तुम्हारी, कमला.

हर रात तुम आकर मेरे सपनो में बिछे उस पुराने बाक पर बैठ जाते. बीमार बूढा सा लगता वो बाक. साँसे जैसे थमने के लिए ही चल रही हो. तुम आकर उसपर यूँ टेकते जैसे किसी सिंघासन पर बैठे हो. कुछ ख़ास था तुममे. राजा मिडास की तरह “जो छू लो सोना बन जाए” वाली तरकीब तुम्हे पता थी शायद. आँख खुली तो बिस्तर की सिलवटों के अलावा कुछ नहीं दिखा. न तुम, न तुम्हारे होने की कोई निशानी. सूरज की तीरंदाजी का शौक कुछ ज्यादा ही गहरा हो चला है इन दिनों. सुबह हुई नहीं की किरणों के वार शुरू. नींद घबरा कर छिपती फिरती है जम्हाईयों में. उठकर आइना देखा. जब तुम थे तो तुम्हारी आँखों में देख लिया करती थी, अब आईने से ही काम चलाना पड़ता है. बाल सवारे और निकल पड़े दिन बिताने.

तुम दूर शेहेर में मेरे लिए ज़िन्दगी तलाशने गए हो. ये जाने बिना की वो ज़िन्दगी तुम ही हो. कहते हो मकान बनवाओगे मेरे लिए. जबसे गए हो तबसे हर दिन एक ईंट भी पड जाती तो आज तक हमारा एक मेहेल बन चूका होता. कागज़ के कुछ टुकड़े जोड़ने के लिए कितने रिश्ते तोड़ने पड़ते है. अजीब नहीं लगती तुम्हे दुनिया की ये रीत? तुम्हारी अम्मा नींद में तुम्हारा नाम बडबडाती है. वो जितनी बार मूह खोलती है उतनी बार मेरी आँख खुलती है. बताओ किसका प्यार ज्यादा है?

पोस्टमन कल कुछ सेहमा सा लगा. उसने अम्मा से बड़े दिनों बाद सीधे मूह बात की. वरना चिट्ठी फ़ेंक कर जाने की तो उसकी पुरानी आदत है. मुझे पढना लिखना आता है ये जानते हुए कलमूहा अम्मा को पढ़ कर सुना रहा था. “एक रेल दुर्घटना में आपके बेटे जगन्नाथ की मौत हो गयी”. नाम तो तुम्हारा ही था. सठिया गया है ये डाकिया. बकता रहता है. अच्छा वो छोड़ो, पता है तुम्हारा वो नीला कम्बल मैंने अच्छे से धो दिया है. बाज़ार से मेहेंगी टिकिया लायी थी. अब दाग ढूँढ के तो दिखाओ उसपर कोई. घर में काफी लोग आये हुए है आज. मातम का माहोल है कुछ. कोई मारा है शायद गली में. पर समझ नहीं आ रहा ये सब लोग हमारे घर में क्यूँ है. अब चाय नाश्ता सब मेरे ही मथ्थे.

बहुत लिख लिया. अब जाना होगा. अम्मा कल से बहुत रो रही है तुम्हारी. याद करती है तुमको. मैं वैसे ठीक हूँ. आते वक़्त काजल की डिबिया और मेटल की चूड़ियाँ लाना मत भूलना. और हाँ वो जो फिल्मों में लड़कियां पर्स लिए घूमती है, वैसी कोई पर्स मिले तो ले आना. लाल रंग में.

ख़त का जवाब लिखना जरूर. तुम्हारी बहुत याद आती है. हो सके तो कुछ पैसे भिजवा देना. जानते है आना मुश्किल है पर कोशिश जरूर करना. तुमने कहा था हर बार खाने पीने की बातें न करू इसलिए खाने के बारे में कुछ नहीं पूछ रही हूँ. अपना ध्यान रखना. और जल्दी से लौट के आना. मैं राह देखूंगी तुम्हारी. मुझे याद करते रहना.

तुम्हारी,
कमला

When Dreams Come True

She counted butterflies through my eyes

Stood on her toes and; touched the skies
In one long breath, she gulped a cloud
And sang to the birds, clear and loud
She danced in the rain and climbed the trees
She peeped in the nest and hurt her knees
She wept and laughed, she could shout and scream
And cuddled on her bed with a lazy dream
She collected pebbles and milk white stars
Stored them in two transparent jars
Covered her memories in a foggy dawn
And greeted the day with a musical yawn

A weird dream I could never understand
Until they gave my “baby girl” in my hand!

Blue and Black

Battery of my phone was too sleepy to wake me up that morning

The alarm dozed off…

A series of “Getting Late” followed

The mirror frowned at me and I stepped out of that drowsy door…



I sat in the bus that looked like my boss

Always in a hurry, thousand things to worry

A lamppost…A milkman…An idli wallah

Three things my eyes picked up on the way.

And that little brain in there started its day!



A coffee mug, some tapping shoes

I can smell the paper, with news and views

These e-mails I guess were up all night

Spams have their own battle to fight

The cursor moves with a lazy click

Wake up guys “We gotta be quick”



Hustle bustle come and go

Each hour performs a different show

That superfast clock completes one whole round

I see faces disappear, with their annoying sound



I shut that last moron (laptop) and pick up my bag

Jump off the stairs and remove the tag

And that’s when my senses pick up a pace

Those two stuck lips, curve a smile on my face

I breathe, I laugh, I think, I write

And that’s what I call a perfect “Good Night”

Quest

I opened my eyes and saw her first
She was my savior in hunger and thirst
I cling to her till I grew
And then I wanted something new
A passion drove me to taste and smell
The world that they fondly call as Hell
I took my turn and did my best
But then I grew up and needed some rest
She looked at me, a twinkle in her eye
I could feel myself smiling, don’t know why
I held her hand & said “be mine”
And then started looking for another sign
They gave me a job and said you’re good
I could manage the house and the food
But then one day when boredom struck
I went back and asked “Is this my luck?”
She gave me a son to carry my name
And with him came more money and fame
A perfect life, the tag was true
But I grew out of it, for something new
My wrinkled face and graying hair
No other life to live in spare
Then one day I found a pen
And began to write all over again
From letters to words the pages grew
And yet each time the meaning was new
Every word I felt had a life of its own
They often spoke to me in flesh and bone
Never before did I feel this way
My lifelong quest found solace that day
I felt complete with each new word
You must have read or carefully heard
I am leaving my thoughts and words for you
Just in case you’re looking for something new

It’s her…

I can see myself in her eyes and my reflection looks back at me with an expression so real that I sometimes wonder who exists? Is it me in flesh and blood or is it that reflection of mine peeping from her eyes?

She talks softly, pronouncing each word clearly one after the other. She gives me enough time to draw a perfect meaning out of each thought. Nothing confuses me; there are no questions to ask at the end and the best part is that, our conversation is never-ending. She speaks with her eyes!

She held my hand the other day and was counting the lines on my palm. She held her palm close to mine and we could see the lines running from my palm to hers attaching themselves. It didn’t feel miraculous at all. It was meant to be that way.

There is mole on the left side of her neck. I often touch it and play with it when she rests her head on my lap. At times it looks like a heart, then it turns to a black butterfly and when she looks at me, it simply disappears under her neck. I often notice this mole actually breathes with her.

She’s got short hair. She doesn’t comb them and yet they look neat. I have never seen them entangled in each other. Her conditioner adds a nice bounce to them. I’ve seen her hair singing with the wind and dozing with the early morning sun. They try to talk to me but they are so many that the chaos gets difficult to handle. So I don’t listen to them…I just watch them dance on her head.

She has a brown dress that camouflages so well with her body, feels like she’s just pulled over another layer of skin. I see the shades of her skin mixing with the color of her dress. It’s like someone is painting her all over again

Who coined the word LOVE?

It’s such a pale explanation of my feelings for her!

Poem for an unknown mother...

I wanted to be you
For all this while
I longed for your elegance
And that perfect smile
I picked up your style
I did things your way
How would you react?
What would you say?
Your thoughts your dreams
Your hair & your eyes
To an extent that I wanted
The feet of your size
And then one day I saw you cry
A zillion questions, but couldn't ask why
You said you were weak, I could feel the pain
You didn't even want to stand up again
Life is a bitch, I heard you say
And before I knew you were gone away
I still keep wondering, after all these years
How do smiles suddenly, change to tears?

Memories...

I loved the way you kissed me
Remember,
You were awake the whole night just to see me dream.
I can still feel your tear on my lip; the one you wiped

when you thought you would lose me
You made me sip your coffee to make it sweet
and the chocolate that melted in our kiss!
I remember every small thing
every touch, every breath, every word you said
With you I discovered completeness…
Today, without you
I miss a part of me
for that matter…the heart of me
I can hear a knock on my door again…
Please! don’t send any more memories;
just come back and shut the door.