Posts Tagged ‘poem’


Resuming the blog after a short break with this Hindi poem that was written by my uncle Sanjeev Nagpal, a poetry enthusiast on the life of women in India:

 

Main iss mahaan desh ki ek aam hoon naari

Par mere apne hi logon ki nazar mujh par padi bhaari.

 

Ghar ke bahar nikalte hi ghoorti hain gidd aankhein,

Jinko bheed mein dekh kar bhi tham jaati hain saansein.

 

Kab kya anhoni ho jaye, darr se bhara hai zehen.

Gande fitro, shararti aankhon se mian jaati hoon saham.

 

Ghar se manzil tak ek khauf apne hi sheher mein,

Kya beti sahi salamt lautegi wapas apne hi ghar mein?

 

Mandiro mein main Laxmi, Saraswati, Durga ka roop ho jaati hoon,

Aur sadak pe aate hi ek vastu, ek cheez ho jaati hoon.

 

Ab band karo ashleelta aur hawas ka vyapar.

Varna tumhare vinash ke liye dhaar loongi Durga ka avtaar.

 

So rahi hai janta, police aur desh ka shaasan,

Par jaag gayi hain betyaan, ab tu nahi bachega dushasan.

 

Ye kaisa hai mera desh, mere desh ki shaan?

Neta to deta hai naare, ‘India is shining’, ‘Incredible India’, mera desh mahan!

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Guest post by Neha Chaudhary. She is a full-time dreamer who loves to strike a rhyme with the world and words, one at a time. A non-stop chatter-box on one hand and a pensive writer on the other. She blogs here.

I

Her father

the very girl you now stand on the grave of

Who faced the ferocity in an ordeal that lasted

an hour or so

They say.

The hour I have traversed seconds of

Hating myself

For not being her ‘Hero’ as she wished

For now standing as a spectator on the pieces of past with so much as a goodbye kiss

For giving my hand in support for her to walk while she still crawled

Had she not stepped out, woudn’t she be here after all?

For bringing her up in a world driven by lust and hunger

That gobbled up my precious

And incremented the slam piece toll by just a number.

In a diseased society where respect never walked

What was I thinking

How could it ever spare my doll?

Today they debate

How she was at fault

How clothes provoke

How the time was Rapist’s hour

How she shouldn’t have walked that road

Yes

The fault was hers

For she forgot she is a girl

And you are sex-deprived

For she was clad in her birthday dress

And that set erections sky-rise

For she forgot her Invisibility cloak home

And she was in your line of sight

For she would have screamed when you violated her

And to you it was a pleasurable sight.

I

The father

Of the child yet to open her eyes to the world

Of the little girl you see crawling in your house

Of the pretty princess you just dropped off to school

Of the ambitious recent-graduate ready to fly

Of the girl clad in red as someone’s bride

Of that old lady sitting alone in the park watching kids play

Urge you

To either burn down your vicious lust

Or face my wrath

For if you even see my girl as yours to take

I will hunt you down

I will terminate your breath.

You put your genesis to shame

And each man’s head hangs low for being one

You walk with a weapon in your pants

And she should be the one under restrictions?

Really???

4


Guest post by Himanshu Gupta, city director of  Yuva Unstoppable, a volunteer based organization focussed on empowering youth for a better tomorrow.

Nanhi si pari

Paida hoke woh giri,

Woh pyare se hath,

Jisko diya na kisi ne sath.

Woh Maa ka anchal,

Jo kar deta usko chanchal.

Woh chote se per,

Jisko kara sabne gaer.

Woh uska pehla kadam

Jismein ayi mushkil hardam.

Woh nanhi se jaan

Jisko kiya sabne bahut pareshan.

Woh Bapu ka saya

Jismein har waqt andhera hi kyun usne paya?

Woh meethe se sapne

Jisme ban gaye ab khuni hi apne.

Usne us waqt ek sawal uthaya

Jispe sab ne usko kar diya paraya

Sawal jo usne kiya:

“Hey bhagwan!

Mene khole jab ye nayan

To tha sab rangeen.

Jab hui thodi badi

To kya kara mene sangeen?

Rishto ne hi mera mujhse sab kyun china?

Maa ka anchal aur baap ka saya

Kyun le aya mere jeevan me andhera?

Kyun karta hai tu peida humein e insaan?

Jaha ghol diya sharafat ki aad mein shaiton ka ye aasman

Kya guna mene kiya ye ling paake?

Badan se nhi uthi hai nazar auro ki mere is duniya mein ake.

Na rishto ka moh hai na duniya ye rangeen,

Kya astitva paya

Kya kara mene sangeen?

Tadap tadap roke maine bitaya har pal.

Ghut-ghut marke mene jiya har kal.

Yaadon ki nagri mein

Basa woh andhera

Ae Bhagwan! kyun tu us mandir mein betha?

Jaha tera khud ka na hai basera

Jaha tera khud ka na hai basera..”

She Danced

Posted: July 15, 2012 by sakshikumarindia in Poems
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Guest post by Prateek Garg:

Kaafi puraani baat hai.
Ghaati mein saalon ke baad baraf giri thee.
Aur jab sab apne gharon ke andar
mandd choolhe per haath sek rahe they,
woh baahar nikalti hai.

Woh baahar nikalti hai,
baraf se dhakee ghaati ko nihaarne.
Barfaani thand ka ek jhonka
uske gaalon per jaise hee padtaa hai.
Woh naachti hai.

Woh naachti hai, jaise koi kal na ho.
Woh naachti hai, jaise iskey baad koi jashn hee na ho.
Woh naachti hai, jaise aaj woh azaad thee.
Woh naachti hai, jaise yeh baraf uski daas thee.
Woh naachti hai, zindagi ki taal pe.
Woh naachti hai, vaadi ki saaz pe. 
Woh naachti hai.

Uss din
aakhri baar usey dekha gaya thaa.
Kisi ne kaha, bhaag gayi hogi marjaani.
Toh kisi ne kaha, maar diya hoga usko.
Kahaan gayab ho gayi
kisi ko nahin pata thaa.
Aur saath hee uske gayab ho gayi
ghaati se woh baraf.

Uss din ke baad aaj tak,
ghaati mein kabhie baraf nahin giri.
Uss saal ki baraf bhi paani ban chuki thee.
Ja mili woh ek gehre samundar mein.

Aaj bhi jab baadal chhate hain.
Aaj bhi jab aasmaan shor machaata hai.
Aaj bhi jab ghaati apni beti ko yaad karti hai
Woh naachti hai.
Gehre samundar ke beech
leher bankar,
woh naachti hai. 
Woh naachti hai.