Straight from the Heart

Her eyes lit up with a spark but before Raju could notice it, the spark had been replaced by uncertainty and doubt. “What’s the matter,” snapped Gunjan as she took the stem of roses from Raju’s hand. “Why did you have to bring flowers?” “I didn’t bring them. I had to, sort of, buy it!” “I knew it! It’s certainly not your nature to bring flowers back home! The days of gifting flowers are long gone! These things only happen in movies! Anyway, you can throw these flowers away!” Gunjan was trying to continue the fight that had been left incomplete because of Raju storming out of the house in frustration. Although he could sense his tempers rising, Raju was too tired and in no mood to pick up the fight from where he had left. It was sultry and the humidity made him sweat profusely from every pore of his body. Frustrated and tired of fighting, he had gone out for an evening stroll thinking it would cool him down. Midway, he had stopped at a shop to buy some items for their daily r...

सुबह की धूप की गर्माहट में है आज कोई बात . हर पेड की डाली पे है कैसा फूलों का बहार . लाल , पीला , नारंगी , हरा , हर रंग का है विस्तार . ख़ुशी मनाओ , नाचो - गाओ आया बसंत बहार ! हवा की लहरों में है आज , मन क्यूँ जाता डूब ? चार दीवारों का बंधन तोड़ , नाच उत्ता है खूब . छोटे - बढे , नर - नारी , हर चेहरे पे ख़ुशी का सार . ख़ुशी मनाओ , नाचो - गाओ आया बसन्त बहार ! पिचकारी से निकले रंग , भर देता है किसी का दामन . पीले हो गए हाथ किसी का , रंग गया किसी का आँगन . हवा में लहराती चुनरिया , गोरी का रंग गया है निखार . ख़ुशी मनाओ , नाचो - गाओ , आया बसंत बहार ! होली - है , होली है , नारों से गूँज रही हर गली . झूमते , गाते , मौज मानते हर गली मस्त मौजों की टोली. और अमवा की झार पे बैठ कोयल कहें पुकार ख़ुशी मनाओ , नाचो गाँव , आया बसंत बहार !

On board the express named “Dhauli” For a sojourn by the Bengal Bay. I flew past stretches of green. And mud houses populated with life-unseen. The birds are up, early at dawn. And playfully race the train-in motion. Gliding swiftly along, in the train’s direction, Suddenly diverging, in a sweep of a wide arc. The mellow winter sun looked like a ball of fire, Fleeting through the foliage—sometimes far and at times near! Through the misty net, shone the sun’s rays, Warming my face with the softness of a baby’s caress! Then there was peace, spreading through me like sweet song. Lulling me into sleep as the train sped along!

The world is in a turmoil, And this time its just not about the fight for oil! There are doubts about continuity of Euro. The economy in Europe is stagnant-at near zero! Recession fears stalk the entire globe! Right from the deserts of California To the Pacific shores in faraway Tokyo. In absence of a demand, the factories cannot produce. Attractive discounts-even three for the price of one, is of no use! People are not buying many cars. They are neither spending on perfumes, air-conditioners or other wares! In Shangahi, one doesn’t have money for a house to possess, In USA banks are scared of mounting losses! Its no better even in our own country. Indian GDP going down doesn’t make anyone feel very cheery! The government has no money to make the economy grow. Neither have the best brains done anything worthwhile to show! Amongst the gloom all around, the saddest thing happens in one of India's remote towns. Prafulla Murmu is in a state of shock, for los...

बह गया वोह कगाज़ की कश्ती की तरह, गीतों से दिल  को छू के. जब दिन आ गएँ शबाब के, ओढ़े कफ़न चल दिए. होठों से छू के, हर गीत  जो अमर कर दिए. मुस्कुरा के गम छुपाने का, तरकीब सिखा गएँ. सितारा जो सो गया, परेशान रात साड़ी है. कुछ मीठी यादें और वोह दर्द भरी आवाज़, हमारे लिए छोर गएँ. ना चिट्ठी ना कोई सन्देश, जाने कौन सा है वोह देश बाबूल की नैहर चोर के, है कहाँ तुम चलें गएँ?  फिजां में बिखर गया, खुसबू की तरह बन के. बदन बिना, चेहरा बिना, सिर्फ यादों में बसे रह गएँ! शफक, धनुक, महताब घटाएं, तारे, नागने, बिजली, फूल. हर चीज़ याद करेगा तुम्हे, तुम हमारी दिल में अमर हो के रह गएँ. 

Everything seems like it was only yesterday. When did the colourful dreams turn to shades of grey? Yet time has flown past, silent and on the sly. In a wink, a year is quickly going by. A few more patches of grey on the side-burn. The visage is rounder, possibly a little worn? Summer and winter pass by in quick succession. The year going by, leaving behind only emotion. Life has a new meaning, its back to days of struggle. From the smooth highway, its down to dribble and juggle. One keeps trying hard, lucky sometimes, unlucky most The year going by, one can only reminisce and silently boast. The heart is heavy, grudging steps drag on. On the lips no longer rests a melody of a song. Things I love, no longer find time for indulgence The year going by, the robot like motions sometimes makes no sense!

The truant cloud broke away from a large lump of fluffy mass that seemed to have got stuck in the centre of the large cavernous hollow of a ravine. Probably it was tired of nestling amongst the green thicket of trees and longed for some human company. As it floated leisurely upwards, I noticed it changing its colour-from a dull grey to shades of white that grew more brilliant as it came out of the shadows inside the ravine into the pale sunlight. “Welcome to Meghalaya-our humble abode”, said the cloud as it came to rest within inches of my nose. Christopher Marlow’s poem seemed to keep coming back again and again as we left the crowded city centre of Shillong and started our journey towards Cherrapunji-the place that had the reputation, till recently, of being the world’s wettest place! Shillong, like any other hill station has become congested over the years. So much so that the main centre of the town (Police bazaar area) looks like one big mass of concrete in all sorts of shapes ...