I feel joy, I feel high, I feel zeal —
but I cannot find one word to express my feelings.
It may seem a quiet moment,
but surely it is full of love, and of happiness.
I am here, reading it all over again —
some words written for me.
I don’t want to hide, but I don’t know how to express it;
I am short of words to make my feeling pure.
I may write a book — or maybe not even a word;
but my eyes are looking for only one thing:
myself, in your eyes — and now, in your poem.
Tag: Silence
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Myself in Your Poem
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जाने क्या बात है
जाने क्या बात है, आज गुनगुना-सा मिज़ाज है;
बता पाना तो चाहता हूँ, पर न जाने क्या बात है, जो रोके जा रही है फिर भी।कुछ तो है इस वक़्त के दरमियाँ —
मेरी एक छोटी-सी और कहानी, लफ़्ज़ दो लफ़्ज़ की एक और जवानी।जाने क्या बात है, विरत-सा मन आज है;
चंद लम्हे ही तो थे, न जाने मन क्यों उदास है।रुख़ से, रुक-रुक के आते तो हैं,
पर ज़ुबान समझ नहीं पाती, क्या बात है।एक और किस्सा-सा लगने लगी है अब मुझे मेरी ज़िन्दगी;
जाने क्या बात है — याद भी है, साथ भी;
न कोई रूठा है, न जुदा;
बस, वक़्त के साथ दिल से एक ख़ुशी नहीं,
और आस-पास सब बेकार-सा है — न जाने ऐसी क्या बात है… -
Myself with Myself
With a silence of yours,
I sleep with my dreams;
with the end of the day, you —
I wake up, all for her.With a joy of yours,
I hear people singing aloud;
with an end of yours,
comes another day, to you.With every effort to understand you,
I surrender myself, deep into the darkness;
with every wonder of you,
it shines with the full moon, and turns magical.With every hour about you,
I am lost — of memories, and of mind;
with every cry of yours,
I lose myself, and become myself. -
Two Swords
Soon a day will come, when the phone will ring,
and one voice will echo in my ear:
“Panda, I can’t take it anymore —
she talks too much,
she sneaks too much,
she cries too much,
she gives me competition.”Though I am not jealous,
I am a little scared of her;
and though I enjoy the madness with her —
how can two swords survive in one sheath?The voices will echo, and my brain will ache;
time will pass,
from evening to night,
from night to day.
Those voices are coming, from far away —
I can hear them coming soon,
I hear them whispering, soon. -
Beautiful Lie
You say one thing, and your eyes another —
making me believe it is all lies.
You say something, known to the unknown, I feel;
often it is close to the truth,
but it moves with a sharp turn of reality,
and rises again with the darkness and the night,
and sleeps with a weeping mourn… -
Lasting Memory
I used to glance slyly, from beneath my drawing book,
at those deep, lost eyes that lured me, and my smile;
though they faded often, and were lost, seldom found —
how I would come early, to the rise, just to see that angel of “deep, dark eyes”… -
Eyes
Sparkling and stunning, a deadly smile —
she looks behind my time;
slyly, and slowly, even time whispers:
her aura, and her smile, all around mine. -
Love?
Afar, at the heights of love,
I am scared of its hurt;
wide open, I welcomed the thorns —
how seldom do I hear it wrong? -
Conversation
Open your arms, and shower your love onto me;
shall I be lost beneath it — your heart, your caresses —
lost in the loaf and the work of these illusions?
Spare me not a rose, but spare me from hate;
I shall go far, with the smile of yours in my heart…