aday’s blog

alone them walk,
alone leaving all behind.
holds a few close
them; close to feel alive.

friends no longer the beloved,
instruments to enjoy free time.
family, yes,
they are close
but the truth, bitter as brine,
only them knows.

walked past hundred,
walked above hundred,
still hundred more
to be left behind,
who knows?

a perfect life,
yes, an envyed one.
a child, a partner; one more joy filled day,

but the raven mocks,
fruits! fruits! fruits!
but where are them roots?
mocks, then flies away.

..Apurva

for a moment i felt scared,
then the moment passed on,
& the soul took over.
it no longer remained a horror,
but had an aura of honor.

for a moment i felt scared,
then a thought took over,
must have lived my life worthwhile,
to grab your attention,
force you towards action.
felt paid- for my time.

for a moment i felt scared
then a loving took over,
thought not of you,
but my father above.
you may boast,
but His will decides.
he found me worthy,
found me beloved & called.
for a moment I felt scared.

it never needed more,
it asked for you alone,
the woman on the gate to heaven,
wanted just you,
needed just the person & a smile.

yet you turn out to her,
with a portfolio,
carts filled with memories.

busy she reads,
each document you carried,
as per the procedures,
changed after your predecessor’s law suit,
sorting memories of decades,
sorting plans & lies planted,
while you now stand
awaiting,planning another law suit.

initially,
she only asked for a smile.

packed in the bag
rest my heart.
i can’t find a home for me,
you, rest my heart.

i send you a few poems,
written by friends far,
read them & sigh
they are away,
until I find a route,
rest my heart.

rest but not sleep,
for the road ahead needs you a lot,
i plan to break even,
i plan to color my grey,
when even under the sun
I find no light,
you are needed even more,
keep open your door.
i am preparing my cart,
we’ll journey again,
till then, rest my heart.

we ain’t no pebbles,
no we ain’t.
comman as are
ordinary we ain’t.

travel in buses,
distances covered on bicycles & cart,
sleeps us,
on roads sides
in zuggis & tents,
builds you home,
towers and dome.
homeless we may be
worthless we ain’t.

doing all the labour
we can,
working each day
sunrise till night at ten.
we keep you running,
living at your pace.
down we may be
but dead we ain’t.

but a bit unlucky may be,
we build you the towers you call the city.
to be forgotten later on.
but brother we are.

So great a few men,
they wrote a book so strong,
holds my nation,
protecting us all,
uniting, answering each men’s call.

They wrote words,
may be not understood,
may be not easy to trust at all.
but they do work,
when all fail,
they stay,
keeping us sheltered till dawn.

Even at times,
as we watch the world fall,
as we find, men spreading blood all around,
Governments topple, systems crawl.
They hold as if a magic.
they hold us even in storms.

Had no way, for them to know,
the devil who awaited in future,
to tear nations and unions,
to dethrone any passionate structure,
But they wrote a book,
that kept free, even the poorest of all.

I know the times,
are getting worse,
and the trust is falling among men,
but I trust the great book,
written back 1950,
and the souls of those,
who nurtured and protected
it with peace, love or with gun.

And I know, we shall survive,
for it was written to hold love
peace, respect and most of all,
rights of men, above the lives.

Yes! A few great men,
wrote a book so strong,
it holds my nation,
keeping us free,
uniting each state and men
protecting the Eternal Indian Tree.

……………Apurva

where were you my heart,
when I searched for you
in that mirror, in those snaps
I looked deep in my pockets
pages, and my bags.
over the shoulders of my blood,
and in hands of men paying me bread.

But there never was a me,
anywhere I looked,
there never was a me,
whatever I cooked (in my mind).

I tried sleeping on stones,
bury my hand in sand & snow
kissed the trees & caressed the
wind with my hands.
The pleasure, the sleep
a me resting, relieved
never stood for long.

And here I am,
another cafe, another road
another day, another way
smiling at what i am
a man, living his day.

What you feel,

आते हैं कुछ ख्याल,
शमा देख उन्हे शरमाती है|
हैं ये ख्याल मेरे अपने
या शमा उन्हे जागती है||

कुछ ख्याल जिंदगी के,
कुछ ख्याल ख़ुशी के|
पकड़ कर मेरे कलाम की नोक
शमा उन्हे जागती है||

शर्मा कर जब झुकती है,
मोम की ओर,
भभक्ति है, जलती है बनके नासूर
मेरे ख्यालों को भी जलाती है||

और कुछ ख्याल उड़ कर मेरी क़लम से,
पकड़ लेते है उसका आंचल,
और खो जाते हैं, चंचल|

मैं और मेरी कलम
घूरते हैं, शमा को
पूछते हुए - किस आखर से
तेरी खिदमत करें,
कि कोई ख्याल तेरी लो से निकल,
मेरी कविता में बस जाए ||

…अपूर्व

मैं कहाँ कवि