ये आज क्या हुआ ?

एक रोज जो ‘जिंदगी’ ने दी थी गवाही, मेरे ख्वाब के सच होने की
आज जब पहुचा ‘अदालत –ऐ-जिंदगी’ मे तो , बयान से मुकरने लगी ।

सोचा था जो… ये हवाए , परवाज़ देंगी मुझे ‘मंजिल की दिशा’ मे
आज जो उड़ान भरी तो , अपना रुख बदलने लगी ।

गुमान था…. जिस ‘दोस्ती’ पर ,कहते थे यार जिनको
आज जब मुश्किलों से सामना हुआ तो , दोस्ती दगा देने लगी ।

कहती थी… जो ‘रात’ मुझसे ,मेरे ख्वाबों को सहेजेगी
आज जब ख्वाब पूरा होने को हुआ तो , सुबह को बुलाने लगी ।

सँजोये रखा था… जिस ‘दर्द’ को , के लिखेंगे कभी ‘मरहम की स्याही’ मे डुबोकर
आज जब ‘विशाल’ लिखने बैठा तो , स्याही सूखने लगी ……..

Vishal Maurya

Zakir Husain Delhi College, DU

inspartec@gmail.com

Price of your Dreams

The daughter lay on the bed facing her pillow, deep in the vividness of her thoughts.
Her mother asked, ” What is that you dream about?”

“Dream? I’m trying not to dream. There’s always a price you have to pay for your dreams.” She mumbled from inside the pillow.

“Aren’t you paying a price right now, for not dreaming?”
She sat up this time.

“Then which price is higher? Should I dream or should I only live what life brings to me?”

“Life will bring to you what you desire. The choice is between the price you pay for following your dreams and the price you pay for giving up on them. Come, lets go shopping.”

The two went into an expensive shop. The mother told the daughter to look for something that fits her perfectly. The daughter followed. She was surprised at the perfect fit and the high quality of the cloth. She felt confident wearing it.
Then the mother told her to abandon that dress and look for one which was a size bigger. The new dress hung loose on her. She did not look very pretty in it neither did she feel comfortable. The mother asked her to buy the loose dress.

“But it doesn’t even fit me, mother. Its of no use.”

“So what? It covers you, that’s the purpose right?”

“No that’s not the soul purpose. If it was so, why don’t I drape a cloth around me. That would cover me equally well.”

The mother then asked the shopkeeper the price of both the dresses. “The price is the same. They’re both equally costly, the only difference is their size.” Replied the shopkeeper.

The mother explained, “Living your dreams and giving up on them both have a high price to pay. Only one is a perfect fit and elevates you, while the other, as you said, is of no use to you.
When you did not give up on the dress even when I insisted, why give up on your dreams for any reason in the world?”

The mother is right. She teaches not only the daughter but us all a lesson. There is always a price to pay, it is on you to decide what it has to be paid for.

Go on. Dream freely. Live your dream. Then dream again.

Soumyaa Verma

Faculty of law, MSU, Vadodara

The wait

His eyes were wet when they put him in his shaking hands,
To fetch him happiness, he will cross seven seas and travel through endless lands,
Now he sits there waiting, waiting to hear his voice, to see his eyes,
There are no more grudges; no more complains, just a hope; to see him before he dies,
For now he is old, no life in his body, no strength in his bones,
He is far away now, moving forward, making his own life, no time to pick up the phone,
While he who made him a man, walks a mile just to call him every day,
He sacrificed every desire, he gave up his own life to make his, they say
Clutching his hands, he learned to stand,
Now he walks with a wooden stick, no one there to hold his hand,
He cried to leave him on his first day of school,
His face doesn’t even cross his mind now, stupid old fool,
He passed away one day, in the darkness and silence of the night
Just like his son years before, with a bullet through his heart, he had got into a fight
The loss of his son made him crazy; he was sent to an asylum,
Where he waited for his son to take him home,
So he did that night, to take him away,
He was with him now, some place better, far away.

Debojit Sengupta

BITS Pilani

Beauty Lies Within

As the rays of the rising sun, touched her lashes, she woke up looking forward to the day ahead. Sundays had always been special. A day with her family, different from the daily activity of schooldays and exams, venturing the hotspots of New Delhi. Being the first Sunday of December, her favourite month, made it all-the-more exhilarating. She loved how the seemingly warming rays of the sun would coalesce with the surrounding haze to give a twinge of chill, marking the welcome of Winters. To her dismay, her parents were working that day. She dragged herself through the corridor with dampened spirit and hopes, thinking about her lashed down plans. Without further fussing, she grabbed her laptop, sat on the couch and logged into Facebook. The only interesting, current hot topic had been Delhi Elections. Scrolling down through the news feed filled with aimless and meaningless posts by people, she came across a poem. Unlike pieces of writing, this rare one gave her mind a good exercise. It talked of a girl, who got a box of crayons for Christmas. The girls started filling the paper with her unparalleled, imaginative world of colours and dreams, similar to other kids, yet unique in her own way. She then came across a crayon, “SKIN”, that didn’t match her own colour. 
The girl in this poem reminded her of the comments and taunts she had endured while growing up.

“Don’t play too much in the sun! You’ll grow darker and no boy would marry you!”

“Kaali ho rahi hai tu. Go and take bath!”

“Is colour me kaali lag rahi hai. Change the dress!”

This, she came across a boy telling his mates.

“I would date a girl who is fair and tall, like Hollywood Actresses.”

The wounds of the past lay open, fresh, as she struggled through her memory of the childhood, that she realised, was shared by many other girls of this fine country. A scene of her childhood set staging before her eyes, where she was going to a toy store hand-in-hand with her Dad. He jokingly asked her to buy the Indian Bride Barbie and laughed. Even the child in her preferred a sleek, fair Barbie. All the cartoons, Disney princesses she loved during childhood had been fair! She reminisced the times when she was told, how her brown,tanned skin had been a set back in compared to her lean body, long straight hair and sharp mind. Stepping back to reality, she questioned, if it was the society to be blamed for not accepting their brown complexion or herself for being quiet about the rants she grew up hearing. Where the minds of children are shaped at a tender age, why are they made to realize that having a brown skin is an insult? Wouldn’t this carry on to the coming generat ions? 
She switched the laptop off. Got up, and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Apart from the baggy oversized sweater and her hair, undone, suddenly the brown skin she always loathed, seemed astonishingly pristine. Suddenly she thought how beautifully it merged with the golden of the Sun, and her brown eyes. All the taunts seemed irrelevant. All the logics seemed useless. 

“Beauty lies within the eyes and soul of a person, not in the colour of skin.”
With this thought she walked out to bring a change, feeling ecstatic about her newly found dignity. 

Anushka Anand

Brown n’ Proud

Insan Badal Rha Hai

Mombabti Ko Jalane wala, Ghee K Diye Bhul Rha Hai,
Abhinetriyo Ko Chahne wala, Maa Saraswati Ko Bhul Rha Hai.
Insan Badal Rha Hai
Insan Badal Rha Hai.

Ekkisive(21st) Sadi Me Pashchatya Rang Me Ranga, Yua Apne Sanskar Bhul Rha Hai,
Kisi ek Chehre Ke Khatir- Maa-Baap Ko Bhul Rha Hai,
Insan Badal Rha Hai
Insan Badal Rha Hai.

Videso Ko Jane Wala, Swadesh Ko Bhul Rha Hai,
Unchaeyo Ko Chhune Wala, Apne Shikshako Ko Bhul Rha Hai,
Insan Badal Rha Hai
Insan Badal Rha Hai.

Baccho K Bhavishya K Chintan me Pita, Din-Raat Parishram Kr Rha Hai,
Baccha Adhunikta ke Is Daur Me, Pita K Arman Kuchal Rha Hai,
Insan Badal Rha Hai
Insan Badal Rha Hai.

Ladka Apni Jivan Sangini Ka Agyakari Ho Rha Hai,
Maa-Baap Ko Vridha Avastha me Chhod, Patni Sang Alag Reh Rha Hai,
Insan Badal Rha Hai
Insan Badal Rha Hai.

Betiya Ghar Ke Lakshmi Hoti, Is Baat Ko Insan Bhool Rha Hai,
Ladki K Janam pe Dukhi, Ladke K Janam Pe Utsahit Ho Rha Hai,
Insan Badal Rha Hai
Insan Badal Rha Hai.

Desh Ka Netritva Krne Wala, Rajneeti K Mayne Bhool Rha Hai,
Loktantra Ke Gangotri- ‘SANSAD’ Ko Jaane wala, Samvidhan Ke Garima Bhul Rha Hai,
Insan Badal Rha Hai
Insan Badal Rha Hai.

Desh 14 February Ko Valentine Day Mana Rha Hai,
Usi Din Desh K liye Shahid Hue, Bharat Maa K Saputo Ko Bhula Rha Hai,
Insan Badal Rha Hai
Insan Badal Rha Hai.

Hey Bharat K Baccho, Jamane aur Sadi Ke Is Badal Me Tum Na Badlo,
Bharat K Chahumukhi Vikas Avam Navnirman K Liye,
Tum Apni Bhartiya Sanskriti Na Bhulo,
Tum Apni Bhartiya Sanskriti Na Bhulo.

Anand Dubey

F.I.M.T. IP University, New Delhi

Nobody But You

Sitting on a chair,
It’s about you I dream.
Your face so wonderful,
A magical story it does seem.

I’m not aware of what you feel,
But I’d really wish to know.
What if I asked you out someday,
Would you say yes or just let it go?

‘Cause its only you on my mind,
Day in and day out.
Its you in my heart,
Only you I think about.
I’m not sure whether you love me,
But i’m sure I do.
And if I wanted somebody,
It is nobody but you.

The way you smile,
The way you talk,
It is the way you speak,
Or just the way you walk.

My heart skips a beat,
When you are in front of me.
The loot in your eyes is something,
I cannot oversee.

‘Cause its only you on my mind.
Day in and day out,
Its you in my heart.
Only you I think about,
I’m not sure whether you love me.
But i’m sure I do,
And if I wanted somebody,
It is nobody but you.

Today I heard something about you,
To call it a miracle or gods grace
Just as I do, you like me too.
And i knew it was a yes, when I saw the spark in your eyes the smile on your face. 

‘Cause its only you on my mind
Day in and day out
Its you in my heart
Only you I think about
Now I’m sure whether you love me
I’m sure I do
And now I have that somebody
It is nobody but you

Months passed, like a shadow you left me behind,
But not a single day has passed when you haven’t crossed my mind.
But I think I don’t wanna live that way,
Because I know you wont miss me even if I may. 

From the moment I saw you
Till the moment of now
I stopped myself from loving you
But failed miserably somehow.

‘Cause it was only you on my mind
Day in and day out
It was you in my heart
Only you I thought about
I’m not sure whether you still love me
But i’m sure I do
And if I wanted somebody
It is nobody but you

Abhishek Mantri

abhishekmantri9@gmail.com

Because you are a girl…

First thing that comes to any girl’s mind is anything negative related to it. Like you can’t ride a bike because you are a girl and oh! You are too sensitive to have enough control over the gears. You cannot whistle. You cannot talk loudly because you are a girl. You are supposed to be shy, quiet and agree to everything anyone says because you are a girl. And we are expected to be ‘sati-savitris’ even in the modern day!

Yes. I agree I am a girl and I obviously know that. But NO, I am not one of those women who just have to nod to whatever has been said just because she is a woman! So this is my story, and this is how I speak it! Because of my talkativeness and my bubbly nature, I used to be referred to as a tomboy in school. Girls used to be jealous of me because I would give a Hi-5 to the guys they wanted to stick to like a gum. This was the reason why they would hate me for touching their ‘Prince Charmings’ or whatever. 

However I had a bizarrely different story at home. My father’s family was more affiliated to the sons than the daughters. All through my childhood, all I’ve seen is my grandmother would act as if I am just another child even if I was the eldest one and in a way deserved showers of love. I made my parents proud by winning medals, debating, etc. But no, I was not a son. I was NOT a GUY. To be precise, I was NOT thei ‘Ghar ka chirag’. And I didn’t want to be one because I knew what difference I would make by being just a daughter. I saw my grandmother harassing my mother and yelling at her and alleging her to motivate all my mischief. The same mischief done by my male cousins appeared ‘cute’ to my family. My father never had a say in it. So being a girl was something that bothered them and I wanted to prove them wrong. And from then it’s all I thought that I would make my mother proud, be my father’s support and my younger br other’s helping hand. Being a girl, I literally knocked down a guy in Std.5th for bullying my best friend. I won a karate fight opposite to a guy. I was the most graceful dancer according to my Kathak teacher and a good learner according to my guitar teacher. Academics, Sports and behaviour, I was good at all of them. But was that it? Was that all to prove my mettle for being strong as a woman? No. I don’t think so. Despite being tough on the outside, being a girl, we have a completely different person inside. Our souls are so sensitive and minds so emotional. And that’s where maybe where we lack when we are ditched, cheated, left, betrayed, etc. The hand that slaps a guy for his ill-mannerisms is the same hand which moves over her love’s head playing with his hair. The eyes which can scare the hell out of anyone are the same ones that lovingly look at her loved one. She allows the guys an allowance to listen to her heartbeats, touch her, kiss her and also is she a support for a boy to discover his within self. Yes, there is always a woman behind every successful man! The heart speaks a totally different language for us. Sometimes, we have to swallow our feelings down. Sometimes, we have to speak out aloud and that’s the situation where life decides to stay on your side or abandon you. Sometimes we have to see ‘him’ happy with someone else. Think for months and months for why it didn’t work out, what wrong did I do on my side, what does he see in her? All questions, doubting ‘OUR’ capabilities. Ever wondered that it was fate for that to happen and you have a better life in front of you? Ever wondered that he was not meant for you, and even if he must’ve then he mustn’t have thought of another woman because girl you are as beautiful as your soul! And it’s destined for a beautiful soul as yours that there is one Prince Charming for each one of you and yes its true!

So its fate and it’s a blessing that you are girl. You can sustain extreme stuff like emotional traumas and labour pains. Days of discomfort and days of sadness. You are the source of all infectious smiles. The reason why fashion is alive! Your tears contain all the grief and that’s when you become stronger and that’s when you know you are alone enough to face the world and its mysterious ways!

You know how to fall in love, how to overcome a break-up, how to look beautiful, how to spread smiles, how to kick guys, ride an Enfield and show it off to the guys ( I do 😛 ), to maintain a whole house, give birth to a new life, get into politics, run a marathon and an endless list of stuff we can do! So next time you should smile and say ‘Because I am a girl…’ and then you have another amazing story you can tell to your daughter. A woman’s story is no less than a fairytale, is it? 

Anagha Bansod

National Institute of Fashion technology, Mumbai

Dhundh Do Na Mujhe

ये क्या हो रहा है मुझको,,
क्या खबर भी है तुझको….???

रोता हूँ मगर आँसू गिरते नहीं….
हँसता हूँ मगर होठों पे हँसी सजते नहीं…???

कहाँ गयी वो मेरी खिलखिलाहट,
वो कोमल सी मेरी रूमानियत….??
कहाँ गयी वो मेरी हिम्मत..
वो हमेशा साथ रहने वाली नम्रत…??
कहाँ गयी वो मेरी बातें…
वो शांत सुन्दर रातें…
कहाँ गयी वो मेरी अपनी मुस्कराहट…
वो मेरी अपनी हिचकिचाहट….
करते है सब खुसफुसाहट….
कि बदल गया है रजत……
मगर क्या कभी
किसी ने मेरे नजदीक आकर
थोरा सा प्यार दिखलाकर..
थोरा मेरे माथे को सहलाकर.. 
थोरा मेरे कपोलो को छूकर…
थोरा प्यार से पूछा की क्यों………..?????

क्या यही सिला होता है सबसे प्यार करने का
सबसे खिलखिला के बात करने का???

अब तो साली मौत भी मुझसे रूठ गयी है..
क्यों मैं खुद को संभाल नहीं पा रहा हूँ..
क्यों मैं सभी को डाट दे रहा हूँ…
क्या मैं ऐसा ही था या अब हो रहा हूँ….
कोई बताओ मुझे….. कोई तो समझो मुझे और समझाओ मुझे…
मेरी आँखों का प्यार लौटाओ मुझे….
मेरी बातों की मिठास लौटाओ मुझे
उस रजत को लौटाओ ना मुझे….

मैंने खो दिया है खुद को… मुझे ढूंढ दो न कोई….
मुझे ढूंढ दो न कोई….
मैं खो दूंगा वरना अपना अस्तित्व…. ढूंढ दो न मुझे…..

Rajat Ranjan

NIFT Bhubaneswar

rajatr81@gmail.com

Ascetic Rummage

With all of this world’s pace today, many of us feel left out. Even with all the money we make, even with all the privileges we get, we feel resentful by the time we go to sleep – a feeling which doesn’t satisfy the very purpose and existence of life. Why is it so? Why are the feelings of restlessness, emptiness, isolation, the fear of being abandoned is replaced be a belief of God?

So many people I personally know have taken onto asomatous apprenticeship that sometimes it makes me wonder, if at all we are able to elicit anything on our own. I’m not generalizing, nor throwing any bad light upon any spiritual bouquet but we have become very at home with running towards someone else for help, always.

Many organizations I know, have constantly stressed at one point – that we must start cultivating a habit of undoubting the omnipresence of The Lord. I’m not an atheist, nor am I a priest. I’m a human, who believes that if you practice well being, it will be reverberated back to you.

They headline the fact of God, into us, which is not something they’re supposed to do, because that relationship we have with Him is so pure and personal that the thought of even commercializing it, demeans the intimate receptivity between the two.

They cannot instill thoughts in us to like God, or believe in God because frankly that’s such a personal and privy decision. It’s unfair that it is those money seeking corporates who dictate our spiritual journey. It is flawed fundamentally to such a large extent that it’s not even funny.

I feel that, we must believe in His Infinite Spirit because we want to, and not because we must. And that feeling should come from within us, not from those traders of religion. I strongly give credence to the point that we all must be God Loving and not God Fearing. Because then it is, when we seek His nourishment.

You’re not happy because of God, you’re not sad because of God. You are feeling emotions, which are self-inflicted. Neither can we blame Him for our miseries, nor can we thank Him for our joys. We can just work towards bettering and believing in the relationship we have with that Absolute Being, not for any sort of reward or fruit, but for the sheer bliss and positivity it brings along with it.

Devesh Baheti

Institute Of Aeronautical Engineering

deveshbaheti84@gmail.com

Aaurat ki kahani

Bahut hua atyachar mahilao ka ab hm nhi dekh sakte hain un pr hote julm ab hm nhi dekh sakte hain…..
Kuch darindro ne khud badnaam hokar kiya is samaj ko badnaam na khud rhe chain se na dusre ko krne diya aaram ..
Bhool jate hain ye darindre ki meri ghar me bhi meri pyari bahan aur meri pyari maam…
Ab hmne ek bigul bajaya na puri hone denge inki hasrat na pure hone denge inke mukaam …
Kyunki inhi ke kadmo me hai jannat yhi bna sakti hai is desh ko mahan…
Bahut hua atyachar mahilao…

Amit Kumar

BBDNITM Lucknow

amitkumarganj@gmail.com