Path to humanity

Path to humanity
We cannot despair of humanity, since we ourselves are human beings. (Albert Einstein)

Thursday, April 30, 2015

कुछ रंग
Colours

कोशिश की थी मैंने
हाथों में पानी पकड़ने की
निर्जीव हुए जीवन में
कुछ रंग भरने की
मुझको कहा किसी ने
बावरे मन, ना कर ये पागलपन
पानी हाथ से बस छू जायेगा
आँखें होंगी तेरी नम
मेरे उत्तर को सुनकर
वो आवाक् रह गया
सर उस बेचारे का
शरम से था झुक गया
"यदि कोशिशें ना होंगी
तो लक्ष्य कैसे मिलेगा
थक कर बैठने वाले को
ईश्वर भी जाने क्या कहेगा"

-Snehil Srivastava

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(Note- No part of this post may be published, reproduced or stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the author.)
© Snehil Srivastava

काजल
Kaajal

इतना सारा काजल?
पर तुम्हारी आँखें तो
वैसे ही खूबसूरत है
बातें जो कर लेती हैं

बड़ी अदा से
पलकें झपकना
होठों पर मुस्कराहट लाना
मुझसे अनजाना बन जाना

मेरा वास्ता ना भी हो तुमसे
किन्तु मैं क्या करूँ
हंसना तो
मुझे भी अच्छा लगता होगा

मुझे क्या भाया तुममें
पूछो खुद से
जवाब मिले
तो मुझे बताना जरूर

एक बार भी तो
नहीं हुआ ऐसा
कि तुम्हें देखूं
और ईश्वर से मिलन न हो

नहीं मांग रहा मैं
तुमसे कुछ भी
तुम्हें तो, सच जानो
इस बार नहीं

सब कुछ बीतकर
वापस आता ही है
आज कल नहीं
तो फिर कभी

तुम्हारा गहरा काजल
तुम्हारी स्मृति
तुम्हारे पल
याद रहेंगे मुझे।

-Snehil Srivastava

Picture credit: www.thereaderstime.com
(Note- No part of this post may be published, reproduced or stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the author.)
© Snehil Srivastava

पोस्टमैन
Postman

पोस्टमैन कहता था वो खुद को-
चिट्ठियां पहुँचाने वाला
यहां से वहां,
वहां से जाने कहाँ कहाँ
गांव की गोरी की चिठ्ठी
शहर में बाबू को
कि मैं ठीक हूँ, मुन्नी बीमार है
कब आओगे,
मुन्नी के बापू?
दोस्त बने
दो अनजानों की चिठ्ठी
अपने सुख दुःख को बांटते
बीतते दिनों में
पोस्टमैन बाबू की राह ताकते
माँ की चिठ्ठी,
जिसके जवाब के इंतज़ार में
उसकी आँखें पथरा सी गयी हैं
कि आज कुछ खबर लाएंगे
पोस्टमैन बाबू मेरे बेटे की
इन सैकड़ो चिट्ठियों में
कभी किसी का जन्म
कभी किसी की मृत्यु
हुआ करती है
गला भर आता है कई बार
ख़ुशी से छलकते आंसू भी
दिखें हैं कई दफ़ा
ढेरों चिट्ठियां, उनके बीच पोस्टमैन बाबू
कोई नहीं भेजता इन्हें
एक भी चिट्ठी
कोई नहीं लेता खबर
इनके सुखों की, इनके दुखों की
और ये खुद-
अनगिनत लोगों के चेहरों पर
संतुष्टि का भाव देखकर
सहज ही मुस्कुरा पड़ते हैं
पोस्टमैन ना हुए,
कोई और हो गए

                                                 -Snehil Srivastava

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(Note- No part of this post may be published, reproduced or stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the author.)
© Snehil Srivastava

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

हे वीर! आखिर तू है कौन?
O' Braveheart!

फांसी दी जा रही थी उसे
बड़े जोर-शोर, गाजे-बाजे के साथ
माथे पर तिलक
भुजाओं पर चन्दन
मुख ललाट पर कान्ति
और भी ना जाने
कितनी अबूझ भ्रान्ति
पर वो शान्त
एकटक शून्य को निहार रहा था
उसकी अनंत कलाओं में
ये भी एक कला थी
शब्द एक नहीं
बातें गहरी, अनकही
उसका तेज
मृत्यु पटल की कालिमा को
क्षीण कर दे रहा था
बलि-वेदी, यज्ञ-वेदी जान पड़ती थी
और वो मंत्रो के पवित्र उच्चारण में
स्वाहा होने को तत्पर
हर बीतता क्षण
नए जन्म की दिशा में
पुरजोर बढ़ रहा था
ना कोई विस्मय
ना ही कोई ग्लानि
केवल-
विजय और गर्व का सम्मिलन
हे वीर! आखिर तू है कौन?
ओम! शांतिः!

Death is not that beautiful for everyone. But for him death is one divine thing. All for that Almighty, with all love. With all happiness.


(Note- No part of this post may be published, reproduced or stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the author.)
© Snehil Srivastava

जीत और हार- कुछ पहलू
Failure- A Boon

हारना तब आवश्यक हो जाता है जब लङाई
"अपनों से हो" ...और....
जीतना तब आवश्यक हो जाता है जब लङाई "अपने आप से हो"
मंजिल मिले ना मिले ये तो मुकदर की बात है!
हम कोशिश भी ना करे ये तो गलत बात है
-हरिवंशराय बच्चन

इन्हीं शब्दों से विस्मृत कुछ शब्द मेरे-
कोशिश- यही तो अनवरत है यही तो सत्य है हारो जीतो फिर हारो इसी का महत्व है
मुकद्दर- सबका हो जरुरी नहीं अगर हो काफ़ी नहीं मेहनत में कुछ तो बात है जीत ना हो संभव नहीं
अपने- वो हैं जो साथ हंसे वो भी हैं जो साथ रोएं वो नहीं जो साथ छोड़ें हाँ वो हैं जो हिम्मत को जोडें
हार- होने दो कोई बात नहीं दो पल की होगी, मुलाकात सही थकना नहीं बस जरा सी दूरी है हार है कोई मौत नहीं
जीत- खुद से लड़ाई है जिसने भी पायी है ना हो ना सही कौन सी जग हंसाई है

Countesy- Bhupendra Tyagi

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(Note- No part of this post may be published, reproduced or stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the author.)
© Snehil Srivastava

दो अलग
Different Two

किसी मुगालते में मत रहो जश्न मनाना और मातम मनाना दो अलग बातें हो सकती हैं पर दो अलग लोगों के लिए, जरुरी नहीं
किसी की जिंदगी, बनती है किसी का ग़म और बस यूँ ही बीत जाते हैं कई मौसम पत्ता गिरा, गिरा पेड़ भी एक दिन लेने को फिर एक नया जनम
लकड़ी जली दो रोटी बनी भूख से बिलखते चारों ने खायी पानी टपकता रहा टूटी झोपड़ी से सर्द रात की बदरी थी छायी
रात थी लंबी और बहुत गहरी माँ की लोरी कुछ ठहरी ठहरी सब सो गए सुबह होते होते शान्त हवा जैसे अंत को बह रही


Picture credit: www.rosemero.deviantart.com
(Note- No part of this post may be published, reproduced or stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the author.)
© Snehil Srivastava

Sunday, April 26, 2015

एक बार फिर
Dream and You

आज तुम एक बार फिर मेरे ख़्वाब में आयी
अब आ ही गयी हो तो सुनो-
क्यों बैठी हो चुप सी थोड़ा शरमायी शरमायी
अब गुस्सा छोड़ो, मुस्कुरा भी तो दो
ये जो तुम आँखों से मुझसे लड़ती हो
कहाँ से लाती हो इतना प्यारापन
मुझे तुमसे और भी प्यार होने लगता है
अब कह भी दो मुझसे अपना सारा मन
तुमसे मेरा जीवन कोमल फूलों सा महकता है

तुम्हारा वो 'काश' याद है तुम्हें
जो मेघों की भाँति बरस उठता है
तुम्हारा स्पर्श अमृतांत लगता है मुझे
जो तुम्हारी चंचलता में बसा हुआ है
मेरा रिदय तुम्हें पाकर स्पंदित होगा
इसलिए आज तुम यहीं ठहर जाओ
मेरे ख्वाब में, जो बस यूँ ही चलता रहेगा
मेरे और करीब आओ, कहीं मत जाओ
-Snehil Srivastava

Picture credit: www.fineartamerica.com
(Note- No part of this post may be published, reproduced or stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the author.)
© Snehil Srivastava

और फिर
And again...

कुछ पुराना आज याद आ गया
कुछ रीता सा, कुछ बीता सा
ये बस कल ही तो था
जब बिखरे थे कुछ कोरे पन्ने से
जीवन संगीत से विरक्त हुई थी
वो मार्मिकता भरी शाम
और फिर कभी ना लौटी
जैसे लग गया हो पूर्ण विराम
पवित्रता को अपवित्र कर
अट्टहास लगा बैठी थी वो
जिसे कहते थे सब-
सदा खनकती रहो
अंत होना लिख छोड़ा था
उस अतुल शिल्पकार ने
हुआ वही जो होना था
मनुष्य चाहे कितना ही चीखे

-Snehil Srivastava

Picture credit: www.scientificamerican.com
(Note- No part of this post may be published, reproduced or stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the author.)
© Snehil Srivastava

Thursday, April 23, 2015

A short conversation (Part-3)
The hug

Days after knowing her lovely name I had no clue where is she from, her contact number or any such thing. It had been 7 days since I last saw Manu that rainy day.
I was in my thoughts and was smiling imagining her adorable face. I smile every time I see her in closed eyes. My smile was interrupted whence my phone started vibrating. I took it out from my trouser's right side pocket. It was an unknown number. I swiped the green flash on my mobile phone. Before the call could be connected, it was disconnected from the other side. It was 11:45 pm. I was lying on my bed to find sleep. I just ignored the call and closed my eyes to see her again that the vibration of my phone stopped me doing it once again. It was the same number. I took one moment to pick the call this time and received it after few seconds. I could hear someone sobbing so softly, it was a girl. I guessed.
Me- Hello? Who is there?
(No one replied. Sobbing continued.)
Me- Hey, whoever you are, please stop crying and tell me your name or I will hang up.
She (girl on the other side)- Wait! Its me Manasvi. Please don't cut the call. I need to talk to you urgently.
I was surprised not by the call but that Manu had called me, this late.
Me- Oh! Hie Manu. You all right? What happened? Why are you crying? And where did you find my number, I remember we did not share our numbers, did we?
(I shot many a questions in a go.)
She- No, we did not. But that day you got a call from someone and you were telling your number to the other side. I think you might have forgotten. And I don't know how but its in my memory since then.
(I could sense bit tranquility in her voice now. I do not know if she kept my words when I asked her to stop crying or it was something else.)
She continued- Snehil, I am not fine. And I am crying since evening. I don't know what happened to me. I am all alone. And I feel like dying right now.
Me- Calm down dear. No such problem is big enough in this world that we need to end this precious life. So please, take a deep breath and tell me what is it that you are feeling so low?
She- I don't know. I just felt like talking to you so much. I cut the call at first. I thought, what would you think about me that in just two short interactions I am calling you this late when you did not even share your number. I am sorry if I am bothering you.
Me- Hey, its fine. And its really not important what I would think. Right now, what is important, is that you don't cry moreover smile. Could you please do that?
She- I don't know.
(In this serious situation this 'I don't know' sounded quiet irritating. But that's OK. She must be feeling something bad, what else. I thought.)
She continued- Could you please do me a favour?
Me- What? Tell me Manu.
She- Please don't mind but can we meet now?
(It was close to 12:30 am now. I had no issue going out this late but for a girl and in Gurgaon it is really late. I thought.)
Me- See, I totally understand your situation. And trust me I really want to but don't you think its quiet late. We can meet tomorrow morning, anytime you say.
She- OK. No problem Snehil. I know its late and it is more than enough to ask something like this.
(She sounded lost. I could feel the loneliness in her voice.)
Me- Is it safe that you come out of your place right now? If so, tell me your address. I will be there as soon as possible.
She- Yes, I live in a PG. There is no such problem. (She directed me her place.)
In next 20 minutes I was standing in front of that PG. I messaged her to come out. She responded with '2 minutes' message.
A guard in blue dress was looking at me suspiciously. I ignored him as Manu came and told the guard that I am her friend.
She was in yellow t shirt and blue capri. And was looking more adorable in those rough cloths.
Me- Hi. Now tell me what happened.
She- Nothing much. Can you please hug me?
(Before I could say a yes or no, she hugged me.)
She whispered in my ear- Snehil, thanks a lot that you came. It means a lot to me. You may not understand but I have found you. See you.
(I could not utter a word. I could understand nothing. I only could see that rose bud smile on her lips once again.)

-Snehil Srivastava

Picture credit: www.galleryhip.com
(Note- No part of this post may be published, reproduced or stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the author.)
© Snehil Srivastava

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

I'm ready to die

I'm ready to die.

If no girl is raped in our society,
and every man respect these butterflies.
I'm ready to die.

If there is no one who dies of hunger,
and I don't ever see a teary eye.
I'm ready to die.

If no borders are made anywhere in the world,
and people around can easily fly.
I'm ready to die.

If corruption becomes dead from our inner roots,
and we can get that 2 rupees chai.
I'm ready to die.

If love can grow beyond the eternity,
and hatred becomes one forgotten lie.
I'm ready to die.

If parents can live after the sun set,
and we children can love them without a try.
I'm ready to die.

If we all are together to be human,
and say to everyone simple hello-hie.
I'm ready to die.

If I fail but never lose my hope,
and I reach up above the sky.
I'm ready to die.


-Snehil Srivastava

Picture credit: www.mixerist.gq
(Note- No part of this post may be published, reproduced or stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the author.)
© Snehil Srivastava

सिर्फ़ लिखना हो तो
If only, I...

सिर्फ़ लिखना हो तो क्या ना लिख दूँ
पर कहने को तो हिम्मत चाहिए
ज़ेहन है भारी, थोड़ा उदास है दिल
पर जीने को तो मोहब्बत चाहिए
अब हुई शाम है, लफ्ज़ हुए बदनाम हैं
सूरत ना सही थोड़ी सीरत चाहिए
बड़ा गुमां था मुझे अपनी शायरी पर
शेर कहने को, बस जरा सी शख़्सियत चाहिए

मुझे बोला किसी ने मुझमें वो बात नहीं
पूछो उन्हें, उन्हें अब क्या चाहिए
अब क्या चाहिए, पूछो उन्हें
मेरी सांसे चाहिए या मेरी हार चाहिए
चलो फिर उन्हें अपनी जान ही दे दूँ
मुझे तो बस उनकी हंसी चाहिए
सिर्फ़ लिखना हो तो क्या ना लिख दूँ
पर कहने को तो हिम्मत चाहिए

 -Snehil Srivastava

Picture credit: www.wikiart.org
(Note- No part of this post may be published, reproduced or stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the author.)
© Snehil Srivastava

Friday, April 10, 2015

A short conversation (Part-2)

The beautiful rain and more beautiful name

Chance! Everybody needs one. One life you know. But it is only you who can make the most out of it or miss that one chance.
And that day destiny had given me that one chance.
It was raining heavily and I was waiting for an auto, fully drenched. I saw one; before my voice could reach him I heard someone in the softest tone anyone could ever hear. I turned my face towards that resounding voice and it was ‘her’.
I expressed my helplessness towards her and anger towards the autowala that overheard my radio quality voice against her extra buttery voice. I watched her eloping into the auto and it left the place all muddy and of course me drenching like heaven- ohh I mean hell.
From somewhere, after a few seconds I heard that same unforgettable voice once again. I turned my face towards that now-known lovely voice. It was her peeking out of the auto keeping that one strand of her hair back to her ear. The earlobe had pearl earring in it. It was all so adorable about her, the voice, that shiny strand of hair, that pearl earring. I had to come out of my imagination whence I heard her saying-
She- “It’s raining. (as if do not know) You can share the auto if you want. (Yeah, yeah ‘dear chance grabber’. Do I have any other option left with me? I envy her that she got into the same auto that could be mine if she had not appeared from nowhere.)
I nodded my head in assertion. Moved towards the auto and adjusted my sogginess into it.
Few minutes passed. Nobody said a word. Silence was broken by that autowala who, I guess, was in his mid-thirties when he played that song- ‘abki sajan saavan mein…aag lagi hai…’ I am not sure if he was but we both were in a bit awkward situation listening to that sensual song.
(Should I say a hello or introduce myself)- I thought
She- You see this rain, how beautiful and enchanting it is.
(I was like, yeah it is…very. Nodded my head saying a child-like yes.)
She- By the way I am Manasvi, my friends call me.
Me- And parents? (What do they call you dear chance grabber, I call you this.)
She- Manu. And you?
Me- Snehil, everyone call me Snehil only. I don’t have a nick name. You cannot shorten an already short name, you know. (I tried putting a smile on my face after all this rain and rain)
Ignoring my last bad joke-
She- What does it mean?
Me- What?
She- Your name (stupid). What does it mean?
Me- Full of love. (I imagined, what would you call a person fully soaked into water and checked my branded leather shoes which was then looking one brought from some road side shop. I got no clue, left the silly thought in the air.)
She- Really? (She mysteriously looked amazed. Was it the meaning of my name, the situations we were into or me?)
Me- Yes. (I preferred ‘meaning of my name’ was the reason which she might have found interesting while I found hers more fresh and suiting to her persona.)
I might not figure out much about her in those few amazing moments but I can bet she is going to be the best human being I would ever meet in my life.
I glanced at her, she was again looking out to the rainy rain which was not proven to be as gentle as its droplets, to me but to her I wish.
I was shivering; she sensed it and offered me a pink water bottle that she took out from her all pink leather bag. (I wondered this obsession that our dear ladies show towards pink color. Obsession or their love or its loveliness. There might be some resemblance between pink color and ladies, for sure.)
I opened the lid of the bottle and took one gulp of water from it. It was hot water; I had to take a breath for the second gulp. It relaxed me somewhat. (Why you drink hot water, you are so beautiful unlike this rain today and need no extra fat cut; I wanted to ask)
She- What? Did you say something?
Me- Me? No, not at all. (And bit my lips how in the world she got that I wanted to ask her something?)
She- O’, I felt like you asked something. (She smiled, the same rose bud smile covering her lips.)
Me- (Yes, I wanted to see this smile) I asked in my head.
Meantime, auto was close to my place. And I did not want to get down today. But I had to as it reached there in seconds before I could think anything else.
I paid my share to autowala and turned towards my building.
She- Excuse me. (I felt her voice and moved my head towards it. It was her wanted me to excuse her for something.)
Me- Yepp?
She- You can call me Manu. See you.
(And she waived her hand for a goodbye. I did the same. We both smiled.)
One life. One chance.

-Snehil Srivastava

Picture credit: www.edmontonjournal.com
(Note- No part of this post may be published, reproduced or stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the author.)
© Snehil Srivastava

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

A short conversation (Part-1)
The lift


(I was about to leave and was waiting for the lift to come up and take me down, not actually but literally. It came, I entered into it and I had just pressed the early close button that I saw her waving her hand to stop it. I had no choice. It stopped. She entered into it. Somehow she managed to ignore me and started doing something on her extra big phone that reminded me of early Nokia stone-phone age.)
After a few moments,
She- Don't stare at me like this.
Me- OK. (And I started looking at the numbers which were decreasing as we were leaving each floor, although I was not staring at her but...)
Pause.
She- Don't act so smart. You got me?
Me- Now what! (I faked my anger softly and changed my tone.)
Well, am I? (It really felt good with that passive complement.)
(She gave me an angry look.)
All right! All right! (I messed up my hair to look like weirdo)
(She was surprised, smiled a bit. Hesitant in some cute ways.)
Me- OK, tell me what should I do?
She- Nothing. (you moron)
(I acted like I stopped taking my breaths and showed myself numb to the situation.)
I kill you. (This is what she must had said, I thought)
Me- You are beautiful. See you.
(I could imagine her lips curving into a rose bud smile while leaving her behind in the lift to get down onto my floor.)
                                                              -Snehil Srivastava

Picture credit: www.outtacontext.com
(Note- No part of this post may be published, reproduced or stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the author.)
© Snehil Srivastava

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

एक तू और तेरी याद
Beautiful heart

ये गुमसुम सी मुस्कराहट
और कुछ कह देने की कोशिश
मुझे बहुत भाती है
तू मुझे हर पल याद आती है
बिन कहे सब कुछ कहना
बस यूँ ही चुप चुप रहना
तेरी आँखों में ज़िन्दगी दिख जाती है
तू मुझे हर पल याद आती है

तेरी आवाज़ में पायल सी छनक
तेरी हर बात में फूलों की महक
मुझसे तू ना जाने क्यों शरमाती है
तू मुझे हर पल याद आती है
तेरा वास्ता उस खुदा से सच्चा होगा
तेरा-मेरा नाता अभी कुछ कच्चा होगा
पर तुझे देखकर दिल की धड़कन क्यों बढ़ जाती है?
तू मुझे हर पल याद आती है
                                                              -Snehil Srivastava

Picture credit: www.lovethispic.com
(Note- No part of this post may be published, reproduced or stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the author.)
© Snehil Srivastava

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

बेवजह
You are the Reason

मेरे लिखने की वजह
तुम नहीं हो शायद
अगर ये तुम होती
तो मैं तुम्हे कोरे पन्नों पर
उकेर देता
तुम्हारी मुस्कुराहट को
तुम्हारी बदमाशियों को
तुम्हारी आँखों से
कुछ कह देने की अदा
जिसमें बसी है
मेरी लिखने की एक वजह
हंसना भूला था मैं
तुम्हें अठखेलियां करता देख
ना जाने क्यों होंठ खुद-ब-खुद
मुस्कुरा उठते हैं
तुम्हारा यूँ अनजान बनना
जैसे कितना बचपन हो तुममें
तुम्हारी उँगलियों का नृत्य
तुम्हारा सानिध्य
और तुमसे सुन्दर
तुम्हारा व्यक्तित्व
पर मेरे लिखने की वजह
तुम तो नहीं हो शायद

मैंने नहीं था कभी सोचा
कि तुम्हें लिख सकता हूँ मैं
पर तुम्हारे प्रश्न
मुझे शर की भांति चुभ गए
सच ही तो है
तुम्हारे पुष्प केवल तुम्हारे हैं
मुझे कोई अधिकार नहीं
इनकी महक को आत्मसात करने की
पर ये अंत बड़ा अखरता है मुझे
शुरुआत का अंत
जैसे हो सागर का जल
नभ् के तारे
कुछ बिखरे सपने मेरे
कुछ सिमटे सपने तुम्हारे
बंद आँखें और बंद आँखों में तुम
बस जाये कोई ईश्वर
बजे फिर एक मधुर धुन
सब कुछ हो
चाहे हो बेवजह
पर मेरे लिखने की वजह
तुम तो नहीं हो शायद

Picture credit: www.funmag.org
(Note- No part of this post may be published, reproduced or stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the author.)
© Snehil Srivastav