False Ink

I write,

Because I’m addicted to.

Sometimes poetry,

Sometimes stories,

Or sometimes, just some random

Articles to help you figure out

Rights and wrongs of life.

I fill up my pen with Ink,

I don’t talk much,

I let my Ink do the talking.

I fill up the paper with this Ink.

I write,

Because I’m addicted to.

What do you think,

Why do I write?

Because I go through

All this in my life?

No, you are mistaken.

I write,

Just to entertain myself.

I live a life full of

Imaginations.

I write,

Because I’m addicted to.

This Ink that I’m

Pouring into my pen,

Don’t try to find traces

of truth in there.

I have invented a false Ink.

The Ink which takes me away,

From all the bitter truths

Of this cruel world.

I write false stories,

I write with a False Ink.

I write,

Because,

I’m addicted to.

You won’t stop reading,

If I write with false Ink,

Will you?

झूठी स्याही

मैं लिखता हूँ,
आदत है लिखने की।
कभी कविताएं,
तो कभी कहानियाँ,
कभी कभी तो बस,
ऐसे ही सही गलत
तुम्हे समझाने के बहाने,
कुछ लिख लेता हूँ।
मैं कलम में स्याही भरता हूँ,
मैं स्याहियों में बातें करता हूँ,
मैं स्याही से लिखता हूँ।
मैं लिखता हूँ,
आदत है लिखने की।

तुम्हें क्या लगता है,
क्यों लिखता हूँ मैं?
क्यूँकि मैं इन
सब से गुजरता हूँ ?
नहीं, मैं तो बस यूँ ही
मन बहलाने के लिए
लिखता हूँ।
मैं कल्पनाओं से सराबोर
एक जिंदगी जीता हूँ,
मैं लिखता हूँ,
आदत है लिखने की।

ये जो कलम में मैं 

स्याही भर रहा हूँ, 

उसमे सच का कतरा 

मत ढूंढो तुम। 

मैंने एक झूठी 

स्याही बनाई है,

वो स्याही, जो मुझे 

दुनिया के कड़वे सच 

से दूर ले जाती है। 

मैं झूठ कहानियां लिखता हूँ, 

मैं झूठी स्याही से लिखता हूँ ,

मैं लिखता हूँ,
क्यूँकि,
आदत है लिखने की।

झूठी स्याही से लिखूंगा
अगर, तो
पढ़ना बंद नहीं कर दोगे न ?

Abomination

Don’t call me by my name,
I don’t like my name.
Those piercing sounds of my name,
I don’t like that.
Though I’ve a name plate
On my door,
But, I don’t like my home.
On the top right corner of book,
I had written my name,
To state the ownership of it
I don’t like my book anymore.
My name was written on letters too,
That I had written to you
Now, I don’t like you either.

Sitting under the roof,
On a fine evening,
When i was turning pages
of yesterday,
I found one of me,
But, it wasn’t me.
Names hadn’t changed,
But probably I had.
With passing time,
I kept on wearing
A new layer of time,
Now, it’s like
I don’t like myself either.

When spring came,
New leaves sprouted,
Mango groves welcomed
Baby mangoes on-board ,
But, no one came to my garden.
That swing which we had set
years ago, in centre of our garden,
That’s empty,
Swinging with the breezes.
I was sitting in the corner,
Trying to forget our names.
That garden is still there,
I don’t like going there,
I don’t like myself either.

In Between

Beyond this side of life and,
Ascending the other side of life,
Between those two ends,
There was another city,
Hidden in plain sight.
The city, which
everyone had gone to,
But, nobody had visited it.
A life, that everyone had lived
But, nobody had lived it.

From this side of life,
With you on my side,
To that side of life,
without you on my side.
In between,
There were countless efforts
To be with you,
For us to be together.
How long were we together?
We were not even together.
From this side of life, having you,
To that side of life, not having you,
Maybe, I have had set aside
Something in my life too.

Beyond the sights of
That glaring sun
Hitting right in the eyes,
And, preceding the sights of
Pitch dark black clouds,
There were few more moments,
Moments of thunders,
Moments of lightning bolts,
The lightning, that
Everyone had seen,
But, nobody had seen it,
In a life that everyone had lived
But, nobody had lived it.

Never together

You be the night,
I'll be the day.
We'll never be together.
But, when you'll be about to leave,
And, I'll be about to arrive,
Or, when I'll be about to leave,
And, you'll be about to arrive,
In those mornings and evenings,
We'll meet for sure.
And in that silence,
It will make such beautiful noise,
That this world would
Never have witnessed before.

You be the ground,
I'll be the sky.
Between us, there will be
Distances of earth and sky.
But, we'll meet on the horizon.
Believe me, we'll meet for sure.
And, this world will be amazed,
To witness our meeting.
They'll paint pictures of that,
So mesmerising and beautiful
That this world would
Never have seen before,
Never have witnessed before.

On that horizon,
When that setting sun
will meet the rising moon,
Or, that setting moon
Will meet the rising sun,
And ask "how are you"
"It’s been so long since we met"
This world will be beautiful again.
We’ll meet only for moments,
But, we won’t be together
We’ll never be together.