Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Suno to jara..

Created by   Devesh Jha

Bahut hua andhere me rona, ab mujhe jeeene ki raat dedo,

Kisi aur shaam apne labon ko chhuna, ab subah ki ek jhuthi mulakat de do.

Yun tum julfon ko pani me bhingne na do, ki sard sa hawa mujhse guzar jati.

Wo halki si kajal ko anchal se milne na do, raat ka atka ansoo abhi bhi nazar aati.

Chhupkar kyun meri tasweer dekhti ho, ki kangan tumhari mere rango pe ragar jati.

Chhill jati bhale tasweer meri, ab har ghari ispe kangan wali hath dedo.

Main na jaunga ghar lautkar shayad, tum apne thikano se nikal sath dedo,

Bahut hua andhere me rona, ab mujhe jeene ki raat dedo.

Har nazm ki kimat mujhe maloom nahi, tum bemol ki baat mat becha karo,

Tere sirhane tale bhi sukoon nahi, mujhe god me litane ka aks na dekha karo.

Iss jale patte par kya likhti ho, nai anguthi sone ki raqib ka dhundhla ho jayega,

Pata hai kanha feki khat tune meri, utha lo barish aa gayi na to geela ho jayega.

Namak ho ghar me to kal lete aana tum jara, zakhm pe dard ka silsila ho jayega.

Mai shahr ke sone se pehle nikal jaun, tum apne harkaton se wo jajbaat dedo,

Baad maut ke meri koi na samsaan tak aane wala, aayi jo ghar tere wo baraat dedo.

Bahut hua andhere me rona, ab mujhe jeene ki raat dedo.

Hansti hui jawani se chhinkar, rote hue bachpan wala saugaat dedo,

Bahut hau andhere me rona, ab mujhe jeene ki raat dedo.

                                     Devesh Jha

Saturday, September 11, 2010

However she loves me.........

Your healing touch,

                    A touch for you…

Was that only you, who kept hiding herself from my dreams, sometimes, used to lighten entire sky as a moon and sometimes would appear as an emerging flower and put me on fire with the firing touch of dew.

Are you the same treasure which has always been healing me in dreams either in my sleeping sense or ever when I am awaken, and with the touch of that I would get unconsciousness in my cosiousness….!

Would always try to find you in sky holding the neck up… eyes stucked in clouds….

Sky used to play the act of a curtain and you would appear to me…. Dancing on the curtain, I wanted to come close but you walk away and disappear at the same time. The distance would rise to a high rate. And I used to start running … following you avoiding the fact that you are only in the imagination and I am at the earth.

But still you would create a stair for me with straight line from the moon. I used to find you in the lands of sugarcanes but you would come just in my dreams and suddenly put you warm palm on my eyes… I would cry… you are really back to me …. Yes indeed you are back…!

But just in a moment you would disappear again, the unclear shadow in the clouds got black cover and it started pouring. Each drop of rain was giving me the feel of your touch and with that I was jus last…. The drop of rain would taste

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Ohhhh! doomsday... today

Afternoon was about to be finished, for inviting to the evening, this were requesting to sun to dim himself and hid in the orange horizon shivering in the west. One typical but small village, Talipur, spreader soil on the boundary type way, looked as host road. Greenery field, blue sky, red temple of God and his unfurl flag tagged on longitudinal and huge bamboos, amazing painting of various God, bride and bridegroom and many animals with dense affection on the wall of straw hut, this is made by lime, dung and another natural colour, this is world famous Madhubani painting people called Kohbar. Twittering sound of bird, ponds for fish specially rohu, makhana, dried seed of water lily, somewhere stage of betel and vegetables, this because whenever you would be listen about Mithila, you have to got know about betel, makhana and fish. Mithila is a part of Bihar, inside of Nepal; this is regarded as home of Goddess Sita, and actually more than half part of Mithila is in the Bihar and remaining part in the Nepal as Janakpur. Now again enter into Talipur, divine creature of nature, as any Bollywood movie Talipur has also a canal and melodious murmuring music from the river Kamla, all of these reveal the artistic skill of universal almighty power.

Whenever presumption jumped over the rule story of each life changed in another way. By the way, there are lots of character exist in tis village for giving of infatuated of their own heroic tale but I chosen only four. Crazy – carefree, innocent – lovely and idle – naughty boys, which all blossoming out by the gust blast of invisible but always moving age. Four of these have a better understanding manner for each other; though they belonged from different caste and class, let’s go to meet them.

Black Night

                                                          Black Nighh

Black night was giving a new birth to the shadow of rays coming from moon, travelling through tired nebula.

As always, I was alone in the midnight. Sitting on my ironic chair, I was searching my mother holding my neck towards sky.

I didn’t want to sleep but eyes would get tired.

Not having someone before you who is very close to you may be fatal. I had chosen this time only for me, because Dad and this world used to be in the deepest form of their sleep, completely cooled silent.

Ssssshhh!!!!!’s something in cool and calm midnight,

Shivering wind….. Falling Dew drops by drop…..

Noise of crickets....Throbbing of bats…..

Fragrance of night flower….Melodious music tone coming from somewhere….Touching clinking of imaginary anklet….

Rhythm of ghunghroo…

Perhaps this all was imaginary, but I was living this moment indeed.

Leaflet of myrobalan falling upon my arm,

Engrossment of white roses into colourless moon,

Growing stalk of bottle-gourd which is laid on platform of dry bamboos, don’t know why these were asking something to lunatic and restless air. I too asked where my mom is.

Quenching holy lamp in temple far away,

Emerging of black cloud which had now fallen at least horizon,

Bricks of debris which had fallen down and mired into soil,


Weeping of pup beside the corpse of bitch who was his mother had got into a road accident; two wheel of a new car had suppressed her, was licking his never returning Mom with muzzle.

The orphan pup was returning in the fear of other animals.

Now, hundred of jackals will gnaw his mother.

In the middle of mine thinking he smelled my foot when he was crossing from me.

This all was answering to me, the thing which has been ended, is not to be given even a sight to it, and if it is given then that is equal to the end of life.

I dazzled and startled following my habit, wept just for 2-3 drops, said bye to Mom pointing in sky. Come to bed and started struggling to sleep. I need the touch of my mother perhaps, I wanted to sleep, but suddenly get up and sit on my study table, took admit card from drawer.

Then started to searching I in that beautiful picture which is stuck by mistake at the Admit card of board exam , got lost into that and don’t know when got dream sequence.

The shimmering picture got pressed of retina of love hunger eye at an instant, when I didn’t know it.

                                              Devesh Jha

Red Shawl

                                  Red Shawl

Can you remind those moments?

When in white covered fog in unclean shadow you come to me,

Completely covered with red shawl..!

Drops of dew were stacked ay the head of grasses...

And you pushed some words into my ear putting your annoyed palm on my lippsss...

I was lost somewhere in the touch of your ringlet,

Just below your nose and slightly about your upper lip, a steam flow was coming out and gut coiled with my hair.

Spark of love was dazzling in our hearts.

You were kept listening the beats and acts of my heart in the mean while sky started putting tears in the form of dew….!

You got shied seemed like all the silky plights will be erased from your eyes but blackish blue colour of your pupil got darker with the restless moment of wind.

You didn’t feel it fair to let the wind pass between is, so, you hold me more tightly and hidden yourself into my chest.

The warmth of your touch changed the damp weather into heating one.

Suddenly you smiled…

Touch Imagination

Touch Imagination

Drop which with rose,

Sound which with mind.

Wind which with nose,

Ray which with shine.

Red of our blood,

Motion of each time.

Disaster of the flood,

Bitter of a salty lime.

Shelter that’s with foetus,

Love that’s with mother.

Tear that’s with eye us,

Believe that’s with another.

Drop sound wind ray,

All are in my far village.

Red motion disaster bitter,

All are in my hearts under.

Shelter love tear believe,

These things give me peace.

But how I could spent those season,

When nothing was any love reason.

I was touching my imagination,

And I whispered verse one by one.   Devesh Jha

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Black Night