बेबसी

मैंने देखा है, हर खूबसूरत फूल को मुरझाते हुए।

मैंने देखा है, खाली पन्नों को द्वेष की स्याही में नहाते हुए।

मैंने जाना है, उस बेबसी को जो फूल को गलत रिझान से रोक नहीं पायी।

मैंने महसूस किया है उस कलम को जिसने पन्नों की सारी संभावनाएं मिटाई।

काश के वह फूल सही जगह पहुंच पाते।  

काश कि उन पन्नों में प्रेम गीत लिखे जाते।  

उन फूलों के रुझान से ही वो कूचले गए।  

उन पन्नों की उपलब्धता से ही वो भरे गए।

मेरे लाख समझाने पर भी कुछ ना हो सका।

और मैं, बेबस देखता रहा।  

क्योंकि, उनकी गति उनकी इच्छा का ही प्रतिफल थी।

और हजारों फूल, हजारों पन्ने, इन्हीं इच्छाओं की बलि चढ़ते जाते हैं…  चढ़ते जाते हैं!

संविधान की बुहार!

संविधान केह रहा है सिसक सिसक के, "मुझे अपनों ने बेगाना कर दिया!

मेरी आंबेडकर और गांधी बापू से जल्द ही मुलाकात होने वाली है। 

मिलने पर पूछुंगा उनसे, कितने निर्दयी हो तुम? मुझे कैसे जाहिलों के बिच छोड़ आये थे... तुम्हे तनिक भी दया नहीं आयी?"

पागलपन का पिटारा

पागलपन का पिटारा घर का मुखिया बन बैठा है। 

पहले सिर्फ उठने बैठने के तरीके बताता था। 

अब सोचने और सम्ह्जने के भी बतलाता है। 

पेहले एक जगह था, स्थायी।

अब हर जगह जेब में चलता है।

Lessons from Raddiwala

A young boy slept till late in the morning. His father woke-up at dawn everyday and after getting fresh did all the household chores. However, his son woke up at 11 am and shamelessly freshened up till 12 or even 1pm. One day father decided to discuss the matter with him. "Dear son, why waste your morning in sleeping? You can in stead utilise your time in spiritual and material growth," said the worrisome father. The words fell on the deaf ears. He then to set an example said, "Look even the Raddiwala gets up early and starts working. You can listen him cooing in streets at early morning." On this the son replied, "Do you want me to become a raddiwala? is that your idea of spiritual and material growth?"
Moral of the story, "If someone has resorted into laziness, he will never lack excuses or arguments but logic!"

Why war?

War begets war; Hate begets hate; But war is a profitable business hence so many wars in world.

Peace begets peace; Harmony begets harmony; But peace is a path that dissolves ego hence less travelled.

Love begets renunciation; Hence there are no success stories of love. Only misunderstood Buddhas and crucified Christs!

Fans can't be free!

The moment we agree to be a fan/follower of someone we are lost from our own path. It results in agreement to lose our opportunity to be free and enlightened. Fandom/following is an acceptance to the influence of the other. All influences are bad. Influence makes you lose originality. That something which is not you comes to existence, off course not in reality but in illusion. This illusion proves to be barrier(as a confusion to mistake one for the other) to understand your actual self. The enlightenment is byproduct of looking with untainted vision at one's own reality. 

The eyes of a fan are covered with colored glasses. It will never be able to see the reality, without uncovering the eyes. Another great disadvantage for a fan/follower is the attachment to this colored glasses. The influencer, who seeks a following, seeds slowly, gradually and carefully the extreme relations of follower's beliefs and ego with this tinted glass. The followers first step into the system is to believe. Completely and irrationally. By discarding every opportunity of falsification. All beliefs are false by nature. As the fan or follower enters this charismatic influence, his real self get trapped more and more layer by layer. Making introspection extremely difficult.

All influences are bad influences. Hence Siddhartha Gautama, the Buddha, once said, "If you find a buddha in your path then kill him." He meant to avoid all influences and walk your path to enlightenment alone. Refrain from creating layers of fake identities and introspect the physical reality. The permanent can be discovered only through introspection of what is impermanent.

Dieing Archer

Today I met a dieing archer. He was in great pain. His skin had turned blue and eyes were bloodshot.
He thereby laid in corner of fields, breathing heavily and awaited his death with heart full of hatred and mouth full of bitter songs and curses. He sang how the world is selfish and brutal. How there is no loyalty in anyone. I went to him to listen to his sorrow and he told me his tale. 

He said he was a smart archer and very competent in aim. He forged arms with his own hands. He had acquired best skills. His weapons were unmatchable. Their edge had no opponent. He especially cared for his arrows which he crafted with steel and nourished with venom so as no target escapes. The arrows were to him like a child is to mother. But the edge that he forged for his enemies now cut his own body by chance. He now cursed the loyalty of his arrows for he was their creator and they care not to kill him.

I stood there numb. How could I tell him that poison is poison! It won’t care to whom it effect. Its only purpose is destruction and will serve it without fail.