ऐ चलनेवाले

ऐ चलनेवाले

ऐ चलनेवाले  तेरी दौड़ मगर उलझी हुई

उलझे सपनों पर सवार तू

परवाज़ को तेरे सवालों का सहारा

मैं साया तेरा,

तेरी रफ़्तार मेरी पहुच से बाहर की तेरा वजूद भी मैं ना तोल सका

तू मुसलसल ख़याल

तू उन्हीं ख़यालों का हिसाब

रुकना तूने कब सीख लिया

अब जो तू आज रुका हुआ

तेरी खुद ही से इतनी करीबी, बेकस, अज्नबी

सवाल तब भी थे, सवाल आज भी हैं

बस ज़मीर में आसमान आज कुछ साफ़ नज़र आता है

थीं आँखें तेरी कहीं तुझ ही में, तेरे ख़्वाबों में मसरूफ़

देखना शायद तूने आज ही जाना

कहीं ख़ौफ़ है, कहीं परवाह है, कहीं बेझारी भी तो कहीं बस खाली नज़र

है क्या हैसियत बहाल तुझे के तू तय करे तुझे देखना क्या है

महदूद तू, तेरी ऑंखें महदूद

तू औरों में भी देखे तेरी कहानी,

तेरी ज़ुल्मत, तेरी गिला, तेरी बेबसी

मगर समझ भी तेरी इसी से, तू आखिर करे भी तो क्या, तू महदूद है

शायद तू परिंदा ही है, हवाओं में ही सही

तू सब्र कर,पंखों में रूककर ज़ोर भर

आज आसमान थोड़ा नम-सा है

कल उठकर तवाना उड़ान भर

मौका फिर एक बार तेरे लिए

कोशिश तू भी कर फिर एक बार

तेरी उलझी दौड़ शायद आसान होजाए

उरूज के बेसब्री तेरी, रफ़्ता-रफ़्ता नज़्म बन जाए

ऐ चलनेवाले तू दौड़ कल

पर आज कुछ पल ही सही, फिर से ज़मीन पर चल

-Siddhitells (sometime in 2020, lockdown)

*meanings of some Urdu words from above

परवाज़- flight

रफ़्तार- speed

वजूद- existence

मुसलसल- continuous

बेकस- helpless

ज़मीर- mind

मसरूफ़- busy

ख़ौफ़- terror/ fear

बेझारी- frustration

हैसियत- capacity/ ability

महदूद- limited

ज़ुल्मत- darkness

गिला- complaint

बेबसी- powerlessness/ helplessness

परिंदा- bird

सब्र- patience

तवाना- powerful/ healthy

उरूज- ascension ( rising to an important position/higher level)

रफ़्ता- slowly/ gradually

नज़्म- poem

Sleep Again

An ode to the times lived in the lockdown.

Now we live in the post-covid world with a war happening in the backdrop.

I searched for light in that world so bright that I now seek comfort and safety in the dark. Ignorance and oblivion is comfortable and necessary when you need healing. I just hope I realize when I am healed enough to get up in search of light again. For now I choose to sleep and gather strength. But I will wake up soon.

Sleep Again

The dark of the night is comfortably bright

Darkness for the sake of it, brightness for the sake of it

Enough to order for sleep, enough for a stroll in the mind

I too take such strolls, especially when others are asleep

Dodging hands and legs of snoring bodies glowing in the dim light

I check and recheck the gas knob if it’s switched off

Hands again move across the stove, checking for leakage

Just to be sure

I also check and check again the latches on the main door

There is a safety door, a double lock and chain too.

Everything rests in its position,

I still open it all to lock it again

I just have to be extra sure

Of course as soundlessly as possible

Going to the wash basin next,

I wash the door off my hands

Wash them again now having touched the tap

Closing it shut with the elbow

How else can we possibly die?

I absolutely need to be sure. To deserve sleep

I check around for breathing chests and snoring nostrils

I count them and count them again

Thinking of the gas knob,

I decide to peep and check it yet again

But I hear the sound of water instead

Did I leave the tap on? I rush towards the basin

The tap is shut

Somebody is in the washroom though

Finally I ask myself- are we done?

And place my head slowly on the pillow

All I can hear now is the ceiling fan

Its soft humid air pouring generously on the skin

While sweat beads gather on the forehead

And I think of sleep

Deep, dark, practiced sleep

That blesses me at this hour generally

I hope to find it today as well

After I have felt worthy of it

Sleep waits

Until the sounds fade out

For me to heal in its short lived nothingness

I wake up just to be sure and sleep again

-siddhitells 15/01/2021

Plants and weeds

Gunpowder plant / Artillery plant

It grows around the leaking pipes in my apartment. The cement ground around our building is an entire habitat in itself. Especially below the pipes. Moss and algae delicately coating the moist cement and seamless gunpowder plants bushing over.  Almost like marshy creeks sponging into the mangroves. Rats move around in them like royal Bengal tigers. We also spot a lot of empty packets of paan masala and gutka in them. They grow on their own, are hardly looked at, they will be thrown out like nothing when the redevelopment happens but they exist for now, making most of whatever kind of water that comes their way much like the mangroves.

I wonder what it would sound like in there. Probably sounds that my human ear can never be able to funnel in. Even if I decide to bend down and stay still, hoping that I will find a little silence from the other sounds around, waiting for the nearest construction site to stop work for just a few moments, the train passing from behind magically decides to halt for those exact few moments, the baby from the first floor window gets distracted from crying only for those few moments (the other sounds I am ready to compromise, just this is magic enough) I wonder how long my curiosity would live? Will I ever wonder enough to actually give them a chance to speak? How many moments will I be ready to spare for something that is of no direct use to me?  Is my curiosity fueled by the usefulness of that thing?

Some species of gunpowder plant still live anonymously at the foot of our apartment. I comfortably call it just weeds and move ahead.

June2020