Trains and Poetry

Traveling in Train is so much fun. The long journey which winds across several rivers, villages, fields and often mountainous structures is somehow inspiring - especially if you're traveling alone and decide to go and stand on the gate of the train in the night when everyone else has peacefully snuggled into the comfort of their seats and the weather has turned relatively cooler.

The gay winds hits your face, as you cut across the vast emptiness at a breathtaking pace, with Da-Dhinak Na-Dhinak racketing noise screaming at all the passing huts; huts from which only a thin veil of light gleam, as if it is afraid to come out and see the loud monster pass by...shining blindingly bright from its nose, and belching black clouds from the top of its head! 

And then when it starts to drizzle in such condition - you well might very well be damned if you don't try to compose poetry. Howsoever badly words might fail you, even rugged four lines look as if Mirza Galib himself has paid a visit in your head, and when you whisper those lines to yourself - you can't help notice a proud blush pass your face. Here's such a preposterous collection (i.e. you're allowed to laugh at it)

जिंदगी है यह कश्ती कैसी

की मांझी जाने सब

नौका पार लगाए वो

और पूजे ऊपर वाले को सब

चल तो दिया ज़िन्दगी की रह पर

और रोक कर आसुओं को कर रहा हूँ सामना

की पता नहीं बह जाऊंगा उनमें कब

तेरे कडवे शब्द भी रूह को छुह जाते हैं

और सिर्फ प्यार ही प्यार उमड़ता है

डर तो इसलिए लगता है की कहीं तूने कभी प्यार का शब्द कह दिया तो ?

दूर चले भी गए तो क्या हुआ

पास तो तुम वापस आओगे

तकदीर ही ऐसी है हमारी की

चाह के भी बिछड़ नहीं पाओगे

ऐसी कशमकश में जी रहे हैं

किसी तरह तुमसे दूरी के गम को पी रहे हैं

किस्मत किसी दिन हमें मिला भी दे

हमें ख़ुशी का एक सिला भी दे

The moonless cloudless night is black

And yet I can't see the beauty of shimmering stars

Blinded by the white light

that spits on my door ajar

Try as I might

I can't be a poet

For when I try to play with words

I create a riot

Trying to find a rhyme

I twist emotions so much

Splitter, Splutter, Stutter they cry

and then with a weak sigh, die

...There are more - but I'd rather stop here! All of these sound heavy - but try reading them to someone with a straight face, oh you just cannot not laugh...

Happy traveling and poeting!