A poem A DAY keeps tension away!!

हिफ़ाजत से संभाल कर रखा था दिल कमबख्त पल भर में तोड़ कर चले गए
मेरे जिगर की वि·रासत के टुकड़े महबूब की गलियों में बिखर गए

वो शायद चौदहवीं की रात थी और मौसमे बरसात थी
सनम चले जा रहे थे अकेले ही नामालुम क्या बात थी
पछियों की ना जाने कैसी चहचाहट हुई जमीं पर से इक चमक उनके पेहरे पे आ गिरी
उनके हुस्ने-फ़सूंसाज की झलक थी हर खिश्त पे जिस शय से उनकी नज़रें जा मिली
पहले जु़ल्फ़ों को संवारा बडे अदब से फिर शीशा समझ वो टुकड़े उठा लिए
अपनी सूरत को परखा हर खिश्त फिर यकज़ा कर वो सुर्ख टुकड़े बगल में झुपा लिए
मुकाम पे पहुचं कर सनम को फिर उन सुर्ख टुकडों का ख्याल आया
बुलन्द रोशनी में दस दफ़ा मेरे दिल की शहजादी ने उन शीशों का दीदार पाया
छुप ना सका ना सका वो राज अब जिसे कभी हमने बड़े जतन से छुपाया था
शीशे नहीं मेरे दिल के टुकड़े थे वो 'जालिम' जिनको सनम ने रस्ते से उठाया
 
इक चादं एसा भी है जि·समें दाग़ ही नहीं है
इत्तेफाक यह भी अजब है बेदाग चादं आसमां में नहीं है
जान लो अब वो राज भी तुम जो कभी दफन हो गए
इक भूल हो गई खुदा से और दोनों चादं ही बदल गए
हुआ यूं कि दाग़ जिस चादं में था वो तो सितारों में रस गया
और कुदरत का करिश्मा देखिए बेदाग चादं जमीं पे बस गया
खैर थी इतनी भी 'जालिम' पर हद तो तब हो गई
जमीं बाले चादं के दीदार करने की इजाजत जब हमें मिल गई
बात इतनी भी होती तब भी खैरियत थी
पर सच मानिए उन्हे देखते ही हमें मोहब्बत हो गई
 
Standing At The Door

Standing at the door,
dog tags in hand.
About to tell
a loved one about
their loss.

Thinking of how
it could have been me.
Wondering how they
will react.

Reaching up
with heavy hand,
I knock on the door.

Waiting nervously,
I prepare myself
for what's to come.

Wishing anxiously
someone else had come.
Wanting desperately
not to have to
deliver such news.

He gave his life
for this country
that he loved.

Dying so suddenly
without warning.
He never got to say
"Goodbye, my love."

Sadly thinking
how to treat
the wounds
I'm sure to inflict.

Praying for peace
and getting only
a saddened heart.

The only tribute
I can give
is this poem.

His memory
will never fade
from my mind.

His lust
for life
never replaced.

His joy
in his family
and his friends,
never forgotten.

He will
live on
'till the end of time.

He is
one of us,
the unforgotten vet.
 
Hope

When all about you is black with gloom,
And all you feel is pending doom.
When your bones are racked with grim despair -
When every breath is a gasp for air.
Keep on going, though you need to grope,
For around the bend is a ray of hope.

A ray of hope is perhaps all that's left,
As your will to live has been bereft.
You've lost it all, it's just no use!
You can end it all, you need no excuse.
But throw away that piece of rope,
And give yourself a chance of hope.

Just give yourself another day,
Brushing aside what your thoughts may say.
This is your life and you can make a new start,
By ignoring the brain - just follow the heart.
Taking baby steps in order to cope,
And minute by minute you'll build on your hope.

Build on your hope,. one day at a time,
Though the road be steep and hard to climb.
The hurts of the past - they should be dead.
The fears of the future are all in your head.
Just live in the present and refuse to mope
Your life will sparkle for you're living in hope.
 
Different

How are we so "different"?
If "different" is just a thing.
If we all have certain features,
What does "different" bring?

People filled with hatred,
Can't possibly see,
That there's not really "differences"
Between you and me.

Looks can't show "difference",
If they're just there to be seen.
If you don't look like someone else,
Why are they so mean?

If being "different" is what is wrong,
I'd rather not be right.
And I'd want to finish living,
Doing the "different" fight.
 
The Road Less Traveled

How often we must bear the challenges of life;
The endless roller coaster between happiness and sorrow;
The constant ups and downs of daily strife.
And always the question remains .... why?

Life is not an easy road for most;
It twists and turns with many forks in the road,
Although always, and inevitably, we are given a choice ...

Do we turn to the right ... or the left?
Do we take the high road ... or the low road?
Do we take the easy path ... or the difficult one?

Decisions are not easy for those struggling for direction ...
And sometimes the many choices and signs become overwhelming.

While standing at a crossroads in life,
The urge is to take the most comfortable path;
The road with least resistance ...
The shortest or most traveled route.

And yet, if we've been down that comfortable road before;
Have gleaned its lessons in life, and learned from our experiences;

Do we yet again follow the known?
Or does our destiny lie in another direction?

The fear of the road less traveled is tangible and all too real;
It manifests itself in many ways,
And tends to cloud the issues that might otherwise be clear.

It is in these times of confusion,
That we must seek peace and solitude;

Time to contemplate on our life,
Our experiences and our choices past;
Time to look back, and reflect on what we have learned
Without fear or confusion.

For only each of us knows our own personal thoughts;
Our unique past and personal history;
The experiences that brought us to the crossroads we now face.

We can always learn a small degree from others experiences,
And yet ... no one person can walk in our shoes,
Others know not, the trials and tribulations faced in private ...

For each is individual ... unique ... and personal.

And that is why ... while standing at a crossroads,
Only "we" can formulate the decision for ourselves;
The true direction that lies within;
The choices we must deliberate on with clarity and wisdom.

For it is only through personal reflection,
That we can now choose our destiny;
... Our next adventure;
... And the future we will embrace.
 
The Kiss
by Dante Gabriel Rosetti


What smouldering senses in death's sick delay
Or seizure of malign vicissitude
Can rob this body of honour, or denude
This soul of wedding-raiment worn to-day?
For lo! even now my lady's lips did play
With these my lips such consonant interlude
As laurelled Orpheus longed for when he wooed
The half-drawn hungering face with that last lay.

I was a child beneath her touch, a man
When breast to breast we clung, even I and she,
A spirit when her spirit looked through me,
A god when all our life-breath met to fan
Our life-blood, till love's emulous ardours ran,
Fire within fire, desire in deity.
 
Life

by Charlotte Bronte

Life, believe, is not a dream
So dark as sages say;
Oft a little morning rain
Foretells a pleasant day.
Sometimes there are clouds of gloom,
But these are transient all;
If the shower will make the roses bloom,
O why lament its fall ?

Rapidly, merrily,
Life's sunny hours flit by,
Gratefully, cheerily,
Enjoy them as they fly !

What though Death at times steps in
And calls our Best away ?
What though sorrow seems to win,
O'er hope, a heavy sway ?
Yet hope again elastic springs,
Unconquered, though she fell;
Still buoyant are her golden wings,
Still strong to bear us well.
Manfully, fearlessly,
The day of trial bear,
For gloriously, victoriously,
Can courage quell despair !
 
था तुम्हें मैंने रुलाया!
Harivansh Rai Bachchan.

हा, तुम्हारी मृदुल इच्छा!
हाय, मेरी कटु अनिच्छा!
था बहुत माँगा ना तुमने किन्तु वह भी दे ना पाया!
था तुम्हें मैंने रुलाया!

स्नेह का वह कण तरल था,
मधु न था, न सुधा-गरल था,
एक क्षण को भी, सरलते, क्यों समझ तुमको न पाया!
था तुम्हें मैंने रुलाया!

बूँद कल की आज सागर,
सोचता हूँ बैठ तट पर -
क्यों अभी तक डूब इसमें कर न अपना अंत पाया!
था तुम्हें मैंने रुलाया!
 
पथ की पहचान
Harivansh Rai Bachchan.

पूर्व चलने के बटोही बाट की पहचान कर ले।

पुस्तकों में है नहीं
छापी गई इसकी कहानी
हाल इसका ज्ञात होता
है न औरों की जबानी

अनगिनत राही गए
इस राह से उनका पता क्या
पर गए कुछ लोग इस पर
छोड़ पैरों की निशानी

यह निशानी मूक होकर
भी बहुत कुछ बोलती है
खोल इसका अर्थ पंथी
पंथ का अनुमान कर ले।

पूर्व चलने के बटोही बाट की पहचान कर ले।

यह बुरा है या कि अच्छा
व्यर्थ दिन इस पर बिताना
अब असंभव छोड़ यह पथ
दूसरे पर पग बढ़ाना

तू इसे अच्छा समझ
यात्रा सरल इससे बनेगी
सोच मत केवल तुझे ही
यह पड़ा मन में बिठाना

हर सफल पंथी यही
विश्वास ले इस पर बढ़ा है
तू इसी पर आज अपने
चित्त का अवधान कर ले।

पूर्व चलने के बटोही बाट की पहचान कर ले।

है अनिश्चित किस जगह पर
सरित गिरि गह्वर मिलेंगे
है अनिश्चित किस जगह पर
बाग वन सुंदर मिलेंगे

किस जगह यात्रा खतम हो
जाएगी यह भी अनिश्चित
है अनिश्चित कब सुमन कब
कंटकों के शर मिलेंगे

कौन सहसा छू जाएँगे
मिलेंगे कौन सहसा
आ पड़े कुछ भी रुकेगा
तू न ऐसी आन कर ले।

पूर्व चलने के बटोही बाट की पहचान कर ले।
 
दिन जल्दी-जल्दी ढलता है!
Harivansh Rai Bachchan.

हो जाय न पथ में रात कहीं,
मंज़िल भी तो है दूर नहीं -
यह सोच थका दिन का पंथी भी जल्दी-जल्दी चलता है!
दिन जल्दी-जल्दी ढलता है!

बच्चे प्रत्याशा में होंगे,
नीड़ों से झाँक रहे होंगे -
यह ध्यान परों में चिड़ियों के भरता कितनी चंचलता है!
दिन जल्दी-जल्दी ढलता है!

मुझसे मिलने को कौन विकल?
मैं होऊँ किसके हित चंचल? -
यह प्रश्न शिथिल करता पद को, भरता उर में विह्वलता है!
दिन जल्दी-जल्दी ढलता है!
 
He Will Be With You
- Shiva Pillai

When things are at their worst, and you don’t know what to do,
Just take the name of God, and He will be with you;

Life is like a circle, what goes around, comes around,
In the deepness of the sorrow, happiness is found;
If you think you're beaten, you need to think again,
There goes a saying which says: If no pain, then no gain.

When everyone is gone, and there’s no one for you,
Just take the name of God, and He will be with you.

Look at everything that, nature has given you,
Flowers that die every day, they don’t cry like you;
You have a life, a gift, a soul and you still want more,
When money reaches your head, life would become sore.

When everything is over, and you wish something new,
Just take the name of God, and He will be with you.
 
If you strike a thorn or rose,
Keep a-goin'!
If it hails or if it snows,
Keep a-goin'!
'Taint no use to sit an' whine
When the fish ain't on your line;
Bait your hook an' keep a-tryin'--
Keep a-goin'!

When the weather kills your crop,
Keep a-goin'!
Though 'tis work to reach the top,
Keep a-goin'!
S'pose you're out o' ev'ry dime,
Gittin' broke ain't any crime;
Tell the world you're feelin' prime--
Keep a-goin'!

When it looks like all is up,
Keep a-goin'!
Drain the sweetness from the cup,
Keep a-goin'!
See the wild birds on the wing,
Hear the bells that sweetly ring,
When you feel like singin', sing--
Keep a-goin'!​
 
BEING HAPPY...!


It's sharing life with a friend,
Sharing the days that return not again;
It is flying high and free,
Glinding over the open sea..

It is a mother with her child;
The wind blowing freely, cool & wild,
It is knowing that most people care,
And knowing that life will always be fair!

It is dreaming on a lovely spring day,
Letting the hours just flow away;
It is hugging a kitten so small,
Not caring about anything else at all.

It is having fun each day,
Helping people in every possible way;
It is sharing, loving & giving,
And it is having the pleasure of Living..!
 
Poems are crazy. Poems are sweet.
Poems tell us a story, They go with a beat.
Pick it up and never put it down,
poems are great and always make silent sounds.

Every word counts, they pounce on your face,
slow down and enjoy them, it's not a race.

Poems can be fun if you make them to be,
poems are easy and so much fun, you see!

Poems are like fruit.
They are juicy and delicious.

Have a piece won't you, come in
and enjoy the words flow into your mind.

Poems are great. Poems are kind.
Poems are wacky, poems are mine.
 
I believe in all that has never yet been spoken.
I want to free what waits within me
so that what no one has dared to wish for

may for once spring clear
without my contriving.

If this is arrogant, God, forgive me,
but this is what I need to say.
May what I do flow from me like a river,
no forcing and no holding back,
the way it is with children.

Then in these swelling and ebbing currents,
these deepening tides moving out, returning,
I will sing to you as no one ever has,
streaming through widening channels
into the open sea.
 
For The Fallen

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is a music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncountered:
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables at home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end they remain.

-- Laurence Binyon
 
The Soldier
Rupert Brooke, 1887-1915

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blessed by the suns of home.
And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts a peace, under an English heaven.
 
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