Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Kaash aissa hota

Kaash aisa hota....
ham khwabon ke mahal mein rahte
khushiyon ke bicchawan pe rakha
armanon ka takiya hota.

Sukh chain ki basti hoti
jahan raaj aman ka hota
samay ke arjun ban kar
itihaas naya yoon rachte
mehnat se sinchi dharti par
karmon ke nishan hi milte.

Aasha ki kiran se sik kar
aaghaz subah ka karte
suraj ki tapish mein tap kar
josh ke dariya bahte.

Shaam rangon bhari aa kar
jo saans shram se deti
betaab kadam tezi se
us ore hamen le badhte
pyaar ka pyala pee kar
khushq labon ko
rahat milti.

Phir taron ki mehfil jamti
nisha dulhan si sajti
aur neend liye aankhon mein
ham chaand ko taaka karte
koi taan pawan ched deti
ek khamosh sa lamha hota
us raat hamen sone ko
hamari chahat ka
basera hota
yun roz tumhari bahon mein
ik naya sawera hota.

Kash aisa hota...
ye 'kaash' haqiqat hota....

Written on 2nd January 1991. Found yesterday on 29.09.2009

Kash persists even further away from reality.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Dash

I read of a man who stood to speak
At the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
From the beginning to the end.

He noted that first came the date of her birth
And spoke of the following date with tears,
But he said what mattered most of all
Was the dash between those years.

For that dash represents all the time
That she spent alive on earth.
And now only those who loved her
Know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not, how much we own,
The cars, the house, the cash.
What matters is how we live and love
And how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard;
Are there things you'd like to change?
For you never know how much time is left
That can still be rearranged.

If we could just slow down enough
To consider what's true and real
And always try to understand
The way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger
And show appreciation more
And love the people in our lives
Like we've never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect
And more often wear a smile,
Remembering that this special dash
Might only last a little while.

So when your eulogy is being read
With your life's actions to rehash,
Would you be proud of the things they say
About how you spent your dash?

A poem by Linda Ellis - Sent by Umang