आज़ फिर खुद को सुनना शुरू किया है
हल्की सी हँसी कि आवाज सुनाई पड़ी है ...
बँधे हुये रखे थे सपने ढेर सारे ..
आज़ खोली है ; सीली सी पोटली चाहतो की ...
धुँधले धुँधले अहसास सर्दी की धूप से ;
और तेरी हँसी ;तेरी बातो की कशिश ..
बन के उमीदें दरवाजे पे खड़ी है .
काश किसी दिन कोई जादू हो जाये
ऊपर वाला मेरी भी सुनने लग जाये
न जाने इस दुनिया को चलाता है कौन
सब कुछ है देखे पर रहता है मौन
चाहूँ मै कुछ होता कुछ और है
मेरी ही ज़िँदगी पर नही मेरा ज़ोर है
सुबह को उठना न चाहूँ मै फिर भी
फ़ुसला कर अपने पागल से मन को
उठा पटक कर भागू मै हर दिन
न छोड़े पल भर सपने मेरा पीछा एक क्षण को
सपने देखना भी छोड़ ही दिया था
पर फिर मायूसी हर तरफ से थी घेरे
क्यूँकि सपने घुलने जरूरी थे हकीकत की हवा मे
आख़िर कुछ हो न हो अपना पर सपने है मेरे
तो बुन कर ओढ़े सपनो का कम्बल
सोये फिर थक के इस हक़ीक़त से दूर
हुए जो पूरे तो बहुत सुकूँ है
तप कर बन जायेगे एक दिन जुनूं या फित्तूर
न भी हुये जो पूरे तो गम क्या
अच्छा सोचो तो है सब होगा अच्छा
शुक्र गुजार है ऊपर वाले का
कि
यह भी है कम क्या ...
Copyrights @Babita Yadav.All rights reserved 2017
Temporariness is all around..
O man,
keep your feet firmly on ground.
Barren trees..were once in blossom,
Forts n castles were once awesome.
Whistling winter winds or summerish glare,
Fields once lush now lying bare.
Laughter on lips n thumping heart beat of love smitten bride ,
Replaced by weary duties she has to abide .
Togetherness of travelling souls..
Journeys of hope n sorrow..
Whirlwind of emotions of meeting n departing...
Today becomes yesterday ..n so will be tomorrow.
Tell-tale signs of temporariness saying it all...
Demolished castles,doomed civilisations..
All grandeur finally had a fall.
No memory can retain..
No picture can capture...
No emotion will stay...
Happiness or pain.
So,O man ,
keep your feet firmly on ground
See...temporariness is all around.
Copyrights @Babita Yadav.All rights reserved 2017
Yeh jo ho raha hai chupke se
Jud jygey ja kr jamin or falak
Masoom si dikhney wali raah..
Le jygy hame kahi door talak.
.
ये जो हो रहा हैं चुपके से
जुड़ जायेगे जा के जमीं और फलक
मासूम सी दिखने वाली राह
ले जायेगी हमे कहीं दूर तलक
copyrights@Babita Yadav
आज़ बारिश मे कुछ पढ़ने का मन है
बाहर न सही कुछ अंदर ही करने का मन है ..
पेड़ पत्ते है गीले ...गीली है पुलिया ..
सड़के भी हुये है सरोबार सी .
गीली सी मन की चौखट
दरवाजे पे आस लगाये बैठी तलब्गार सी ..
मौसम बुला लाया कुछ अनचाहे मेहमान घर पर ..
सूखा कर रखी कोई किताब जैसे
पिछली बारिश से भीगी ..
उकता कर रख दी भूली बिसरा कर
चलो अब खोल ही ले वो पन्ने पुराने
खिड़की पे पड़ती पानी की .बूंदे .
गर्म चाय का प्याला और चंद यादें सिरहाने ..
कहानी बड़ी दिलचस्प है यारो .
कभी हंसाती कभी .रूलाती ..
छिपाये हुए है राज़ हजारो .
इस बार जो पढ़ा आरम्भ से अंत तक
हर पन्ने पर अलग भाव है जागे
हरबाहर न सही कुछ अंदर ही करने का मन है
लफ्ज मे महसूस हो रहा एक नयापन है
आज़ बारिश मे कुछ पढ़ने का मन है ..
All copyrights reserved@Babita Yadav.
Life is a movie where protagonist is dreamer...afterall its an illusion within illusion.
Dont know what is that feeling..
But i like the way you treat me.
Dont know why i dont fall in love
But i like the way you greet me.
Dont know for how long you will bear
But i like the way you care.
Dont know why i resist the love you shower,
But i like the way you still dare.
Dont know how long i will be annoyed,
But i like the way you apologise.
Dont know however bad my whims are,
But i like the way you still eulogise.
Dont know how you handle "spoilt me",
But i likd the way you pamper me,
Dont know how big your heart is,
Because i like the way you dont hamper me.
All copyrights reserved@Babita Yadav.
Nostaligic memories of day i met you in real...
Though i felt you many times inside me.
You...a warm bundle of bewilderment
Kicking n crying , beside me.
A night of agony and half a day of waiting for you..
You came and opened a doorway
of unknown relation which was totally new.
Next few days, went like crazy rollercoaster ride..
Sleepless nights,tiring days..
Changing nappies n entire day you cried.
You were welcomed prince ..
Of our ordinary palace...
From lap to lap of curious siblings..
Earning me a little solace.
Choas ,bliss ,hope, insecurity .. heady mix of emotional high...
One day, you muttered "Maa Maa"...
Cradled n giggling , seeing eye to eye.
The weariness vanished , turned into moment of glee...
Awakening MOTHER within..
Unleashing the whole new 'ME'
All copyrights reserved@Babita Yadav.
तेरे और मेरे बीच
बस इतनी कड़ी है
दिन की शुरुवात मे
रात के अंत मे
और इनके बीच
कुछ और यादें जुड़ी है
लगभग ख़तम सा लगता ये रिश्ता
फ़िर भी कुछ है जो जोड़े है हमको
तेरा पता नही
शायद मेरी आशा अपनी जिद
पे अड़ी है
आ जाती है मेरी साँझ
चौखट पर तेरी
नही तो न जाने कितनी दफा
झटक कर आगे बड़ी है
मालूम है तेरा लौट कर आना है मुश्किल
पर सच तो ये है कि उम्मीद पर
दुनिया खड़ी है .
Copyrights @Babita Yadav.All rights reserved 2017
Ever wondered, what else we do..
besides shedding a tear or two.
Injustice laughing loud on our faces.
Hopelessness,poverty, terror engulfing innocence.
Start our day with murky ruthless NEWS.
We chose to close our eyes to real issues
Does it effect me? Our mean mind questions.
Saving our skins, we drag to humdrum...
Shaming our expressions n emotions.
Losing ourselves daily to a slow demise..
Guts n glory taken a backseat..
For we have enough to our suffice.. we so called educated knowlegeables.
Like, comment and debate on screens..
But when it comes to changing a bit in actual..
Hide beneath, in cowardice under the carpets of ignorance..
Laden with dusts of selfishness
Blaming and shunning our duties..
Have turned into herd of incorrigibles.
Copyrights @Babita Yadav.All rights reserved 2017
कौन उतावला हुया जा रहा तेरी खातिर ..
ओ सोने से मन .
सब देखे चकाचौंध पीतल की ..
कौन धनी है इतना जो तुझको पा ले ..
भाव तेरा है बस सौ ग्राम अपनापन ..
चाहत है सबको चमक दमक की ..
पर नही है जेबों मे प्यार की.कौड़ी ..
देखेंगे सब कुछ दिन का यौवन ..
जिसके पीछे दुनिया है दौड़ी ..
सबको अपना मान तू बैठे ..
हर दिन छला है तूने खुद को ..
तेरा तो भगवान है मालिक ..
मत कहना कुछ भी अब मुझ को ...
आज लगी लाखो की महफिल ..
तेरे इर्द गिर्द
कल फ़िर रह जायगा तू और खालीपन .
That thing was never yours..
That thing never belonged to you..
That thing which came in your hand for a while...
It was just a handful of sand...
You picked up from a dune..
It was once there,then at different place...
The sand which you mistook as gold...
The sand which crinckled in your eyes.
That sand which you tried hard to hold..
Yes..it was just sand in your hand and it slipped through when you tightened your fist more.
Copyrights @Babita Yadav.All rights reserved 2017
How can i forget you even for a while...
We met when we hardly knew, the meaning of being a friend.
I hold your memories in my heart..
Carressing each one, loving and feeling the joy ..
to remain with you till the end.
Innocence at its best,naughtiness at its peak...
Our childhood brimmed with carefree attitude..
A perfect blend of happiness n bliss.. we craziest two were always ready to freak.
Remember the days, we were eager to play..collecting matchboxes and devouring raw gauva for hours..
Frolicking through parks , swinging on bars....
With laughter and fear changing gears in one go.
Tasting candies, and giving away too.
Letting no one touch our heroic friendship..
Protecting our closeness from rest of the crew.
Evenings on staircases, sitting on edges of roof in ease..
Our mundane walks in streets and cherishing the breeze.
Soulful talks or mindless gossips..
Hopping through your house to mine.
Number of times..
Growing up through pangs of adolscence ..
The enjoyment we derived being partner in crimes
Couldnt even think of single day without you my friend..
Think how would i been felt when you had to go..
But your happiness was mine too .
So i never showed my woe.
Years went by..we still feel one..
Sure i am that we will be connected till we are done.
Perhaps, togetherness is shared in next birth too..
Bcz i believe you been sent for me as an angel in this lifetime..
To share and care and to bring love..
That is bestowed on blessed few..
Copyrights @Babita Yadav.All rights reserved 2017
When you came in my life..
Without knocking the door.
Not even a single footstep on my doorway ,i could hear.
But, long back i had known somehow, your coming, as a seer.
Just now,i was beside you under that shade hidden from curious gazes..
Its been only few hours later,i felt you again like that tranquil shade.
As if my soul was awaiting..
If only you too had felt the way i felt.
Love happened in mere one day, beyond belief.
I waited for the feel to ebb down a little so i get some relief.
Your voice echoed inside me all day long n your presence chased me
, when i was alone and moved apart.
The corridors where we had talked for hours seemed deserted, though flocked by people..
Your shadow haunted me years after you had gone ..
Passing time, killed me further
And viel i wore to hide myself..
Days turned into months, and months into years..
But my despondant heart still wretched and moan.
Today at 11.30 pm..anxiety swept over me.no one knows why?
Not even me..i just made myself two toasts on crisp bread pieces.laden with butter n sugar over it..uhmmmn, felt like heaven..true heaven.why on dis earth i m stopping myself from.the simplest form of pleasure.
Why we strave n keep avoiding good food..which gives immense satisfaction..better than anything else.yes i understand its nt healthy.but for how long can we fool ourselves with fruits n veggies if our heart n soul desires butter n sugar.there are n number of advices..books written.blogs n articles on hvng healthy dietry habits.blah blah
..all b..sh..t.how much dese prople knw abt the cravings.wen u r stessed out d entire day.wen u r lonely n no one cares .
Ppl cn pass judgemnts all the time.wether u r fat or slim..does someone actually care..esp about the way u feel? Wats wrong with our lives..yes dey notice ur pics n comment..bt is dat wat u want ?.think..does it give u satisfaction which last? For how long people remember u? Hardly 15 minutes.
Why we seek approval of others..evn from those who really dnt even matter...
Yes..b healthy.eat healthy..but for urself.not for othrs.
Eat n cheat at times..bt atleast b urself.
Ur dreams are not my dreams..mine r diffrent.
I crave for diffrrnt world..n will move on my own path.
Lets not being judged by anyone..n lets not being affected by anyones opinion either.bcz people anyway wont b hppy with u.
Till the time u serve a purpose.u r fruitful to them
So why worry.
Keep faith..love urself d way u r
.improve daily.
Being ur best version.being YOU..is wat u should look for..
Copyrights @Babita Yadav.All rights reserved 2017
I was overwhelmed when my son was born and as he grew into a toddler he was even more cute with his lisping voice and protuding teeth n stole hearts.
He would love to hug me and tell stories and will sleep with me soundly.
But the time didnt last for long when gradually i realised ,he was no longer liked bieng called by his pet name.n ran after boys of his age in neighbour.
So far so good...but the actual pain began when he grew up to the age of 12 or say 13.I dont know whether he always behave like this with everyone or its just me who is victimised.He is constant pain in the neck while i m with him.He is always bored as hell forever and throws his slippers in air as if he is secretly developing skill for some competetion .His sudden liking for "dhinchak pooja" uploads are scary for me and his love for "J
Horrid Henry" as if these are his idols now.
While studying if you can make them sit for a while ...
Will start rocking the table with pens n thumps his feet on ground, not only our house shakes,but people living downstairs have realised that they have rented first floor to wrong people.
Probably, boys at his age howsoever times you feed them are hungry like starved somalian kids
I thought i may make him sober if i could teach him to make sandwich or oreo shake..yes , for a while was happy that finally i will get relief from his constant request to make him "something" to eat.But minutes later and realise it was mistake on my part when i see entire kitchen turned into huge mess, refrigerator opened and stains of ketchup over shelves.I am sure he does all these deliberately to irritate me.He is restless even when he walks around in house, keeps pulling curtains.Don't know if all kids at this age are alike .I just felt like penning it down because i find it very therapeutic for my nerves which remain tensed when he is around.If not playing outside ,he still thumps football on walls and the only peacful time is when he is glued to smartphone or games.I tried to introduce him to wonderful world of books only to be thrown back at my face and if not that he will secure the books in his cupboard saying he will read later or else 'it would be finished' as if it is a pack of his favourite cookies.Hmmmm.'no idea' that how and when this stupid age will be over.Praying for those who have similar type of kid at thier home and jealous of those who have sweet little girls .Anyway, its just a tired parent complaining and whining .I still love my brat a lot..😁😁😁
There is a way admist the deep forest.
That leads to pristine view..
A spring wiith pure water pouring from heaven.
A valley with flowers and lustrous greens..
Clouds floating in air..
Moist misty and enriching whiff
Keep walking,if not running..
Towards that mystic place ..
For its your dream..your destiny
You walk to woods n thorns day n night..
At times even the next step would be out of sight..
But keeping the step of faith you stride
Becuase you destined to find way...
Many would deter you.let them.say whatever they say..
The forest may cut you through your body
Wounded n tired you may feel..
But the land of promises awaits you to heal
Sooner or later ..you reach that place
Quench your thirst n divinity will heal.
Mornings are clearer;bringing some light...
Afternoons shiny and sunny
The problem is evening for it brings
Sounds of fears..
Night will be tiring and dark;
Loneliness gripping tight in its clutches..
And pillow smells tears..
An unending craving unleash with each breath..
Its not about you or me..for sure
For we are pershable beings..
And soon will merge into blind caverns and for forever disappear.
Its something beyond the words and my understanding
Its a feeling we hide inside us
To b one with the ultimate.
Its something for whom the hope languish and for what we wait for years.
Kuch pichey chor dena hi sukh hai
Jab sangemarmar per payo jaley toh
Kaato bhari ghass per chlna hi sukh hai...
Kuch makhmali libas bhi cheelte hai zakhm
Toh khurdara taanabaana bhi od lena hi sukh hai
..
Hum kabhi kabhi soch lete hai bagia ko jahan apna..
Kabhi jungle ka rukh kr jana bhi sukh hai कुछ पीछे छोड़ देना ही सुख हैं
जब सँगेमर्मर पे पैर जले तो ..
कांटों भरी घास पे चलना ही सुख हैं ..
कुछ मखमली लिबास भी देते हैं जख्म
तो खुरदरा तानाबाना भी ओढ़ लेना ही सुख हैं
हम कभी समझ लेते बगिया को जंहा अपना
पर कभी जंगल का रुख कर जाना ही सुख हैं ...
What is life …but a desire unfulfilled…And a hope to dream again.
Shipra had just finished her schooling. She was a loner, unusual for her age. Not that, she didn’t have any friends but only a few, including a red tattered dairy which reserved her deep desires, so called secrets and joys inside its yellow pages. She could have considered as deviant by her peer group, perhaps because she didnt want to interact much with the people around her. Strangely enough, at the same time, liked to discover new places and cultures and wasn’t that uncomfortable with strangers. A person like are either confused about themselves or believe too much on their hunches. In her case too, it was her heart that ruled over her mind.
She had two dreams; perhaps these dreams were every girl’s dreams, at least in India. First, getting the love of her life, and second because of her passionate, mystical nature, was to have a career that gives her freedom. The career that also helps her to express herself and let her travel and explore. She wanted to become an artist. She was born with the talent and people who knew her, had told her that she has knack for drawing and sketching .It was her deep down desire to become a famous artist.
Against her father wishes, she joined BFA course in Delhi College of Arts. Her father wanted her to study life sciences, a career that would have helped her secure a job. Like, most Indian parents they also believed that daughters should be trained to get a secure job get married and this is how they live happy ever after.
Her father had asked, “What are you going to do with this BFA degree, no one is going to give you any job.” He would have never expected when Shipra replied with determination, “Papa, this is what I always wanted to do.”
She joined the course with hope to find same contentment, which she usually derived from spending endless hours, making sketches and painting .During her first year itself, she got a chance to go to Ooty, for excursion where students of different colleges were also there. She was more than excited on her very first venture although no one could ever make out from the expression she had on her serious face. After all, her gypsy mind now ready to explore a new city, other than Delhi, where, her monotonous routine, was stifling her.
She boarded the early morning train from crowded Nizzamuddin station, with her batch mates. Her instinctive mind told her that this journey is going to be an important one in her life. With dreams in her eyes and music in her ears, she sat excitedly on the window seat. The sunlight from morning sun made her face look more beautiful, her cognac colored eyes gleamed. The train was paced fast now and crossed many miles. It was always a pleasure to watch pastures, fields and rivers running along the train. Soon she drifted into a different world altogether. She felt protected and free in her illusionary world where she was free from distractions of outside world. Here too, she was alone except the pair of dark eyes which kept following her, since she boarded the train. She knew that she is pretty and has a certain kind of appeal on her face; her big light colored eyes were rare to find.
The train halted at Gwalior junction. By the time most of the students were being introduced to each other. Her friend Madhu introduced her to Ayaan, a senior post graduate student. She was not a friendly kind though; she could not ignore his dark eyes and charismatic smile. He was mature which made him even more desirable to her. Before she could understand the emotion and excitement she felt for this stranger, Ayaan and she became friends. She was drawn to him like she knew him since time immortal.
The trip became memorable one, in his company. They were together most of the time during the trip. Ayaan’s deep voice, his mannerism, his ambitious talks, and zest for life, all had a sweeping effect on her mind. She was in love with Ayaan.
Ayaan was an orphan boy from a small town of Uttrakhand, who wanted to achieve a lot in his life. He wanted to go abroad for post doctorate and was extremely practical person contrary to what Shipra was ,an extremely emotional person . He was hard working and also a self made man, and Shipra loved this very thing in him.
They used to meet frequently after that. She liked every bit of his company and would wait for hours at place of their rendezvous, the big Peepal tree, outside the Central library. He would take her along to places wherever he had to go for work .She loved the way he held her hand in an auto and endlessly talked about his work and his dreams about future. Time slipped by, days into months and months into years. Ayaan never expressed his love clearly to her, nor did he ever mentioned any plans to marry her, then why did she hear what he never said, how was she sure that he loved her.
They spent evenings, mostly under the tree, near the tea stall inside campus. That day also, she noticed, that he picked her bindi which had fallen on her side and put it in his pocket. She had noticed it before also, so she asked amusingly, “Ayaan, why do you you keep picking up my bindis.” Ayaan smiled, “what else can be so memorable than this visual, these Bindis of yours will remind me of you dear.” Her heart skipped beating for a while and she was sure he loved her. She felt like a little princess in his presence and he was her hero .Little she knew, what future had in store for her.
She tried conveying her feelings to him, but her introvert and shyness never actually allowed speaking her real desire that how badly she wanted him in her life. She assumed that he also feels the same way. Four years of togetherness was about to finish. Shipra gave exams for final year, Ayaan was about to finish his doctorate by then.
It was month of October, and she could feel the breeze on her face, in the evening as she sat beside him sipping tea, from the stall. The sunlight was fading but was enough to see clearly the grim expression his face. She still remembers that day when she couldn’t hold it in her anymore. She cleared her throat before confronting him about how he feels about their future together. It was her fear of being rejected or the way Ayaan had started behaving since last few months, as if she knew the answer. Ayaan, without even facing her, in his cold voice, told her that he has never thought of her as future partner and that he never planned of getting settled down so soon.
She stopped meeting him after that .It was too heavy on her heart to bear this. She cocooned herself in her illusion world again, a safe place where no one can hurt her anymore. Her days were spent indoors, and interaction with people was almost negligible. Most of the times either she was crying or scribbling in her dairy.
Two months later, she was told by her friend that not only Ayaan has left India for post doctorate; he has married his batch mate Ritu, whose father was an influential person .This came as a final blow to her. Rejection was a bit bearable but marrying a batch mate just after their breakup was too much for her. How could he do that to her? Or it was her mere illusion that she spun around to escape reality, after all, he never said he loved her. She couldn’t escape the agony and withdrew herself into her shell. For days she refused to come out from her room and stopped talking to anyone. Her family though knew she going through something but the change was not evident to them, as Shipra knew how to hide her real emotional side.
It was Sunday in November; Shipra was still in the bed, when her parents and sister had to go out. The whirlpool of memories of days spent with Ayaan, played like a movie in her mind. The pain of being shunned by Ayaan overtook her. She caught hold of her father’s Destiny hunter knife, ripped off her veins. Her emotions had ruled over her mind once again.
She is free, drifting in to an unknown world of bright golden light .But, surprisingly, she is feeling at home, safe and secure again. This was the place she always wanted to be, and she is going to take birth again refreshed……..
It was Monday night; she opened her eyes and regained consciousness. Her teary eyed father was standing beside her, in the hospital room. She had never seen him crying before; she felt, she was a fool to commit suicide for a man who probably never loved her.
Her family was relieved that she had revived. Shipra knew that she had to gather courage and start her life afresh. This was the beginning, she could feel the change brought to her after the experience she had during her unconsciousness. She felt closer to the divine as well and realized that life is too precious to end it for something too trivial like an affair. It is much more meaningful.
It took almost a month to recover from the physical and mental bruises; she didn’t care about mental ones anymore. Inquisitive, insensitive neighbors and relatives did pinch her time to time, but she overcame all. She could avert her mind from being distracted and soul from getting hurt.
After this incident she immersed herself into her passion for colors, and her family supported her. She now determined to take charge of her life. She studied and secured admission in Chelsea school of art, for her masters. She was ready to join one of world premier institutes.
Two years later….
She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf. It was a sunny day at 9.00 a.m. Shipra had stopped for a coffee at this cafe in Horniman Circle, Mumbai. She chose a place near window as view on the road was lively to watch. A light filtering through large orange curtains was lightening her face, making her eyes more glitzy. There was still some time for Chemould Prescott Road Gallery to be opened, where her work was to be exhibited along with India’s biggest artists.
She let her imagination let go free again and her consciousness slipped silently into her own world. This time she had something to hook on to. This time her dream was not dependent on anyone else but on herself, her own courage and confidence. This time there was a string and inspiration to pull her back into the real world. This time she won’t get carried away, like she got two years back.
Her dream like state was broken by the door being opened by someone, people have started pouring in the cafe.
She sighed, as if she has lived her entire life, sitting next to window almost marooned café. It’s time to go. She picked her handbag and her red tattered diary, along with, cleanly wrapped in cling film, the blood stained knife. Yes, she preserved the knife which she used for cutting her ties from this world, to escape in to a different one. It’s her way to connect to the real world to get inspired and to get her hooked to the fact that she has accepted herself despite being rejected by someone. What else can be so memorable than this visual, the blood stained knife, that will remind her of him. Shipra elegantly draped her blue silk scarf around her neck and walked out from the café. She plugged into the music and headed towards the gallery.
It was your love that made me soar high…
It was your love that made me cry…
It was my courage that I fought back my tears…
It was the faith that helped conquer my fears.
Copyrights @Babita Yadav.All rights reserved 2017
मन कि मृग तृष्णा ही है
जो भागता फ़िर रहा है इधर उधर
जंगल पहाडी दरिया
दिन रात वो
भोर और दोपहर...
थक हार के भी मन भरl नहीँ
चोट खा कर भी डरा नही.
ना पता क्या ढ़ूंढ़ रहा
किस सच से आँखे मूंद रहा
किसी चाहत से है आहत.
ये चंचल मृग मन है कूद रहा
कभी ना समझ पायेगा ये
जिस गंध की तलाश मे है
वो ना किसी जूही..चम्पा पलाश मे है
शोर इतना है अगल बगल
शांत हो जब किस रोज़ सुन पायेगा
भीतर टटोल देख जरा
उस कस्तूरी से रोम रोम महक जायेगा
Copyrights @Babita Yadav.All rights reserved 2017
How jinxed it is to be human...
Had i been a bird..
Have flown without limits
Without havning second thoughts.
Had i been a butterfly..
Would have been attracted to beauty of flowers
Without any desire.
Had i been a squirell..
Have hopped tree to tree..
Eating a nut without guilt.
Human.with crowded mass in mind
With unfulfilled heap of longings..
Squeezed in loads of daily grind..
And fearimg the loss of my belongings.
Hoping to be relieved in some unknown tommorrow..
Stuffing the uncared soul with unending sorrow..
Copyrights @Babita Yadav.All rights reserved 2017
GIRL WITH A GOLDEN HEART
Once upon in a remote village, in a beautiful valley, there lived a teenage girl named Mishti. She was not only beautiful in her own way but also very sweet and likeable.
As she grew, she became more beautiful with time. Her mesmerising cognac colored eyes were so appealing ,her hair were dark and soft curls played on her cheeks every time she moved her head ,She was fun to be with. As she laughed she made others laugh too. Her presence radiated happiness and joy- d- vivre feel.
She was very lovable; every man who saw her fell instantly in love with her. She soon became the talk of the town as people started calling her as “Girl with the golden heart"because her heart was full of love for everyone. So kindhearted she was she helped all weather kids or grownups.
She developed a magical power too, by grace of local goddess of the valley that wherever she goes and whosoever she loves, that person will become prosperous and rich. But for that she must love that person with her heart and person should love her with good intentions.
Parthriv was a young and charming boy, who resided in the same village. He was son of a poor man who used to deliver plants and seeds to the villagers and now Parthriv used to help his father by delivering these things to the locals of the village. Once he was passing by the street where Mishti lived .She was doing her work in the garden of her house. As Parthriv saw her, he fell in love with her.
On one such occasion Parthriv had to deliver seeds to Mishti's father.Misthi had to attend him in absence of her father .She also liked Parthriv’s innocence and started liking him. Soon their conversation became a routine and they fell in love.
As per the power, Parthriv father business grew and they prospered. Parthriv expanded his business and now started to deliver his goods to city too. As his ventures increased, he gradually forgot the promises he had made to Mishti.With due course of time he started avoiding her and started interacting with other city girls who seemed to be more interesting to him now.
Mishiti was quite hurt by this as she quietly cried alone and felt miserable.Her heart ached with pain and every time she cried local goddess got annoyed by the injustice done to her sweet child.
With all these happenings, Parthriv soon lost interest in business and was indulged in all sort of malpractices like gambling to earn more money.
As destined, he lost all his money in no time. And then a time came when he realized that he has hurt Mishti. He thought of going back to her and apologize. So he went back to meet her.
When he reached his village he heard that Mishti has been ill and had been taken to the doctor in nearby village. Alas, she could not survive the pain of separation from her beloved and died.
Parthriv cried at his loss but it was too late by now. He was devastated by this incident.
In her memory, he made a statue of Mishti with a golden heart studded at her bosom .The statue reminded him and everyone in the village about the love Mishti has for all. The statue was epitome of kindness and true love. Love, that brought happiness, prosperity and abundance. Mishiti’s unconditional love was pure that reminded every man in the village not to hurt his beloved.
पता है,खंडहर क्यूँ लगते है अच्छे ?
क्युंकि कहते है वो दास्तां -ए- महफिल ,
कि कभी बसती थी आबादी
वो शोर कोलाहल
हर दीवार ,हर मीनार, हरएक कोना ,
आवाजों से गूँजता ,
जैसे कह रहा हो अपनी मोहब्बत का रोना...
कभी रंग, रौशनी और जूनून कि बारिशे ,
आज सूखा सा दरिया ,सूना सा आँगन और टूटा हुया जीना
दरारे छुपाये हुये कई किस्से,
दीवारें पे खुर्चे दिलों के है हिस्से,
मुड़ के आते है सब अपनी कहानी दोहराने
क्युँकि वक्त बदल देगा उनकी भी कहानी के माने
पता है ,खंडहर क्यूँ लगते है अच्छे ?
क्युँकि तेरे वादों से है झूठे..
और मेरी हालात से है सच्चे .
ऎ खुदा,तू म॓हरबान रहा मुझ पर..
दिया सब कुछ,कुछ पहल॓.कुछ बाद म॓।
छीन कर,माँग कर,सीँच कर ,रो कर,खीँच कर,
लगभग हर चीज ही पा ली।
कीमत॓ अदा करी,चुका कर अपनी मासूमीयत.
अधूरी सी लगती है जिदगी य॓ फिर भी..
और मन की तिजोरी सदा रहती है खाली...
कौन द॓ सकता है जवाब इन सवालो का,
शाँत कर सकता है कौन इस शोर को,
सब जानता तो है,पर मानता नही है,कि मृगतृषणा है य॓,भागता रह॓गा इघर उघर,पर जागता नही है।
खोज कर सारी दुनिया जब थक जाय॓गा..
तब लौट कर बुदधू घर ही तो आय॓गा।
Copyrights @Babita Yadav 2017
When you cant stop fighting ur tears back
In middle of the night
U make a silent promise to yourself
When life treats you like a step mom
Or besides all good you do
You still face rejection
You mke a promise to yourself.
When someone leaves u..
With Whom you have spun thousands of dreams
Or when your hearts cries out
The pain withers you from inside
You make silent promises to yourself.
Yes ..time is big healer
As they say.
But when you walk a path alone
on ruthless thorns.
Bleeding your soul
And you know nothing n no one will sooth it
You make a silent promise to yourself .
Thats the only promise we better take care of..
Coz time may take time to heal you.
All you need is little prayer n that promise to keep you going.
Copyrights @Babita Yadav.All rights reserved 2017
