Sep 16, 2010


भौहें तनुं कोप है पर अखियन माँ सोक है
चिंता परचंड है, परतिग्या अखंड है |

यौवन घड़ी लंघ चली, नृप सुधी बड चली
काहें राजकुमारी अब बाबुल दुलारी है |

तज गृह प्रजा राज, त्यागा नृपता का ताज
ठाना घनघोर प्रण, वर पाने पे चखुंगा
अन्न |

सारे काज तज, डर हरी नाम भज
रानी पटरानी सारी द्वार में पधारी
हैं |

गजरों के फूल देखो, सैनिकों का शूल देखो
गहरी अंधियारी हर जगह छविसारी है |

डूम डम डूम डम- राजाजी का है हूकम
वर खोजो एक, नेक धरम
करम |

ज्ञानि हो व दानी हो , न वो अभिमानी हो
कुमारी जी को राजी हो, स्वयं अभिलासी
हो |

युवकों की डेरी होगी, सपनो की फेरी होगी
कलेजे में शीत होगी, राजाजी की जीत
होगी |

डूम डम डूम डम, कुमारी का है ये प्रण
न करूँगी विवाह , नृप ना ही चखेगा अन्न |

नृपता का हो मरण, सेना का हो पतन
ठाना है येही, ये है मेरा वचन ||

अभिषेक मिश्रा

Frog in the well-unwell

The world for a frog is its well. The world for an ant is its hole and the world for a man is just the world. But we have failed the world by understanding it as a 3 year old understands a Rubik’s cube: colourful, full of permutations and conquerable. what remains ununderstood is the logic of springs and pivots that constitute this cube and make it what it is. The logic and functioning of these springs has remained covert, disguised and unnoticeable since eternity. The few who unveiled or tried to comprehend the magic of this cube were too mired, too confused – or rarely – too enlightened to share their revelations.

Sight, sound, smell and skin are the validators of this cosmic illusion. The layers are countless and the architect is unknown, often debatable. The hand of god, nature and science create the most impeccable arm wrestling match going all wrong... it is conceived by validators after all. If Bhagvad Gita, evolution, and Zeitgeist are all contenders, what after all is the real world?

The beauty of this conundrum lies in finding its solution. The reality lies beneath umpteen natural, illusionary and man-made layers of magic realism. The deeper one digs, the farther and stranger seems the reality. Few have the endurance to dig and stand that deeper and remain unscathed by the force and eloquence of these springs—or keep the corrupting well water from entering eyes and ears.

But like the springs of that colourful cube keep reminding the user of their existence through every movement, scaling and in every combination, the world follows a similar protocol—it keeps reminding us of the reality that lies within, spilling some beans from its sacks of creation, maintenance and destruction.

Why do prayers work? How every religion from Egyptians, Mayans, Catholics to Islamic have chronicled similar prophecies? Why Vedas are yet not understood and flawless? Did Roman demigods walk the earth? Are Big Bang and Darwinism a prequel to Mutation & Superhumanity? Is Noetic science another sham from Anitchrists? Are Aliens believable and approachable? In what lies the elixir of immortality: Science or Religion? Are all these questions right? Have they grown naturally or have been seeded consciously? Are they the springs?

The trick lies not in finding the answer but in maintaining the questions for they are metallic cobwebs around the springs, a perfect alibi. The metal is impregnable and human consciousness is currently too fragile to tickle it. Lost in our sensory and carnal delights, our worlds are yet to grow over seals and holes and moles and roles. The architect (often confused rightly? with God) is enjoying the show as its subjects live in imaginary walls while real walls of fortress lies unscathed, unrealised and dry.

So how far can you stick out your tongue and smell beyond the walls you know as world ... frog??


Sep 13, 2010

The Poisoning Potion

This rain brings along a message
But of life & beauty, or carnage
As I feel blissful and elated
My unknown brethren are tormented

Ah that poor weary peasant
A prey of this surreal descent
I saw his home & blood flowing
To his waiting grave, he was rowing

My porch smells of dropping rain
So I can’t hear the ripping pain
Of cold and hunger die homeless
But I’m warm from my blanket’s caress

From windows I see those elated lovers
Euphoria ‘neath and above elixir hovers
But my window does not show me that far
where loved ones are lost in mighty rain power

This rain brings along a message
But of life & beauty... or carnage?