Poetry on the prowl |
Poetry on the prowl |
Everybody has a hidden story The story could be dark for some Nasty for a few and may be taboo in the society the story hides intense emotions Emotions, that may form major part of one’s life Emotions, that are hidden Due to fear of not being accepted This story wants to come out So eagerly waiting to be told to be heard To be acknowledged… Acknowledged by the ones, the narrator cares for The characters here may not matter The climax may not be appealing And the end, may not be happy But, what about the story Shouldn’t it be told? Heard? Or acknowledged? It tickles my head tickles to a point that I stand on the crossroads again Changing life with every single decision Each decision turning it to an alternate path A path that may take forever to be carved To be paved and strengthened It may take me to territories Unseen by many, known to - only a handful To some unexplored places, and their own set of stories of love and compassion, of sadness and of lust Of betrayal and of trust Of loneliness and of selflessness I am on the crossroads again Wondering which path to choose For each path has its perks And it’s own set of stories the story continues… I may tell it to you sometime Maybe you will stay to listen to it And maybe you will acknowledge Rajat Rastogi (wildelock) Mawana
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Remember...
You are still a kid Mostly unanswered Mostly un-held Your body may have grown up now But the kid isn't And probably it mustn't He sits deep down Probably in chains Or in a dark room, sobbing... He craves to be held And you know who can hold him Nobody but "you" It's you who knows How a familiar touch feels like A caress, from your loved one Just imagine you are unlocking the door unlocking the door deep within He still sits there Overwhelmed Waiting... Waiting for you To see him in the eye Unchaining him with your smile and then he sees... He sees the light coming from outside and there is a diffused shadow The shadow clears up and he smiles the moment he sees you He feels you and there's a cheer There's a cheer That you can see And only you It starts from one corner of his face To the other And it grows There's water in his eyes Overwhelmed... A tickle falls down his left eye But he isn't sad He isn't sad at all He just needs, to be held An innocent desire, because Nobody can hold him better Better than you It's you Who knows what he feels And what he feels like Remember... (Rajat) #crib #quarantine #selflove #harmony #reflection वहीं घर की छत पर मै बैठकर सोचता हूं ये आसमान और ये जमीन ये क्यों हमेशा साथ रहते हैं क्यों कभी मेरा साथ नही छोड़ते हालांकि मै उनको ढक जरूर देता हूं ये सोचकर कि छुप जाऊंगा पर कहीं न कहीं से किसी न किसी रूप में ये मुझे ढूंढ़ ही लेते हैं कभी अकेला नहीं छोड़ते फिर मै क्यों अकेला महसूस करता हूं क्यों सोचता हूं कि सारी गलती मेरी ही है दुनिया भर में जो दुख हैं वो मेरी ही वजह से हैं ऐसा है तो नहीं मै मै तो सिर्फ एक नादान सा बालक हूं जो शरीर से बड़ा हो गया है वहीं शरीर, जो इसी आसमान और जमीन ने दिया मेरे मां और पिताजी बनकर आज उन्हीं का स्नेह है जो मुझे जीवंत रखता है मुझे याद दिलाता है कि मै अकेला नहीं हूं कभी अकेला नहीं था और ना ही कभी रहूंगा सोचता हूं कि बदल जाऊं कि जीवन सादगी में है अपनों से बात करने में है उनके साथ हंसने और लड़ने में है उनको समझने और समझाने में है पर है क्या? ये परिभाषाएं इंसान ने अपनी सहूलियत के लिए बनाई है और मै अपने चंचल में इनको बदलता रहता हूं बदलता रहता हूं ये सोचकर कि सब ठीक कर दूंगा और भूल जाता हूं कि सब ठीक ही तो है क्योंकि ये आसमान और ये जमीन आज भी मेरे साथ है मै जहां भी जाता हूं जो भी करता हूं उसी रूप में उसी रंग में ये ढल जाते हैं और मै वैसे ही बदल जाता हूं भूल जाता हूं कि मै रूप रंग तो बदल सकता हूं किन्तु वो बालक कैसे बदलूंगा जो ये आसमान और जमीन हमेशा अपने साथ रखते हैं #thoughts #family #rustic #wanderlust #fielddays #portrait #instagood #love #nature #travel #life The poem ‘Ganges boy on the Gangetic spree’ is an articulated version of my observations during the river dolphin survey in the state of Bihar. Along with my team, I completed the survey during the month of March 2018. The season being late winters transitioning into spring, it is filled with colours, processions, and bird songs. The poem also talks about the bitter reality of the river Ganga. From diminished flow to barrages and from dredging to feral dogs biting a mouthful of whatever is available. The river today face challenges in all possible paradigms, be in ecological, social, economic or spiritual. Yet, it supports immensely beautiful wildlife in and around it. The poem is a humble attempt to put forward my views on how we treat a river which we call our mother. Happy reading ^.^ |
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