is full of dreamy desires,
Where You and I turn,
Turn into"Let us go to cinema,
Let us have a morning walk
On the bank of River Gandak,
Let us have some fun
Sitting somewhere
Under the summer moon,
Under the winter sun
Together.
Here
We have merged
Our individual self into one,
Have exchanged
Our pain and pleasure,
Our hatred and love
For each other.
Today
I,ll bid you customary good night
,cause my feelings have grown stale,
Our position have changed
From we to you and I again.
Standing away from the past
Here today I see
Only the picture of ours
Restored within,
Where the flames of burning desire
Are still seen rising
But with a touch of brightening ice.
Now
I feel thoroughly relaxed,
Feel free to bid you
A pleasant good night,
My love..
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
YARD-STICK
मानदंड
बदला तो बस समय
समय के साथ
चीजें होती गई प्यारी,
रिश्ते होते गए भारी.
बादलों के भी बदल गए
हाव-भाव,
प्रकृति में भी आये
ढेरों बदलाव.
पर,
सूरज ,चाँद,सितारों की तरह
नहीं बदले आप,
नहीं बदला
जीवन के प्रति आपका नजरिया
नहीं बदला
सबके लिए आपका स्नेह,
सबके लिए प्यार
रिश्तों के प्रति आपका लगाव,
क्षितिज तक दिखता है
जिसका विस्तार आज भी,
गहराई लगती है समंदर सी.
आपसे ही उगता था
सूरज हमारी उम्मीदों का,
आपकी उंगलियाँ ही देती थी
दिशाएं हमारे जीवन को,
आपका साहस,आपका धैर्य था
हमारा संबल.
अभाव के बादल
उमड़ते-घुमड़ते रहे
गरजते रहे,बरसते रहे
कई-कई दिन,कई-कई रात
मुसलाधार
लगातार.
फ़िरभी,
नहीं तोड़ पाए
विश्वास पर टिका
आपका फौलादी मनोबल.
नहीं डिगा पाए आपको
आपके अपनाये रास्ते से,
नहीं तोड़ पाए रिश्तों का घेरा
जो आपने डाल रखा था
अपने चारो ओर
क्योंकि
आपने कभी नहीं तोला इन्हें
उस तराजू में
जो झुक रहा था दूसरी ओर.
बन गए मानदंड
हमारे लिए
जिसके सहारे पढ़ पाए थे हम,
मूल्यों के उतार-चढ़ाव,
कर पाए थे
बदलाव का मूल्यांकन.
आपके अपनाये मूल्यों में
तौल पाए थे
स्वयं को,
औरों को उस तराजू में.
लगा कितने छोटे हो गए हैं हम.
हमने सोचते थे
यदि आप बदल जाते
तो शायद हम बन जाते
हमारे दिन फिर जाते ,
संवर जाता हमारा आनेवाला कल.
.
पर,
आपको कहाँ था स्वीकार
रोटी का आप पर हावी हो जाना.
भले ही कुरते पर क्यों न लगे हों
सैकड़ो पैबंद,
पर नहीं था आपको स्वीकार
चरित्र के कोरेपन पर कोई दाग.
आप दर्पण थे
व्यवहार में सदाचार के,
अपने आदर्शों के,अपने विचार के
जो आज भी ध्रुवतारा बनकर
हमें भटकाव से बचाता है .
लेकिन आज
जब किनारे खड़ा
समंदर को देखता हूँ
तो लगता है
तब सावन जरूर आता,
पर हमारे आँखों का पानी ले जाता.
हम कभी नहीं जान पाते
हमनें क्या खोया,
हमनें क्या पाया.
YARD-STICK
Though very slowly,
Yet certainly
The time has changed
And with this has changed
The aspirations and intentions
Of human beings.
Commodities has become priorities,
Relations are loosing their sheen.
Weather has also taken a U-turn,
The Nature has grown wary and thin
As clouds have changed their mind.
But,
Between the two horizons
The sun remained constantly bright,
The moon maintained its white,
Stars twinkled as ever
In the deep of blue sky,
So was my father,
A person without change.
He remained unmoved
As he had love for all
With an oceanic depth
That had extension
Unto the horizon
He was the rising sun
Of our hope and faith.
Like a rudder of a boat
In the sea
His fingers were a guide
On the road of life
Full of confusion.
His courage and patience
Made us steady and strong.
No doubt,
Changes were taking place all around,
But they failed as ever to break
His stony resolve and divert him
From his Aiklavyay-like aim,
Failed to overpower
The conscience and will
Of his value guided mind
Though scarcity kept dancing
On various tunes.
Failed utterly to break
The ring of relationship
That he had around him
'cause he used a different "balance",
Nothing was material wherein.
He lived and lived and lived
With the principles under his skin.
For us
He became a standing yard-stick
For ever changing values,
Where with we were able to evaluate
The changes taking place all around,
And ours and others place there in
.
Then alone we realized
How selfish and mean
We have grown today
How high and strong
His morale had been.
.
It always came to our mind
If he had changed his stance,
Fortune would have got a chance
In our so called simple life,
We could have taken a dip
In the flowing worldly charm.
He never allowed his hunger
To grow and devour
His hard earned ways.
He was ready to wear a shirt
Full of holes and patches
But not ready to see a blot
On his milky white image
Diligently put in a desired frame.
Father was mirror of good conduct,
Of his views and values
That saves us even today
From many deviations
Like a Pole-star
In the northern sky.
Today
Standing ashore
When I look at the sea,
I honestly feel
Monsoon might have come
But all without water,
It had never been known
What was Lost and found.
बदला तो बस समय
समय के साथ
चीजें होती गई प्यारी,
रिश्ते होते गए भारी.
बादलों के भी बदल गए
हाव-भाव,
प्रकृति में भी आये
ढेरों बदलाव.
पर,
सूरज ,चाँद,सितारों की तरह
नहीं बदले आप,
नहीं बदला
जीवन के प्रति आपका नजरिया
नहीं बदला
सबके लिए आपका स्नेह,
सबके लिए प्यार
रिश्तों के प्रति आपका लगाव,
क्षितिज तक दिखता है
जिसका विस्तार आज भी,
गहराई लगती है समंदर सी.
आपसे ही उगता था
सूरज हमारी उम्मीदों का,
आपकी उंगलियाँ ही देती थी
दिशाएं हमारे जीवन को,
आपका साहस,आपका धैर्य था
हमारा संबल.
अभाव के बादल
उमड़ते-घुमड़ते रहे
गरजते रहे,बरसते रहे
कई-कई दिन,कई-कई रात
मुसलाधार
लगातार.
फ़िरभी,
नहीं तोड़ पाए
विश्वास पर टिका
आपका फौलादी मनोबल.
नहीं डिगा पाए आपको
आपके अपनाये रास्ते से,
नहीं तोड़ पाए रिश्तों का घेरा
जो आपने डाल रखा था
अपने चारो ओर
क्योंकि
आपने कभी नहीं तोला इन्हें
उस तराजू में
जो झुक रहा था दूसरी ओर.
बन गए मानदंड
हमारे लिए
जिसके सहारे पढ़ पाए थे हम,
मूल्यों के उतार-चढ़ाव,
कर पाए थे
बदलाव का मूल्यांकन.
आपके अपनाये मूल्यों में
तौल पाए थे
स्वयं को,
औरों को उस तराजू में.
लगा कितने छोटे हो गए हैं हम.
हमने सोचते थे
यदि आप बदल जाते
तो शायद हम बन जाते
हमारे दिन फिर जाते ,
संवर जाता हमारा आनेवाला कल.
.
पर,
आपको कहाँ था स्वीकार
रोटी का आप पर हावी हो जाना.
भले ही कुरते पर क्यों न लगे हों
सैकड़ो पैबंद,
पर नहीं था आपको स्वीकार
चरित्र के कोरेपन पर कोई दाग.
आप दर्पण थे
व्यवहार में सदाचार के,
अपने आदर्शों के,अपने विचार के
जो आज भी ध्रुवतारा बनकर
हमें भटकाव से बचाता है .
लेकिन आज
जब किनारे खड़ा
समंदर को देखता हूँ
तो लगता है
तब सावन जरूर आता,
पर हमारे आँखों का पानी ले जाता.
हम कभी नहीं जान पाते
हमनें क्या खोया,
हमनें क्या पाया.
YARD-STICK
Though very slowly,
Yet certainly
The time has changed
And with this has changed
The aspirations and intentions
Of human beings.
Commodities has become priorities,
Relations are loosing their sheen.
Weather has also taken a U-turn,
The Nature has grown wary and thin
As clouds have changed their mind.
But,
Between the two horizons
The sun remained constantly bright,
The moon maintained its white,
Stars twinkled as ever
In the deep of blue sky,
So was my father,
A person without change.
He remained unmoved
As he had love for all
With an oceanic depth
That had extension
Unto the horizon
He was the rising sun
Of our hope and faith.
Like a rudder of a boat
In the sea
His fingers were a guide
On the road of life
Full of confusion.
His courage and patience
Made us steady and strong.
No doubt,
Changes were taking place all around,
But they failed as ever to break
His stony resolve and divert him
From his Aiklavyay-like aim,
Failed to overpower
The conscience and will
Of his value guided mind
Though scarcity kept dancing
On various tunes.
Failed utterly to break
The ring of relationship
That he had around him
'cause he used a different "balance",
Nothing was material wherein.
He lived and lived and lived
With the principles under his skin.
For us
He became a standing yard-stick
For ever changing values,
Where with we were able to evaluate
The changes taking place all around,
And ours and others place there in
.
Then alone we realized
How selfish and mean
We have grown today
How high and strong
His morale had been.
.
It always came to our mind
If he had changed his stance,
Fortune would have got a chance
In our so called simple life,
We could have taken a dip
In the flowing worldly charm.
He never allowed his hunger
To grow and devour
His hard earned ways.
He was ready to wear a shirt
Full of holes and patches
But not ready to see a blot
On his milky white image
Diligently put in a desired frame.
Father was mirror of good conduct,
Of his views and values
That saves us even today
From many deviations
Like a Pole-star
In the northern sky.
Today
Standing ashore
When I look at the sea,
I honestly feel
Monsoon might have come
But all without water,
It had never been known
What was Lost and found.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
THE OTHER DIMENSION
Why don't you go
Beyond the body of a woman,
Go beyond
The set pattern of your mind,
That you proudly say tradition
Seasoned with dying customs,
The mere surface of values
Where all relations
Circles round a basic animal instinct:
Birth,copulation and death
In full disobedience of Freedom.
Why do you have hawkish eyes
With piercing gaze
Ever ready to tear away
The body from the soul ?
Why do you always move
With a thorny cactus in your eyes,
Trampling the soft petals of rose.
Why don't you remember the days
When this body with its "inner self"
Kept fast,spent many sleep-less nights
For your well being and good shape
As mother,sister, wife and all
Thar a woman is!
Why don't you take her
As mother Earth or nature around,
In different forms and attire.
Why don't you push open
The delicate door and enter
The house where you lay
In Kaushlya's lap,
Or,Play
In the courtyard of Yashoda
Like Ram and Shyam.
In her body stays Sita of Ram,
Savitri of Satyawan,
The body is not just stony Ahilya
Torn by one,
Tormented by the other
Dwindling between the values.
Here lies a broken heart,
A baffled mind
Ignored at both end,
And left thoroughly shocked.
It's not cracked even today
Why you become Yudhisthira
Playing CHAUPAD and putting Draupadi
On every second move of defeat,
Why so many times
Only Sita was tested by earth and fire.
Why someone turns Paramhans,
Someone,Gandhi.
Minds of different make,
One full of wild desires,
The other
with great common sense
And vivid uncommon sensibility
Towards body and mind.
Portraits of ladies
By Raja Ravi verma
Catches eyes,
By Hussain
Arouse feelings
Of different kind,
Draws lots of confectionery comments.
No one tries
To peep into the portrait
Where lies a beating heart
And a quivering mind.
It is for sure
You can't hold the earth
In your hands,
But by a simple affectionate hug
You may bring both
Heaven and earth together.
It's not a road to tread,
But a book of life to read.
Use body as a boat to float
On the bed of oceans
Full of love and emotions,
Riding on the waves
You'll reach
The shore of humanity.
So come!
Live with her body
With all sincerity,
You'll find in it
A better human half
And the universe in her mind,
The sun rise expectation in her eyes.
Read her mind and you'll read yours.
Standing close to her
You will share her concern,
Feel the ripples of the waves
Of her soul,not of desire.
Her body is like the sun.
Many celestial relations
Revolve where around
Though in different orbits.
She keeps them always abreast.
As her "self " is a PROTON
That ever holds.
Beyond the body of a woman,
Go beyond
The set pattern of your mind,
That you proudly say tradition
Seasoned with dying customs,
The mere surface of values
Where all relations
Circles round a basic animal instinct:
Birth,copulation and death
In full disobedience of Freedom.
Why do you have hawkish eyes
With piercing gaze
Ever ready to tear away
The body from the soul ?
Why do you always move
With a thorny cactus in your eyes,
Trampling the soft petals of rose.
Why don't you remember the days
When this body with its "inner self"
Kept fast,spent many sleep-less nights
For your well being and good shape
As mother,sister, wife and all
Thar a woman is!
Why don't you take her
As mother Earth or nature around,
In different forms and attire.
Why don't you push open
The delicate door and enter
The house where you lay
In Kaushlya's lap,
Or,Play
In the courtyard of Yashoda
Like Ram and Shyam.
In her body stays Sita of Ram,
Savitri of Satyawan,
The body is not just stony Ahilya
Torn by one,
Tormented by the other
Dwindling between the values.
Here lies a broken heart,
A baffled mind
Ignored at both end,
And left thoroughly shocked.
It's not cracked even today
Why you become Yudhisthira
Playing CHAUPAD and putting Draupadi
On every second move of defeat,
Why so many times
Only Sita was tested by earth and fire.
Why someone turns Paramhans,
Someone,Gandhi.
Minds of different make,
One full of wild desires,
The other
with great common sense
And vivid uncommon sensibility
Towards body and mind.
Portraits of ladies
By Raja Ravi verma
Catches eyes,
By Hussain
Arouse feelings
Of different kind,
Draws lots of confectionery comments.
No one tries
To peep into the portrait
Where lies a beating heart
And a quivering mind.
It is for sure
You can't hold the earth
In your hands,
But by a simple affectionate hug
You may bring both
Heaven and earth together.
It's not a road to tread,
But a book of life to read.
Use body as a boat to float
On the bed of oceans
Full of love and emotions,
Riding on the waves
You'll reach
The shore of humanity.
So come!
Live with her body
With all sincerity,
You'll find in it
A better human half
And the universe in her mind,
The sun rise expectation in her eyes.
Read her mind and you'll read yours.
Standing close to her
You will share her concern,
Feel the ripples of the waves
Of her soul,not of desire.
Her body is like the sun.
Many celestial relations
Revolve where around
Though in different orbits.
She keeps them always abreast.
As her "self " is a PROTON
That ever holds.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
WHEN I MISS YOU(Written in 1985)
My love,
Whenever I miss you
I miss the whole thread
Between you and I
That links us together.
I sit here and fight
All sorts of War
Suffer all kinds of pangs
And get my "self" divided
Into fragments in your absence,
Fragments of time,tense and passion.
I hang as ever
Between memories and desires
As they keep coming disturbingly,
I am still sitting with her
Teaching her chemistry of passion.
Sitting with her I am learning
How winds interact with leaves,
Flowers with butterflies.
I see you turning into mother,
But fail to watch myself turning into father.
I am just a grand old father
With my sons up in arms
'gainst me and away
Deserting me like a dust in the been,
But grand old sons clinging to me
Even today.
The waves continue to come
One after another,
I stand still between mother and son
All silent but with mixed feeling
Of what I lost and what I gained.
Whenever I miss you
I miss the whole thread
Between you and I
That links us together.
I sit here and fight
All sorts of War
Suffer all kinds of pangs
And get my "self" divided
Into fragments in your absence,
Fragments of time,tense and passion.
I hang as ever
Between memories and desires
As they keep coming disturbingly,
I am still sitting with her
Teaching her chemistry of passion.
Sitting with her I am learning
How winds interact with leaves,
Flowers with butterflies.
I see you turning into mother,
But fail to watch myself turning into father.
I am just a grand old father
With my sons up in arms
'gainst me and away
Deserting me like a dust in the been,
But grand old sons clinging to me
Even today.
The waves continue to come
One after another,
I stand still between mother and son
All silent but with mixed feeling
Of what I lost and what I gained.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
ROSY BANGLES
Tuesday,
December 14, 2010
ROSY BANGLES
गुलाबी
चूड़ियाँ
प्राइवेट
बस का ड्राइवर है तो क्या हुआ,
सात साल
की बच्ची का पिता तो है!
सामने
गियर से उपर
हुक से
लटका रक्खी हैं
काँच की
चार चूड़ियाँ गुलाबी
बस की
रफ़्तार के मुताबिक
हिलती
रहती हैं…
झुककर
मैंने पूछ लिया
खा गया
मानो झटका
अधेड़
उम्र का मुच्छड़ रोबीला चेहरा
आहिस्ते
से बोला: हाँ सा’ब
लाख कहता
हूँ नहीं मानती मुनिया
टाँगे
हुए है कई दिनों से
अपनी
अमानत
यहाँ
अब्बा की नज़रों के सामने
मैं भी
सोचता हूँ
क्या
बिगाड़ती हैं चूड़ियाँ
किस
ज़ुर्म पे हटा दूँ इनको यहाँ से?
और
ड्राइवर ने एक नज़र मुझे देखा
और मैंने
एक नज़र उसे देखा
छलक रहा
था दूधिया वात्सल्य बड़ी-बड़ी आँखों में
तरलता
हावी थी सीधे-साधे प्रश्न पर
और अब वे
निगाहें फिर से हो गईं सड़क की ओर
और मैंने
झुककर कहा –
हाँ भाई, मैं भी पिता हूँ
वो तो बस
यूँ ही पूछ लिया आपसे
वर्ना
किसे नहीं भाएँगी?
नन्हीं
कलाइयों की गुलाबी चूड़ियाँ!
(बाबा नागार्जुन)
ROSY BANGLES
What happened ?
If he is a driver of a private bus,
He is also a father
Of a seven year old girl either.
There hangs a bunch of rosy bangles
Just above the gear of the bus
With a hook fixed on the roof .
It tosses from right to left pendulously
In a half circle
With the speed of the moving bus.
I couldn't hold
My curiousity back anymore,
Bending forward I asked.
He was shocked at first,
The mid aged man
With big mustaches and robust face.
Then gently replied,
"Sir,I repeatedly tell her not to do that,
But she doesn't give an ear to me.
She has kept her dream-assets
Hanging here before my eyes
For many-many days.
I do think,
"Do they bargain for anything else?"
"Why! why should I remove them from here
And for what reasons?
Saying this he looked at me
I did look into his eyes
Only to find his big and wide eyes
Brimming with pure affection,
His interrogative self totally mellowed.
Once again
His eyes were on the road
I bent once again to tell him
In very low and humble voice,
"Brother, I am also a father."
It was just an asking curiousity,nothing else.
Otherwise,who wouldn't love rosy bangles
Of a daughter's tiny wrists.
कुमार पलाशDecember 14, 2010 at 1:18 AM
Dear
Rajiv sir, I was waiting for this only.. Gulabi Chudiyan is one of the famous
poems of Baba Nagarjun and your translation is of very high standard. At the
level of inquisitiveness and sensitivity, you have touched the soul of the
poem... though there are some missing links in the poem but still it is best..
I think you should put your energy and effort in this direction, which will
bear you success and fame... while reading your poem, I recall the cosy lines
of Sarokini Naidu's poem, see the few lines:
....."Some are meet for a maiden's wrist,
Silver and blue as the mountain mist,
Some are flushed like the buds that dream
On the tranquil brow of a woodland stream,
Some are aglow wth the bloom that cleaves
To the limpid glory of new born leaves...."
I think you have missed the soul of these lines while traslating these lines:
मैं भी
सोचता हूँ
क्या
बिगाड़ती हैं चूड़ियाँ
किस
ज़ुर्म पे हटा दूँ इनको यहाँ से?
और
ड्राइवर ने एक नज़र मुझे देखा
और मैंने
एक नज़र उसे देखा
छलक रहा
था दूधिया वात्सल्य बड़ी-बड़ी आँखों में
तरलता
हावी थी सीधे-साधे प्रश्न पर
और अब वे
निगाहें फिर से हो गईं सड़क की ओर.....
"Sir,I repeatedly tell her not to do that,
But she doesn't give an ear to me.
She has kept her dream-assets
Hanging before my eyes for many days....
someting is missing here.. I would suggest rather to redo it.. hope u will not
take it otherwise.. above all another spark of your creative talent and
original thinking in the field of translation..
Friday, December 10, 2010
LET THE RELATION THRIVE
Monday, July 26, 2010
रिश्तों की भूख जगने दो
कल जैसा नीला नहीं है आसमान
आज अँधेरा पहले से अधिक घना है,
दीये ने रौशनी से नाता तोड़ लिया है,
आज चमकता सूरज सिर पर है,
पेड़ों ने हरियाली का दामन छोड़ दिया है,
मुंह मोड़ लिया है सावन की घटाओं ने,
पुरवैया बयार ने बहना छोड़ दिया है.
गलियों-कुचों में रहते हैं ढेरों लोग,
फिर भी यहाँ सन्नाटा पसरा हुआ है,
सुख-सुविधाओं का लगा है अम्बार,
पर,बात-बात पर होने लगी है
अपनों में तकरार,
बच्चे भी भूल रहे हैं अपना व्यवहार,
जाने-अनजाने ही हर स्तर पर
होने लगा है रिश्तों का तिरस्कार ,
जलकुम्भी के ढेर सा हो गया है जीवन,
ढेर के ढेर पर सबकी जडें अलग-अलग,
नई जडें ज़माने की चाह में
हर बरसात में होते रहे अपनी जड़ों से जुदा.
अपनों की यादों को गुम हो जाने दिया है
गुम होती तस्वीरों के साथ
बस बचाकर रखा है
तो बिना भविष्य का एक छोटा-सा अतीत,
एक छोटा-सा वर्तमान.
जीवन-वृत्त को काटकर
रेखा बनानेवाले
कभी लौट नहीं पाते
अपने स्वर्णिम अतीत की ओर,
नहीं दे पाते अपने सपनों को मनचाहा रंग
क्योंकि रेखाओं की परिधि नहीं होती.
(क्योंकि नहीं चाहते रेखाएं बनें परिधि)
अतीत तो आज भी बाहें फैलाये
अंक में भर लेने को आतुर है वर्तमान
पर,वर्तमान अपने चका-चौंध से इतर
कहाँ देख पाता है,कब देख पाता है ये सब ?
सुख की चाह में गले लगा लेता है
जीवन-भर के लिए अकेलेपन का रोग
अवसाद-भरा,भटकाव-भरा.
LET THE RELATION THRIVE
The sky is not so blue
As it was on yesterday,
Nights are darker than ever
Pole star very dull to guide,
Lamps don't enjoy burning,
The sun is brighter overhead
With summer spreading its wings
Far and wide.
The eastern wind has stopped blowing,
Clouds are reluctant to rain,
Rivers have stopped flowing.
Silence is all around.
Though even the narrow lanes
Are full of matter,full of men,
Yet,people fight over petty things
And children are losing
The wings of dreams.
Life has turned into a water-bed
Where people swim like rootless plants
And washed away during flood
To distant and different place
With their individual roots
Due to heavy rains.
We have knowingly allowed
Our memories of past to fade
With fading pictures of ancient days.
What is saved is an encircled present
With ousted past,
Future standing far away.
Those who cut circle
To move on straight line
Without an eye on glorious yesterdays.....
Always fail to return home,
Fail to paint the picture of their desire
On a very small canvas they have,
'cause lines aren't circles anyways.
With open arms
Past is still waiting eagerly
To hug its present days,
But dazzled by prosperity around
He hardly perceives
The golden brightness of setting sun,
Unable to read the message on the wall
That it will tomorrow come,
And suffers
The everlasting loneliness
Full of sorrow and despair.
रिश्तों की भूख जगने दो
कल जैसा नीला नहीं है आसमान
आज अँधेरा पहले से अधिक घना है,
दीये ने रौशनी से नाता तोड़ लिया है,
आज चमकता सूरज सिर पर है,
पेड़ों ने हरियाली का दामन छोड़ दिया है,
मुंह मोड़ लिया है सावन की घटाओं ने,
पुरवैया बयार ने बहना छोड़ दिया है.
गलियों-कुचों में रहते हैं ढेरों लोग,
फिर भी यहाँ सन्नाटा पसरा हुआ है,
सुख-सुविधाओं का लगा है अम्बार,
पर,बात-बात पर होने लगी है
अपनों में तकरार,
बच्चे भी भूल रहे हैं अपना व्यवहार,
जाने-अनजाने ही हर स्तर पर
होने लगा है रिश्तों का तिरस्कार ,
जलकुम्भी के ढेर सा हो गया है जीवन,
ढेर के ढेर पर सबकी जडें अलग-अलग,
नई जडें ज़माने की चाह में
हर बरसात में होते रहे अपनी जड़ों से जुदा.
अपनों की यादों को गुम हो जाने दिया है
गुम होती तस्वीरों के साथ
बस बचाकर रखा है
तो बिना भविष्य का एक छोटा-सा अतीत,
एक छोटा-सा वर्तमान.
जीवन-वृत्त को काटकर
रेखा बनानेवाले
कभी लौट नहीं पाते
अपने स्वर्णिम अतीत की ओर,
नहीं दे पाते अपने सपनों को मनचाहा रंग
क्योंकि रेखाओं की परिधि नहीं होती.
(क्योंकि नहीं चाहते रेखाएं बनें परिधि)
अतीत तो आज भी बाहें फैलाये
अंक में भर लेने को आतुर है वर्तमान
पर,वर्तमान अपने चका-चौंध से इतर
कहाँ देख पाता है,कब देख पाता है ये सब ?
सुख की चाह में गले लगा लेता है
जीवन-भर के लिए अकेलेपन का रोग
अवसाद-भरा,भटकाव-भरा.
LET THE RELATION THRIVE
The sky is not so blue
As it was on yesterday,
Nights are darker than ever
Pole star very dull to guide,
Lamps don't enjoy burning,
The sun is brighter overhead
With summer spreading its wings
Far and wide.
The eastern wind has stopped blowing,
Clouds are reluctant to rain,
Rivers have stopped flowing.
Silence is all around.
Though even the narrow lanes
Are full of matter,full of men,
Yet,people fight over petty things
And children are losing
The wings of dreams.
Life has turned into a water-bed
Where people swim like rootless plants
And washed away during flood
To distant and different place
With their individual roots
Due to heavy rains.
We have knowingly allowed
Our memories of past to fade
With fading pictures of ancient days.
What is saved is an encircled present
With ousted past,
Future standing far away.
Those who cut circle
To move on straight line
Without an eye on glorious yesterdays.....
Always fail to return home,
Fail to paint the picture of their desire
On a very small canvas they have,
'cause lines aren't circles anyways.
With open arms
Past is still waiting eagerly
To hug its present days,
But dazzled by prosperity around
He hardly perceives
The golden brightness of setting sun,
Unable to read the message on the wall
That it will tomorrow come,
And suffers
The everlasting loneliness
Full of sorrow and despair.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Love is like a red-red rose
See Hindi version at : www.poojashandilya.blogspot.com
"लाली मेरे लाल की जित देखो तित लाल
"Love is like a red-red rose,
Its like a rising sun
In the eastern horizon,
Gradually brightening the world"
This I knew.
Since my childhood.
As I grew young
I nurtured some delicate dreams
Of my own,
And keeping them abreast
I dared to go out
All alone
To realize them all.
But when I ventured out
On the concrete road.
I found on every door
A danger mark !
"A white skull hanging
Between the crossed bones
In a red background."
But failed to understand
What it meant.
I didn't stop there,but moved on......
Being a girl ,
Somewhere I found
The danger of piercing looks,
The danger of caste and creed.
Danger of honour-killing
Out of fear of loss of customs,
Loss of face in the society
Due to relation in the same race.
The fear of naxalism
Along with provincial partision
And linguistic identification
Added more salt to it.
Wherever I went
I found
It was not the feeling of love
But of fear
Lurking in the air everywhere.
I was fade-up and frustrated
Alomst on the brink of nervous break-down
It seemed as if I would go mad,
My dreams will die an unborn death.
I got badly scared
And tightly hugged my dreams
Against my bosom
With both hands and cried.
But suddenly something flashed
Through my mind,
I hurriedly unclasped my arms
Only to find
My dreams were dead
And I was standing
In a pool of blood.
Then I recalled
Red is the colour
Symbolising both
Hope and despair.
Now I know for sure
The meaning of those words
And follow them.....
"लाली मेरे लाल की जित देखो तित लाल
"Love is like a red-red rose,
Its like a rising sun
In the eastern horizon,
Gradually brightening the world"
This I knew.
Since my childhood.
As I grew young
I nurtured some delicate dreams
Of my own,
And keeping them abreast
I dared to go out
All alone
To realize them all.
But when I ventured out
On the concrete road.
I found on every door
A danger mark !
"A white skull hanging
Between the crossed bones
In a red background."
But failed to understand
What it meant.
I didn't stop there,but moved on......
Being a girl ,
Somewhere I found
The danger of piercing looks,
The danger of caste and creed.
Danger of honour-killing
Out of fear of loss of customs,
Loss of face in the society
Due to relation in the same race.
The fear of naxalism
Along with provincial partision
And linguistic identification
Added more salt to it.
Wherever I went
I found
It was not the feeling of love
But of fear
Lurking in the air everywhere.
I was fade-up and frustrated
Alomst on the brink of nervous break-down
It seemed as if I would go mad,
My dreams will die an unborn death.
I got badly scared
And tightly hugged my dreams
Against my bosom
With both hands and cried.
But suddenly something flashed
Through my mind,
I hurriedly unclasped my arms
Only to find
My dreams were dead
And I was standing
In a pool of blood.
Then I recalled
Red is the colour
Symbolising both
Hope and despair.
Now I know for sure
The meaning of those words
And follow them.....
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Translation ऑफ़ "वक्त हो तो बैठो" "'कोयला ' भये ना 'राख'"
'कोयला ' भये ना 'राख'
सालों से
बक्से
में
बंद
पीले पड़
चुके
कागजों
पर
कभी
उकेरे गए
तुम्हारे
एहसास
आज
वक़्त की
धूल झाड़
बिखर गए
क्वार की
नर्म धूप
से
मेरे
आँगन में....
कांपती
उँगलियों से
छुआ
तो
नमी
कुछ
अनबुझे
लफ़्ज़ों
की
उतर आई
पलकों पर
मेरी ...
सुलगते
अरमान
अधबुने
सपने
सुनहरे
दिन
रुपहली
रातें
सब इतरा
रहे हैं
आज
मन के
विस्मृत
कोने में
सांस
लेते हुए....
फूँक दो
अपनी
साँसों की
आंच से
इन
अधबुझे
नम शोलों
को
वरना
ये भी
शिकायत
कर बैठेंगे
कि
ना ये
'कोयला'
हुए ना
'राख
(मुदिता गर्ग)
No Result
Years have gone
Pages of letters
Kept in the dark corner of a box
Have turned brown
Upon which you wrote once
Your heart and mind.
It has come out today
Out of the dust of time
And got scattered
All around
Like the soft rays
Of winter sun
In my courtyard .
With trembling hand
When I touched the warmth
Of some of its unexplained words
My "self" was overwhelmed
My eyes full of tears.
My burning desires,
Half woven dreams,
Golden days,
Silvery nights are proud
To be breathing today
In the forgotten corners of conscience.
Let us burn
Those half burnt
Moist logs of desires
With the fire within.
Otherwise, they'll complain
They were left undone.
7 comments:
1.
कुमार पलाशDecember 5, 2010 at 3:31 AM
Dear
Rajiv Sir
It is quite an experience to read two of your translated poems... I would say
that you have improvised the original poems at the level of content and style..
i remember the narratives of novels from Virginia Woolf... you have made the
poem so soft and lucid that it is worth reading... i would quote from the
letters of Virginia woolf and you would find the same kind of softness in your
translated poems...
"“My own brain is to me the most unaccountable of machinery—always
buzzing, humming, soaring roaring diving, and then buried in mud. And why?
What’s this passion for?”"... I would rather suggest to write original
poems in English or try hand in translating the great stuffs in Hindi
literature... like that of Manglesh Dabral, Baba Nagarjun, Rajesh Joshi, Uday
Prakash, Madan kashyap.. so that your effort is justified !
2.
जयकृष्ण राय तुषारDecember 5, 2010 at 4:22 PM
bahut
bahut badhai bahi rajivji aapka anuvad bahut sundar hai shubhkamnayen
3.
वाणी गीतDecember 5, 2010 at 4:32 PM
रश्मिजी
की कवितायेँ और आपका अनुवाद ....
दोनों को
ही पढना सुखद है !
4.
अरुण चन्द्र रॉयDecember 6, 2010 at 3:14 AM
Dear
Rajiv Ji both the poems are wonderful.. your confidence with english words is
increasing.. with each of ur translated poems...
5.
रेखा श्रीवास्तवDecember 7, 2010 at 5:23 AM
bahut
sundar kary kiya hai, ye anuvad to itani marmik dhang se prastut karna sabake
vash ki bat nahin hai aur phir nayi kavitaon se parichay bhi to ho raha hai.
isa karya ke liye badhai.
6.
रश्मि प्रभा...December 9, 2010 at 12:52 AM
rajiv
ji ka yah prayaas ek alag mukaam bloggers ke liye ...
7.
मुदिताJanuary 10, 2011 at 6:22 AM
राजीव जी
बहुत
बहुत शुक्रिया इस सम्मान का.....आपके इस कृतित्व से महसूस हो रहा है कविता ने आपके
दिल को छुआ...और आपने उन भावों को गहरायी से महसूस करके उनको शब्द दिए.....मैं
आभारी हूँ इस संवेदनशीलता के लिए..बहुत बहुत धन्यवाद
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